“We keep room one-oh-oh-three at the Hotel Kirwan, on Park Avenue South at Thirty-seventh Street. Use that address. I’ll get some women’s clothes and a suitcase over there, too.”

“Thank you.” She closed the phone, returned it to her handbag, checked her makeup, and left the ladies’ room. Maybe she was just paranoid. She hoped so. She returned to her bar stool. “Can I have the check, please?” she asked the bartender.

He brought her the check. “What’s your name, and how can I get in touch?” he asked. She took a pen and a small pad from her purse and wrote down her name and cell phone number. “Call me tomorrow,” she said. She put some cash on the bar, including a big tip, got into her coat, and started for the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the cop get up from his table and reach for his coat.

She walked outside and stood at the curb, her hand held up for a taxi. Then he was behind her.

“Freeze, police!” Dino said, his weapon stretched out before him. He kept a good six feet between them.

Marie-Thérèse looked over her shoulder, feigning surprise. “What?” she said.

Then they were all over her, cuffing her wrists, going through her handbag. “No weapons,” a detective said.

“Search the ladies’ room,” Dino replied, as they hustled her into a squad car.

31

Stone snapped out of a deep sleep. The phone was ringing. He was momentarily disoriented, looking around the dark bedroom, trying to figure out where he was.

“Are you going to answer that?” Carpenter asked.

Stone fumbled for the phone. “Hello?”

“Gee, I hope I didn’t interrupt any screwing,” Dino said.

“Dino, what’s going on? What time is it?”

“Not all that late. Let me speak to Carpenter.”

“She’s asleep.”

“No, I’m not,” Carpenter said, snatching the phone from Stone. “Hello, Dino?”

“Sorry to wake you up, but I thought you’d want to be brought up to date on developments.”

“What’s happened?”

“I arrested a young woman—early thirties, medium height, medium build—at Elaine’s tonight.”

“You mean you’ve got her?”

“Looks that way.”

“How did you identify her?”

“She’s carrying a Swiss passport in the name of Marie-Thérèse du Bois, and she matches the picture.”

“I’m on my way,” Carpenter said. “Don’t you dare let her get away.”

“She’s locked in an interrogation room. She’s not going anywhere.”

“I’ll be there in an hour and a half. You can use the time to good effect by photographing her repeatedly and fingerprinting her. Get DNA samples, too.”

“She’s called a lawyer, but I don’t know how that’s going to help her. I’ve got the deputy DA on the way, too. Hurry up!” He hung up.

“Dino’s got La Biche?” Stone asked incredulously.