Back Dirty Work
Chapters (62)
  1. 1
  2. 2
  3. 3
  4. 4
  5. 5
  6. 6
  7. 7
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. 12
  13. 13
  14. 14
  15. 15
  16. 16
  17. 17
  18. 18
  19. 19
  20. 20
  21. 21
  22. 22
  23. 23
  24. 24
  25. 25
  26. 26
  27. 27
  28. 28
  29. 29
  30. 30
  31. 31
  32. 32
  33. 33
  34. 34
  35. 35
  36. 36
  37. 37
  38. 38
  39. 39
  40. 40
  41. 41
  42. 42
  43. 43
  44. 44
  45. 45
  46. 46
  47. 47
  48. 48
  49. 49
  50. 50
  51. 51
  52. 52
  53. 53
  54. 54
  55. 55
  56. 56
  57. 57
  58. 58
  59. 59
  60. 60
  61. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  62. AUTHOR’S NOTE

“Is it? Think about this for a moment, Sir Edward. On your instructions, members of your service lay in wait for her parents, deliberately destroyed their vehicle on a public street, killing her mother and father. That is, of course, a criminal act worthy of life in prison anyplace in the civilized world, but we’ll overlook that and keep this a civil matter.”

“It doesn’t sound very civil to me,” Sir Edward said.

“Civil as opposed to criminal. Marie-Thérèse, in return for your written acceptance of responsibility and apology, plus monetary damages, will forgo, in writing, her right to press criminal charges, and she will waive any further civil action.”

“Her parents were killed in a war,” Sir Edward said.

“Oh? Was there a declaration of war by Britain on Switzerland and its citizens?”

“Of course not.”

“Then, under international law, there was no war.”

Carpenter spoke up. “Stone, surely you can see that we cannot give her anything in writing. An apology, maybe, but not in writing. She might publish it.”

“That’s exactly what she intends to do, should you renege on the agreement.”

“Ridiculous,” Sir Edward said.

“Is it? You have recourse if she breaks the agreement: You can reinstate the computer record of her activities with international law enforcement and intelligence services, and she becomes a fugitive again. She is entitled to recourse, as well, and the ability to publish your letter would be a motive for you to keep the agreement.”

“What else does she want?” Sir Edward asked.

“Just those two things.”

“How much does she want?”

“Two million dollars; a million for each parent.”

“Out of the question.”

“Make me an offer.”

Sir Edward did some whispering with Carpenter.

“One hundred thousand dollars,” Carpenter said.

“If you’re going to make jokes, then we don’t have anything left to talk about,” Stone said, gathering his notes.

More whispering. “All right, half a million,” Carpenter said.

“A million,” Stone replied.

“Three quarters of a million . . . euros,” Sir Edward said, “and that’s my final offer.”

“I believe I can recommend that to my client,” Stone said, “though she reserves the right to reject the offer at her meeting with you.”

Sir Edward nodded.

“I’ve drafted some language for your letter,” Stone said, sliding a sheet of paper across the table.

Sir Edward shoved it at Carpenter. “Read it to me.”

Carpenter picked up the letter. “ ‘To whom it may concern: On (fill in date) in the city of Cairo, Egypt, agents of this service, at my personal direction, assassinated two Swiss citizens, René and Fatima du Bois, who were innocent of any crime. I wish to apologize personally, and on behalf of this service, to their daughter, Marie-Thérèse du Bois, for this unconscionable act. As a consequence of my actions, this service is paying the sum of (fill in amount) to Mademoiselle du Bois as reparations for the deaths of her parents. Signed.” ’