“Plausible. How about your file? Did you learn anything?”

“Yeah, that he's one nasty SOB. We still have to talk to him.”

“Gomez says it's impossible. Got any ideas?”

“I might have.” He handed Zavala a piece of paper from his file. “This is a list of his hobbies. Wine, women, racehorses, gambling, the usual things. Something caught my eye.”

Zavala saw it right away. “He collects antique firearms. Sounds like someone else I know.”

Austin smiled. He was a serious collector of dueling pistols. The walls of the old Potomac boathouse where he made his home were covered with the exquisitely fashioned instruments of death. He kept the most valuable pieces in a vault and had one of the finest collections in the country.

“You remember the new pieces I bought for my collection the day before our race? They're a fine pair, but they duplicate a brace I have. I was planning to use them in trade with another collector.”

“I think I see where you're going with this. How do you let Enrico know they're available?”

“Every dealer has a client list so buyers can be quickly matched up to acquisitions. You never know when an unusual collectible will come up, or how long a dealer may be able to keep the transaction exclusive. I'll call a couple of dealers and tell them I have to unload the pistols in a hurry. I'll make it sound as if I'm in desperate straits. A crook can never resist the chance to cheat someone.”

“What if Enrico has pistols like these?”

“They're relatively rare. But if he does have copies, he might want them for the same reason I did, for future trades. The main thing is having the opportunity to talk to him. He'd still want to see them, hold them in his hands. It's a collector thing.”

“Say a dealer gets several anonymous queries. How do we know which is Enrico?”

“We know he doesn't come north of the border. If I am asked to go to Mexico to make the deal, we'll know he's it.”

They returned the files to Gomez and told him of their plan.

“Might work. Might not. It's dangerous as hell. No guarantee he's going to talk, even if you do get to meet him.”

“We've considered that possibility.”

Gomez nodded. “Look, I hate to have something happen to a nice fellow like you. I can't protect you outright because the Mexicans are a little sensitive about gringo cops treading on their territory. I can make certain that if he does kill you his life won't be worth a plugged peso.”

“Thanks, Agent Gomez. My survivors will be reassured.”

“Best I can do. I'll line up a few assets. Let me know when this thing is happening.”

They shook hands, and the NUMA men headed back to the hotel. Austin brought out the dark brown wood case from his duffel bag, opened the lid, and removed one of the pistols.

“These are almost identical to a pair I have in my collection. They were made by a gunsmith named Boutet about the time of Napoleon's Egyptian campaign. He incorporated the Sphinx and the Pyramids into the barrel. These were probably made for an Englishman.” He sighted at a floor lamp. “The butt is cut round instead of square like the continental type. But the rifling is multigrooved in the French style.” He replaced the pistol in its green baize. “I'd say this is irresistible bait for any collector.”