The two of them struggled past the two fat men. “Good riddance,” one of them said. “Move over one, George.”

Stone, followed by Hedy, walked up the aisle and was shown to the first pair of seats at the front of the cabin. “You can have the window,” he said.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t seat you sooner,” the attendant said, “but the seats were booked by someone else who didn’t show. I had to wait until we closed the door and pushed back before giving them to you.”

Hedy eased into her seat. “God, what a relief,” she said. “Do you always fly like this?”

“No, usually I fly myself in a light jet.”

“Why not tonight?”

“I had to leave on short notice for a board meeting tomorrow in Rome.”

“What kind of board?”

“A hotel group. What takes you to Rome?”

“I’m a painter. I’ve taken an apartment for a month, and I’m going to paint Rome.”

“I don’t see any canvases or paints.”

“I shipped all that ahead.”

“Where’s your apartment?”

“In the Pantheon district.”

“Nice.”

“Where are you staying?”

“At the Hassler Villa Medici.”

“Very nice.”

The airplane rolled onto the runway and accelerated. Shortly, the attendant brought them dinner menus.

“I’m starved,” Hedy said, opening the menu. “How about you?”

“I had a first course before my secretary called and told me I had to go to Rome.”

“No luggage?”

“Not even a briefcase. I was lucky my passport was in my jacket pocket. Can I buy you a drink?”

“Several,” she said. “I’m terrified of flying.”

“You don’t look terrified.”

“I guess you’re a calming influence,” she said. “I know bourbon is.”

Stone ordered two double bourbons.

3

The cabin lights came on, and a voice blared over the loudspeakers, first in Italian, then: “Ladies and gentlemen, we will land in Rome in approximately one hour. Breakfast will now be served.”

Stone realized there was a head on his shoulder. She made a noise and sat up. “Did she say breakfast?”

“We ordered it last night, don’t you remember?”

“I remember only bourbon, but I don’t remember how many.”

“Don’t ask.”

A flight attendant set omelets before them and they ate hungrily.

“How do you feel?” Stone asked when their plates had been taken away.

“Nearly human.”

—

They deplaned and walked toward baggage claim. She was pulling a carry-on.

“Do you have any checked luggage?” Stone asked.

“No, I sent it with the painting stuff.”

“Smart. Can I give you a lift into the city?”

“Sure.”

They walked through customs without incident, and Stone saw a man holding a sign with his name on it. A couple of minutes later they were in a large Mercedes sedan.

“You travel well,” she said. “What do you do?”

“I’m an attorney.”

“What firm?”

“Woodman & Weld.”

“They represent my stepfather,” she said.

“Who’s your stepfather?”

“His name is Arthur Steele.”