On the second try, she answered. “Yes?”

“Hello, Miss Ferrari.”

“Mr. Clifford?”

“Buzz me in,” I ordered.

I thought she might hesitate, but she didn’t. The main door clicked open instantly.

She lived on the fifth floor. The elevator was a claustrophobic box, and I rode up with an old lady and her dog. When the doors opened, there was my former secretary, waiting in the hallway.

My eyes went straight to her belly, noticeably swollen.

“Why’d you think I’d claim your ...