“I know one of them!” Casselli spat. “His name is Barrington, and he is the partner of Marcel duBois! I want him found and brought to me immediately!”

“Ah, so that is Barrington,” the man said. “We know where he is.”

“Where?”

“At the building belonging to Marcel duBois. It is surrounded by the police and the DIA, and there are vehicles there registered to the American Embassy.”

“Then bring him to me!”

“Don Leonardo, I am sorry to say that the security in the building and its courtyard has been impenetrable for us, and they have discovered and disconnected our cameras and listening devices in the building. On the one occasion that Barrington and his friend left the building and drove to Tivoli, they did so in an embassy vehicle that had bulletproof glass and bodywork, and our attempt to kidnap them failed.”

“So now I have to deal not only with the police and the DIA, but the health department, building inspectors, and the Americans?”

“It would appear so, Don Leonardo. I regret that, in the present circumstances, we are unable to carry out your orders.”

Casselli glared at the man and waited for him to wilt, but he did not. He began to admire his courage, and, being a practical man, he recognized that what he was being told was true. “Still,” he said, “we have an edge.”

“We do, Don Leonardo? What is that?”

“Give me a secure cell phone,” Casselli said.

The man removed a phone from his pocket and handed it to him.

Casselli looked closely at it. “This cannot be traced?”

“We change them every day,” the man said. “That one has not yet been used.”

Casselli took a notebook from his pocket and found a number, then dialed it.

—

Stone was alone in the living room when his phone rang. He checked caller ID and saw nothing. “Hello?”

“Good day, Mr. Barrington,” Casselli said. “Do you know who this is?”

Of course he knew, but he wanted Casselli to say it. “No. Who are you?”

“This is Leonardo Casselli.”

“Oh, yes, I remember you. I last saw you running from a Paris restaurant, ahead of the police.”

“Very far ahead. It was duplicitous of you to try to take me, and worse, ineffective.”

“What can I do for you, Leo?” He knew Casselli hated being called that.

“How would you like to buy back the girl?”

“I would have to speak to her, before I can even discuss that,” Stone said. “I will need proof of life. Surely you have kidnapped people before—you know how these things are done.”

“I can arrange for you to hear her scream,” Casselli said through clenched teeth.

“Come now, Leo, making threats will not get us to a mutually satisfying conclusion. What do you want?”

“Fifty million euros,” Casselli said, “and the attention of the police withdrawn.”

Stone laughed aloud and hung up the phone. He called Lugano.

“Yes?”