Stone ordered two and watched the man disappear down the stairs toward the toilets. Shortly, he heard a police siren from somewhere outside.

Casselli had been gone ten minutes when Rick LaRose came in, sat down in his place, and began drinking his espresso.

“I didn’t hear from you through my earpiece,” Stone said, fishing the thing out with its hook.

“I thought you were doing very well without my help,” Rick replied.

“Did you take him?”

“He had a car waiting outside the kitchen door—a Paris police car. He’s gone.”

23

Rick walked back to the house with Stone, and once inside he excused himself and went into the library to make phone calls. It was getting chilly, so Stone lit the fire. Finally, Rick returned and sank into an easy chair.

“What did Lance have to say?” Stone asked.

“Lance was not amused.”

“Wasn’t it a police operation?”

“It was ours, with police backup.”

“Ah.”

“Lance was incensed that you invoked not only the Agency, but the president.”

“You told him that?”

“He listened to your recording.”

“Swell.”

“What do you think Casselli will do now?”

“Do?”

“I thought that when you decided to let loose at Casselli you might have given some thought to how he would react. Did you think he would just leave meekly and never darken your life again?”

“Frankly, I thought he would be in the Bastille by now. It’s just around the corner from Lipp.”

“I don’t think the gendarmes relished the thought of chasing one of their own cars through the streets of Paris with lights flashing and sirens sounding. It would have made the evening news.”

“Can’t the Italian police pick him up at the other end?”

“Pick him up for what? He’s not wanted in Italy, and you apparently forgot to get him to incriminate himself.”

“I got mad, I guess.”

“I especially liked the parts about the ‘tsunami’ and ‘flaying of flesh off his bones.’”

“I’m glad you appreciated my performance.”

“I should have given you a script.”

“I probably wouldn’t have followed it.”

“I guess not. What are you going to do now?”

“Spend a few days here, I guess, then go back to Rome.”

“Back to Rome?”

“Well, I can’t abandon Marcel in the middle of all this, and Hedy needs to go back.”

“May I suggest that you persuade Marcel to run his business from Paris, and that you and Hedy get your asses back to New York?”

“And anyway, I promised Casselli a tsunami.”

“You mean that wasn’t an empty threat?”

“Certainly not. We’ve got Bertelli on our side, and he’s the key man in Italy. I’ll talk to Marcel about posting a reward for Casselli’s neck in a noose.”

“You think that will work?”

“Why not? Italians like money as well as everybody else, maybe more. It might shake somebody loose.”