“I declined, and he said he would send a gift instead. It arrived a few minutes ago. It’s a large box from Tiffany’s.”

“Where is the box?”

“On a table in my study.”

“Have you touched it?”

“No.”

“Don’t. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Please let the front gate know I’m coming.”

Stone hung up, called the front gate and told them to let Billy in when he arrived.

—

Billy walked into the room without knocking, carrying a briefcase, and went straight to the box. He walked slowly around it, then lifted it carefully and peered at the bottom and set it down again. “Would you and Gala please leave the room?” he asked.

“Gala, please leave the room,” Stone said.

She started for the door, then stopped. “What about you?”

“I’m going to stay with Billy.”

She left the room and closed the door behind her.

“Are you sure?” Billy asked.

“If you’re staying, I’m staying.”

Billy set his briefcase on the table slowly, then opened it. He removed a small box cutter, placed his hand on top of the box, and pressed the box cutter against the side until it pierced the cardboard. Then he began sawing, until he had cut a circular hole about four inches in diameter. He then put the cut cardboard and the box cutter into the briefcase, bent over and sniffed at the hole. “Uh-oh,” he said. He removed a small flashlight from his briefcase and shone its bright light into the box, then he turned it off and stepped back. “There’s a piece of plastic explosive in there half the size of my hand—about four ounces, I estimate. Enough to destroy this room and kill anyone near it.”

“I’m glad I didn’t open it,” Stone said.

“It’s time to call the bomb squad,” Billy said.

“What’s the alternative?”

“I can disable it myself.”

“Safely?”

“I wouldn’t do it if I thought I’d get killed.”

“Then let’s leave the police out of it,” Stone said. “It would take me days to deal with them.”

Billy went back to his briefcase, removed a pair of wire cutters and the flashlight, and went to work. A minute later, he stood back. “All clear,” he said. “What would you like me to do with the explosive?”

“I don’t want it.”

“Then I’ll dispose of it, if that’s all right.”

“That’s all right,” Stone said.

Billy reached into the box through the hole he had made, removed a slab of what looked like modeling clay, put it into his briefcase, and closed it. He picked up the briefcase in one hand and the Tiffany’s box in the other. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Thank you, Billy,” Stone said.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Stone said.

Gala stuck her head in. “Everything all right?”