“She will arrive in due course,” Stone replied.

Sir Edward looked around him. The park was fairly crowded with all sorts of people. Which one could be the woman? The bag lady pushing a shopping cart? The woman in a business suit with a briefcase? The girl on Rollerblades?

“Where is she?”

“Relax, Sir Edward,” Stone replied.

On the sidewalk behind the benches, a man in a suit and hat pushed a wheelchair bearing an old woman, who was hunched over, a large handbag in her lap. Sir Edward kept looking, trying to identify La Biche.

The wheelchair came to a halt between Sir Edward’s bench and the next. The man bent over the woman, apparently his mother. “There, dear, is that comfortable for you?” he asked her.

“Very comfortable,” she replied in an old lady’s voice. She reached over and plucked the tiny receiver from Sir Edward’s ear. “Good afternoon, Sir Edward,” she said. Her voice was no longer old, and her accent was as British as Sir Edward’s. “I am Marie-Thérèse du Bois. May I introduce Lieutenant Dino Bacchetti of the New York Police Department.”

“How do you do, Sir Edward?” Dino said. He was still bending over the wheelchair. His head close to that of Marie-Thérèse.

45

Sir Edward looked around himself. “I’m surrounded,” he said, lowering his head to be closer to the microphone behind his lapel.

It took Marie-Thérèse only a moment to locate it and pull it free. “Sir Edward is quite safe,” she said into the microphone. “And I wish to point out that an attempt on me is very likely to hit either Lieutenant Bacchetti or Mr. Barrington. If that should happen, The New York Times will have the story before the ambulances arrive.” She picked up Sir Edward’s earpiece, which was resting on his shoulder, and put it into her own ear. “Did you read that loud and clear?” she asked.

Sir Edward removed his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and put the hat back on.

Carpenter, in the helicopter, looked at Mason, who shook his head. “No shot,” he said. “And we don’t want to knock off one of the local constabulary, do we? Never mind your mate.”

“I read you loud and clear,” Carpenter said into her own microphone.

“Then kindly go and park that chopper over the East River,” Marie-Thérèse responded. “You’ll still be able to read our transmissions, but you don’t want to make me nervous by hovering, do you?”

Mason switched off his headset. “How soon can we have men in the park?”

“I estimate four minutes, if they run,” Carpenter replied.

“Looks like we’re stuck with the situation, doesn’t it?”