“Your mother flashed our invitations, those precious golden tickets that had been so risky to obtain, though how and where they came from I can’t recall. Times and dates don’t come so easily these days.
“We entered the great hall of the manor, a vast space lit by massive chandeliers. A red-rope barrier blocked off attendees from the grand staircase that stretched upward before us. A wrought-iron balustrade ran the whole length of the upper-level hallway, with a spectacular glass ceiling looming over everything. We joined the flow of guests into the enormous ballroom, where a sumptuous buffet was laid out beneath ornate windows. Everything was exquisite and larger-than-life. A six-piece ensemble was playing on a stage beside a stone fireplace, performing an endless rotation of minuets, rondos, and serenades. It was a spectacle the like of which I had never seen, and I took in every detail with pure wonder. A strapping young man dressed as a jester was kissing a countess’s hand across the room, while a Confederate soldier clinked glasses with a Hindu sorcerer, and an enemy Union soldier mingled with Cleopatra. George Washington was already good and tipsy, with no signs of slowing down anytime soon. A Huguenot poured champagne into a flute until it bubbled over onto the tablecloth. A prince straight out of Arabian Nights fondled Juliet, while her Romeo was nowhere to be found. A fakir stuffed his face with foie gras, while a hook-nosed wizard looked thoroughly ridiculous as he tried to keep his mound of caviar from spilling off his blini. It was endless. A Pinocchio and a Marie Antoinette chatted between clowns, Caesar kept scratching his forehead under an itchy laurel wreath, and Abraham Lincoln was French-kissing an exotic concubine. Anything was possible with those masks, and nothing was forbidden.
“A beautiful young singer joined the ensemble onstage, and her powerful voice left the whole room awestruck. Sally-Anne and I used the diversion to make our way to the study. We went through a secret door and up a small spiral staircase. As she led me down the second-floor hallway, we had to hug the wall to avoid being seen by the horde of guests mingling below. We walked straight by the same office I had waited in one day while pretending to have an appointment with the sex-obsessed secretary, but that’s a whole other story, one I can tell someday if you like. Farther down the hall, we arrived at Robert Stanfield’s study, and I played lookout while Sally-Anne slipped inside. I can still hear her telling me, ‘Stay as far back in the shadows as you can, or the guests will see you. All it takes is one person glancing up to admire the chandelier and we’re toast. You see anyone coming, you hide in the study with me. I’ll take care of everything, darling. I’ll be back in a flash. Don’t worry.’ But I was worried, and I desperately wanted to pull the plug. I begged Sally-Anne not to go in, insisting that it wasn’t too late to back out. We didn’t need that money. We could find another way. But Sally-Anne was ready to see it through to the bitter end, all for that damn newspaper that she loved more than anything—even me. Worse still, your mother was out for revenge. You listen to me, girl: never let yourself act out of rage, or you’ll have to face the consequences sooner or later. But that night, I was determined to be Sally-Anne’s good little soldier.
“I could catch little glimpses of her through the crack in the door as she eased open the minibar, took out her father’s cigar box, and dug through it until she found the key to the safe. What happened next changed everything and altered the course of our lives. I’ve never stopped thinking about it; a few minutes earlier or later, and everything would have turned out differently. You wouldn’t even be here today, that much I can tell you.
“My memory may not be so sharp nowadays, but I can still picture every last detail of that masquerade ball. Some things you just don’t forget . . .