“I believe he’s in his study,” the man replied. “He just woke up from a nap. He’s been down all afternoon.”

“Thank you,” Macher replied, and walked up the curving staircase from the marble hall to the second floor, to the double doors of St. Clair’s study, which was where he worked when he was in New York. He rapped on the door.

“Who is it?” St. Clair called from inside.

“It’s Erik, sir.”

“Do you have the strong case?”

“I do, sir.”

“Then come in!” His voice sounded excited.

Macher let himself into the two-story room, which was filled with pictures and books. St. Clair sat at his desk. The only light on in the room was the lamp that illuminated its surface.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Macher said. “There were accidents on the interstate. I did the best I could, and I did call you.” He walked toward the desk.

St. Clair beckoned him. “I had a migraine and was down for a while. What do you hear from England?”

Macher stopped and set down the heavy case. “The family are surrounded by armed men, and have been since this morning. There was no opportunity to stage an accident, and even an all-out assault would not have worked, so I sent our people home, until circumstances have changed.”

“Damn it!” St. Clair said. “Set the case up here.” He cleared the desk of papers and patted the desktop.

Macher placed the case on the desk and turned the opening side toward St. Clair. “Here you are, sir.”

St. Clair examined the case. “Jesus, it’s pretty substantial, isn’t it? How does it open?”

“I’m sorry, sir, here’s the key.” He dug it out of his pocket and handed it to St. Clair.

“How does it work?” he asked.

“I don’t know, sir, I haven’t opened it.”

“Obviously your curiosity isn’t as strong as mine.” He waved Macher to a chair across the desk from him and inspected the locks. “This brings an end to our problems,” St. Clair said, inserting the key into a lock and turning it.

“I’m delighted to hear it,” Macher said.

St. Clair inserted the key into the other lock and turned it. “Come November, I’ll have my man in the White House.” He set down the key and reached forward with both hands to open the case.

Macher was looking directly at St. Clair’s face when the strong case exploded. His chair and he in it were knocked backward several feet, and he was stunned by the force. St. Clair was screaming. Macher got up on one elbow and looked at the man: he was flat against the bookcase behind him and on fire from the shoulders up. So was the bookcase.