BooksBarbecue
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

“Oh. I’ll report that and call you later.” She closed the phone and sat down.

“Anything?” the director asked her.

“I’m afraid there’s bad news, sir. As I mentioned earlier, the NYPD had her located in a suite in the Carlyle hotel. They staked it out, but she didn’t come home last night.”

“Shit,” the director said. “I thought we had her.”

“So did I, sir.”

“I wonder where she is at this moment,” he mused.

56

At that moment, Marie-Thérèse was looking at the top of the head of a member of the U.S. delegation to the UN. He performed with enthusiasm and considerable skill, she thought, and she told him so.

They were interrupted by the doorbell. Purdue grabbed a robe and signed for breakfast, then wheeled the cart into the bedroom.

“Sorry for the interruption,” Purdue said.

“You should have told him you’d already eaten.”

He laughed and handed her a plate of sausage and eggs. “How much longer are you in New York?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Since my wife isn’t along on this trip, I thought we might see more of each other.”

“It’s hard to know how we could see more of each other than we already have,” she said, laughing.

“You have a point,” he agreed. “Stick around for a while? I’m here through next week.”

“And then, back to the wife.”

“It’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it.”

“Tough?”

“Being married to a rich woman is a hard way to make a living,” he said.

“So, get a divorce.”

“I’ve learned to like my lifestyle, but I can’t afford it on a State Department salary.”

“So, if you want the lifestyle but not the wife, get somebody to kill her.”

He laughed. “You Texans,” he said. “I don’t want to end up the subject of some TV movie-of-the-week.”

It occurred to her that Washington might make a nice change of scene, at the moment. She could rent a car and drive down. “Oh, it can be done quite discreetly,” she said. “I can arrange it.”

“What?”

“You’d be at a Security Council session, or someplace with a lot of witnesses. She’d be the victim of a burglary gone wrong, or something like that. No one would ever be able to connect you to it.”

“You can arrange it?”

“I’m a resourceful person. I was thinking of traveling to Washington, anyway. It would be my pleasure.”

“That sounded as if you wanted to do it yourself.”

“I have some experience at these things.”

“What sort of experience are you talking about?”

“I lied to you, Jeff. I’m not a Texas matron, I’m a professional assassin.”

Purdue laughed heartily. “I’m not sure I can afford you,” he said.