“As you like. We cannot answer your question unless you tell us what it is. I handle all of Mr. Bézy’s sensitive matters. If you would like, we can use the procedure Mr. Bézy follows on important international calls. I will call you back on another phone. You will give me another number in your office—not your usual extension—where you will receive this call.”

I gave him Dirk’s old number. The desk was still empty, and the phone hadn’t been removed. Alessi called back five minutes later.

“This is Mr. A, from Mr. B’s office,” he said. I assumed that Mr. B himself must be listening on an extension. “If you’re ready, please go ahead with your question.”

“Fine. As you know, I have been reporting on the business activities surrounding the China communications deal. Now I have another story. Are you listening?”

“Yes, yes, we are aware of your stories, Mr. Truell. Go ahead.”

“I have documentary evidence that on May 16, the day after the China contract was announced, a hundred-and-twenty-million-dollar payment was sent to an account at PanAsia Credit in Vanuatu controlled by Mr. Bézy. The next day forty million dollars was transferred from there to Mr. Bézy’s numbered account at Organisation des Banques Suisses in Geneva. I have the account numbers, but I don’t think you’d want me to mention them over the phone.”

“No, that is not necessary.” There was a long pause—long enough to allow a hasty consultation in Paris. “And what are you going to do with this information, Mr. Truell?”

“I’m going to publish it in the Mirror, unless Mr. Bézy can tell me why I shouldn’t. I’d like to interview him, as soon as possible, in the United States. Unless he agrees to meet with me in one week’s time, I will assume he has no comment and we will go ahead with the story.”

There was another long pause. “You said you are prepared to discuss this with Mr. Bézy. Does that mean you might not publish the information?”

What was he asking? Did he think I could make the problem go away? It didn’t matter to me. He could think whatever he liked. “That’s right,” I said. “We might end up publishing nothing. My information could be wrong. I could be misinterpreting it. That’s why I need to interview Mr. Bézy.”

Again, there was a pause. It was like talking on a ship-to-shore radio, waiting for the response to be formulated and sent. “Could you meet Mr. Bézy in France, Mr. Truell?”

“No. It has to be in the United States. After what happened in China, I think that’s a reasonable request.”

“Where in the United States?”

“That doesn’t matter to me. You choose anywhere you like.”