Monnet held his gaze. “Quite the contrary. I think you are far more intelligent than you would like us to think. Which makes these transparent displays of ferocity fruitless and redundant.”

Monnet’s blasé tone made Milos want to rip his head off. But he calmed himself and decided it was time for an about-face. Time to reconfirm their suspicions that he was utterly psycho.

He straightened and flashed them his best smile. “You are right, of course,” he said softly, genially. “We should not fight. We are brothers, yes? In my heart I trust you as no others.” He clapped his hands once. “So. When should your brother expect his next shipment?”

Garrison and Edwards turned nervously toward Monnet.

“We’ll do a trial run of the new template tomorrow, test it late Friday or early Saturday morning. If all goes well, we’ll start production immediately. Because of Memorial Day, the first shipment won’t go out till Tuesday morning. But it will be a big one.”

“Excellent! I will be out of town for the weekend”—he caught the looks of relief on Garrison’s and Edwards’s faces—”but I will stay in touch.”

“Going to Europe?” Edwards said, a hopeful gleam in his eye.

“No,” Milos said. “The Hamptons. East Hampton. I am having housewarming parties for my new home on the ocean. I would invite all of you, but I know that you will be too busy making my Loki, yes?”

“Absolutely,” Garrison said, with Edwards vigorously nodding in agreement.

Milos fixed his gaze on Monnet. As usual, he hadn’t been able to rattle him with threats and noise. But he had something special for Dr. Monnet, something he’d saved till now.

“I especially wish the good doctor could join the parties. I will be serving a nice little wine I picked up recently. A Bordeaux. You have heard of Château Petrus, yes?”

He saw Monnet stiffen. His tone was guarded. “Yes.”

“But of course you have. It is from your homeland. I am silly. Yes, I bought six bottles of Château Petrus 1947 Cru Exceptionnel last night, and I will be drinking them all this weekend. It is such a shame you cannot be there to have some. I understand it is quite good.”

Milos watched with glee as the color faded from Monnet’s cheeks, leaving him wide-eyed, livid, and—for once—speechless.

“Have a nice day,” Milos said, then turned, unlocked the door, and pushed out into the hall.

6

Luc fought to regain his composure as the door shut behind Dragovic. If he had a gun right now, he would walk out into the hall and shoot the man. He’d never fired a gun before but somehow, with Dragovic as the target, he was sure he could manage it.

At least he would if he could make his legs work. Dragovic’s words had left him weak in the knees. Had that… that ape been tailing him? That could be the only explanation. One of Dragovic’s men must have followed him to Sotheby’s and called his boss when Luc started bidding. Dragovic had sat home and outbid him.