“You don’t have to. If you don’t want to go back to New York, I think it’s best if I move to a hotel for the duration, whatever that is. Or, if you like, we can go to Paris until things cool off here.”

“Why Paris?”

“Because I have a house there.”

“God, how many houses do you have?”

“It’s a weakness of mine—I like having houses in places I like.”

“But not Rome?”

“I haven’t spent much time here for a long time. In fact, until this trip, I had never spent much more than a long weekend here.”

He let them into the apartment and locked the door behind them.

“I thought you were just an attorney,” Hedy said, “but attorneys don’t make enough money to have houses all over the place.”

“Some attorneys do. I’m also an investor in two privately owned corporations that make money.”

“Is one of them the hotel business?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the other?”

“Strategic Services, who are providing our security.”

“All right, tell me where I would be safe.”

Stone thought about that. “Hawaii.”

“Why Hawaii?”

“It’s a long way from here, and it doesn’t have a Mafia that I’m aware of.”

“Am I safer in Hawaii than in Paris?”

“Paris is just as safe.”

“All right, let’s go to Paris—at least I can paint there.”

There was a rap on the Great Iron Door.

“Who is it?”

“Hal.”

Stone opened the door. “We’re going to need a ride to Ciampino Airport tomorrow morning, early, before the Mafia wakes up.”

“Okay,” Hal said. “I’ll have a car here. What time?”

“Eight o’clock should be okay.”

“Done. Everything okay here?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll have a look around.”

“Go ahead.”

Hal disappeared into the apartment; after a moment he came back and crooked a finger at Stone.

Stone followed him into the bedroom. The words Go Home! were written on the bedspread in what looked a lot like blood.

Stone whipped the bedspread off the bed, so that Hedy wouldn’t see it. “Make it seven AM for the car,” he said.

—

While they were having a very early breakfast the following morning, Stone called Pat Frank’s office in New York.

“I’d like the airplane out of the hangar, full tanks, file for Le Bourget at eight AM,” he said to the person on duty.

“Roger wilco,” the young woman said. “Your flight plan will be waiting for you at Sky Services. Do you require catering?”

“No, thanks. Just ask them to be sure the airplane has been topped off with fuel. They were supposed to do it on arrival, but be sure.”

“Certainly. We recommend Landmark Aviation at Le Bourget. Would you like hangarage there?”

“Yes, and fueling on arrival.”

“And a car and driver into Paris?”

“Yes, please.”

“Please let us know if we can be of further help.”