Stone and Dino sat in Dino’s car outside the Carlyle, while Dino made a phone call. “Sir, it’s Bacchetti. We’ve found out where the woman is staying. She’s in a suite at the Carlyle. . . . Yes, sir, she certainly has good taste. I’ve ordered in a surveillance team. In very short order I’ll have the place covered and a couple of men in the suite next door with a listening device. . . . No, sir, I don’t want to take her in the street or in the lobby. There’s sure to be weapons fired, and we don’t want a mess. I want to let her come home and go to bed. We’ll know when that happens. Then, when she orders breakfast in the morning or leaves her suite, we’ll be waiting. I think we can take her clean. . . . Yes, sir, I know how important that is. I’ll call you the minute anything happens.” Dino hung up. “He’s not going to get any sleep tonight,” he said.

“I expect not,” Stone replied.

Dino’s driver returned with a paper bag holding coffee.

“We may as well make ourselves comfortable,” Dino said.

“I had a thought,” Stone said. “Suppose she’s in the café, listening to Bobby Short?”

Dino snorted. “Not everybody has your weird taste in music, Stone.”

The ride up in the elevator seemed a long one.

“I’m in the Towers,” Purdue explained. “The government rents an entire floor, where the UN delegation stays, and there are apartments for visiting dignitaries, including a presidential suite.”

“How interesting,” Marie-Thérèse said. “Who’s in residence at the moment?”

“I’m the only one of the delegation in town. Most of the others arrive tomorrow, for the opening of the Security Coucil session. I saw the director of the FBI in the elevator earlier, though, so I guess he’s staying. I’ll bet he’s commandeered the presidential suite.”

Marie-Thérèse laughed aloud.

“What’s so funny?”

“It’s just that I never thought I’d be this close to the director of the FBI.”

The elevator stopped, and they got out. A man in a dark suit holding a clipboard stopped them.

“It’s all right,” Purdue said, “the lady’s with me.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to see her ID, sir,” the guard said.

“No problem,” Marie-Thérèse said, digging out her wallet and her Texas driver’s license.

The man wrote her name down and noted the time, then returned the license to her. “Sorry for the inconvenience, ma’am,” he said.

“Right this way,” Purdue said, taking her elbow. They walked a few steps and he led them into a suite, tossing his keycard onto a table in the entrance hall.

“Very nice,” she said, looking around. It wasn’t big, but it was certainly elegant. “Where’s the bedroom?”