Stoner nodded. “So…young…virile. Told me he’d…he’d lost his ID card. He…was furious because…not letting him in. I believed…Looked the part. Spoke in a foreign accent…the right manners. I invited him…as my guest. I was…a fool. Should…know better. A weird smile.”

“Weird smile?” Decker said. “How?”

“Off-kilter.” Stoner turned to Benderhoff. “If my wife…she finds out…” He started to cough—pitiful, hacking sounds that caused him a lot of pain.

Decker waited until he quieted, then said, “So you invited him into the club. Had a couple of drinks.”

Stoner nodded. “Afterward, he suggested…we go…to his suite…at the Belle Maison.”

“His suite?” Decker said.

“Told me he was a German count. Heinrich Stremmer.” Stoner looked up. “I thought it was…bullshit. A hustler…lots of them…at the club. But he spoke…fluent German.”

Decker’s first thought was it might have been Yiddish. To the untrained ear, the languages sounded identical. Then again, Hersh could have known German, too.

Stoner said, “His suite…too public. Then he suggested my office. I had told him…worked around here. He said…if someone saw us, I…could say he was…a client.”

Decker said, “You were attacked along the way.”

Stoner nodded.

“He set you up,” Decker said.

Stoner said, “I…a fool. Drunk…”

“He knew where you worked,” Benderhoff said.

“Yes,” Stoner whispered. “He must have.”

“Which one stabbed you?” Benderhoff said. “Or did both of them do it?”

“Heinrich,” Stoner whispered. “He stabbed…me. I was…” Tears rolled down his face. “So betrayed.”

“What about the other one?” Benderhoff said.

“The other?” Stoner shook his head. “Didn’t stab me. He tried to shoot me…but there were…no bullets.”

Decker thought: Everything Miriam had said was making sense. “So you never saw the one that tried to shoot you.”

Stoner shook his head.

“Only this one,” Decker said, pointing to Hersh again. “This is Heinrich. The one who stabbed you.”

“Yes,” Stoner whispered.

Benderhoff said, “Did Heinrich say anything about himself? Where he lived?”

“He said,” Stoner whispered, “he said…he lived in Germany. He spoke German.”

“And he was staying at the Belle Maison?” Benderhoff asked.

Stoner nodded.

“We’ll check it out,” Benderhoff said.

“They took your wallet,” Decker said.

“Yes,” Stoner said.

“Your wife can provide us with all your credit-card numbers?” Benderhoff said.

“Yes.”

“Your attackers may try to use them,” Decker said. He stood. “They could be a valuable lead as to where they are.”

Stoner nodded and closed his eyes again. Benderhoff knew he’d had enough. He stood and said, “Thank you for your time, Mr. Stoner.”

Stoner said, “My secret…I have a wife…who I wouldn’t hurt…my children as well.”

Benderhoff told him they’d be discreet.