After lunch, Hedy took her easel and paints into the mews, picked a spot, set up, and began to paint. Stone found a half-finished book next to his easy chair and set about finishing it. He read until the shadows outside were long, then he put his head back and dozed for a while.

He was awakened by the slamming of the front door. Hedy came into the room, wiping paint from her hands, and kissed him on the forehead. “Sorry about the noise, the door got away from me.” She held up the painting.

“Wonderful!” he said. “And sold!”

“It’s my gift to you for keeping me entertained and safe, not necessarily in that order.”

The phone rang, and Stone picked it up. “Hello?”

“It’s Dino. We’re booked on a late plane, and we should be at your house by ten tomorrow morning.”

“Then I’ll put sheets on the bed. See you then.” He hung up. “My friend Dino Bacchetti and his wife, Viv, are joining us for a few days. They’ll be here mid-morning tomorrow.”

“Oh, good. He’s the cop, right?”

“New York City’s top cop.”

“Then I’ll feel even safer. When’s dinner?”

“At seven.”

“Then I’m going to have a bath and change.” She kissed him again and went upstairs.

Stone went into the kitchen and asked Marie to get a guest room ready. She nodded, then went on cooking.

—

The following morning Stone was awakened by the doorbell, and a moment later Marie knocked on the door and entered. “Federal Express,” she said, handing him a package.

“It’s my new phone,” he said to Hedy, who was stirring.

“Why a new phone?”

“Because Casselli doesn’t have the number.”

They had breakfast in bed, then showered and went downstairs to greet their guests. At the stroke of ten, the gate bell rang, and Stone buzzed in the car carrying the Bacchettis. He embraced them both, then introduced them to Hedy, while the driver and Marie made their luggage disappear.

“Breakfast?” he asked them.

“We had it on the plane,” Dino said. “Just coffee, after we’ve cleaned up a little.”

—

They came down looking brighter, and Stone gave them his new phone number. “Put that in your phone,” he said to both of them.

“Why the new number?”

“Because Casselli has the old one, and I got tired of hanging up on him.”

They settled into the living room for coffee.

“I’ve done a little research on Casselli,” Dino said. “He has a record in New York going back to his teens, but about fifteen years ago he came over all respectable and started giving money to hospitals and museums.”

“Sounds like he was using Eduardo Bianchi as his model.”