She smiled without humor. "In that case, I'll have a dreary day of chores dismembering the body and cleaning up the blood. I'll leave it up to you."

I put the package on the counter. "Far be it from me to inconvenience a lady."

"What a dear boy you are," she said. "That's a very nice coat. Take it off. Slowly, if you please."

I slipped out of the coat and let it fall to the floor. "You tricked me onto the boat," I said. "That second phone call was you, telling your partner to draw me in."

"The shocking thing is that you fell for it," the woman said. She kept giving directions and she knew what she was doing. I leaned forward and put my hands against the wall while she patted me down. She found the pepper spray and took it, along with my wallet. She made me sit down on the floor on my hands while she took my coat and stepped back.

"A stick," she said, looking at my blasting rod. "How very preneolithic of you."

Aha. A professional she might be, but she was a straight. She didn't believe in the supernatural. I wasn't sure if that was going to help or hurt. It might mean that she would be a little less eager to shoot me. People who know what a wizard can do get really nervous if they think the wizard is about to try a spell. On the other hand, it meant that I didn't have either the support of the rest of the Council or the threat of my own retribution to use as leverage. I decided it was best to act like a normal for the time being.

The blonde laid my coat on the counter and said, "Clear."

The door to the bathroom opened, and the woman I'd heard before came out. She now wore a knit fabric dress the color of dark wine, and a couple of combs held her hair back from her face. She wouldn't stand out in a crowd but she wasn't unattractive. "He's not Gaston," she said, frowning at me.

"No," said the blonde. "He was here for the merchandise. He was just about to leave with it."

The dark-haired woman nodded and asked me, "Who are you?"

" Dresden ," I said. "I'm a private investigator, Ms. Garcia."

Francisca Garcia's features froze, and she traded a look with the gun-wielding blond. "How did you know my name?"

"My client told me. You and Ms. Valmont could be in a lot of trouble."

Anna Valmont kicked the wall and spat, "Bollocks." She glared at me, gun steady on me despite her outburst. "Are you working with Interpol?"

" Rome ."

Anna looked at Francisca and said, "We should scrub this sale. It's falling apart."

"Not yet," Francisca said.

"There's no point in waiting."

"I'm not leaving yet," the dark-haired woman said, her eyes hard. "Not until he gets here."