“I’m not so sure about that.”

“Please give it a little more time, Nadia—at least until tonight, I beg you. Milos Dragovic is a vile, vile man, but I swear to you by all I hold holy he has no connection to Douglas. And if you’ve been watching the television at all, you must know he’s had other matters on his mind.”

Another pause, longer this time, then Nadia closed her eyes and breathed a deep, tremulous sigh. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know. I’m so worried, so frustrated, I feel I’ve got to do something!”

“Wait. Just give it until tonight. I’m sure you’ll hear something by tonight. If not, then do what you must. But give the police just a little more time.”

“All right,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Till tonight.”

She turned and, without another word, continued walking downtown on Lexington.

Luc stepped to the side and leaned against the front of an appliance store. Somehow Nadia hadn’t been dosed with the Loki. Or if she had she was resistant to its effects. Whatever, she was out and about and more dangerous than ever.

His eyes drifted to the TVs in the front window of the store where the Dragovic footage was playing again. A moment ago he’d tried to imagine how small and utterly humiliated Dragovic must feel. If Nadia went to the police… he had visions of stepping off the plane and finding officers of the Surete waiting for him, of returning to New York in manacles, walking a gauntlet of photographers… He would no longer need to imagine how Dragovic felt… He would know firsthand.

He turned, found a public phone, and called a number he knew by heart. After three rings, Ozymandias Prather’s deep voice echoed through the receiver.

“Prather, it’s me.” He needed to be discreet here. “I need your services again.”

“Who is it this time?”

“A researcher. The fiancée of the last one. She suspects.”

An odd laugh. “Do you warn people when you hire them that they might not have a future with your firm—or any future at all?”

“Please. This is an emergency. She could ruin everything.”

“Really. That’s a shame.”

“Can you do it? Now?”

“In daylight? Out of the question. Too risky.”

“Please!” He loathed begging this man but had nowhere else to turn. “I’ll double the usual fee.”

“Double, ay? And you say it’s the fiancée of the last one. That presents possibilities. I’ll need some information…”

Flooded with relief, Luc gave Prather what he wanted: name, address, phone numbers, whether or not she lived alone. When he was finished…

“I will send someone by within the hour to pick up the payment.”

“I’ll have it ready.” He’d pay for this himself, draw out the money immediately.

“Excellent. And since you’re such a good customer, I believe I can work this one to cover for the last as well.”

“Really? How?”

“You will see. Remember: money in an hour.”

Luc hung up and headed for the nearby Citibank. Most of his money had been transferred to his Swiss account, but he still had more than enough left to pay Prather.