“Then let’s go find places where you can defeat surveillance. I wouldn’t use this office,” he said, pointing at the view of the gardens. “Too easy for them. Let’s go upstairs.”

They walked around the house, looking at rooms. “The dining room’s your best spot; no windows at all. The study is good, too, if you draw those velvet curtains. Your bedroom and the kitchen are not good.”

“Okay, Bob, I get the picture. I need some more help.”

“What kind?”

“I want you to round up three or four ex-cops and have them tail me.”

“You afraid of some sort of personal attack?”

“No, I’m afraid of being tailed. I want your people to look out for other people following me.”

“Gotcha,” Cantor said, leafing through his address book. “You want to be wired to my watchers?”

“That would be good.”

“When do you want to start?”

“I’m going to have a meeting here later. Right after that.”

“What time is the meeting?”

“I have to arrange it, then I’ll let you know. You start rounding up your guys.”

“You’ve got my cell phone number. Call me.”

“Will do.” Cantor let himself out of the house.

Stone called Carpenter. “I want another meeting with Sir Edward.”

“I’m not sure he has the time.”

“What? Is he jerking me around?”

“Can you arrange the meeting with La Biche?”

“We can talk about that at the meeting.”

“I’ll see if he has the time.”

“If he wants to get this done, tell him to find the time. We’re meeting at my house, as soon as possible.”

“He’ll want to choose the spot.”

“Then tell him to go fuck himself.” Stone hung up.

The phone rang ten minutes later.

“Yes?”

“Five o’clock, at your house,” she said.

“Just him,” Stone replied.

“He wants me.”

“I want you, too, when you’re not killing people. Tell him I’ll frisk him for a wire—you, too.”

“He won’t sit still for that.”

“We’re going to do this my way, or not at all,” Stone said. “What’s it going to be?”

She covered the phone and spoke to someone else, then came back. “See you at five,” she said.

Stone hung up and called Bob Cantor. “The meeting’s at five.”

“That’s going to be tough. How long will it last?”

“Half an hour to an hour is my best guess.”

“I’ll do the best I can.”

Stone went to the dining room. He moved all the chairs back to the wall, except three, then he went to his desk, rummaged through a drawer, and came up with a small scanner. He replaced the batteries and put it into his pocket, then he sat down and called Marie-Thérèse’s cell phone.

“Yes?”

“Call me from a pay phone,” he said. “I’ve had my phones checked. They were bugged, but they’re clean now.”