Hood decided to remain in front of the desk, not behind it. He had a personal loathing for theatrics and wanted to make this as clean and direct as possible. But he knew he had better be close to her.

He picked up a manila envelope from the desk. He held it toward her but didn't let go.

"This was delivered over the weekend via the German diplomatic pouch," Hood said. "It's from Deputy Foreign Minister Hausen."

Hood waited. He'd gone to Matt's condo on Sunday and had him run a computer analysis to make sure. There was no doubt. Though he'd been dreading this moment since the package arrived, he had to go through with it.

"I'm listening," Fox said.

Hood said, "Years ago, Gerard Dominique and Richard Hausen were students together in Paris. They were out one night. They'd been drinking."

Fox's naturally ruddy cheeks lost some of their color. Her dark eyes fell to the package.

"May I?" she asked, holding out her hand.

Hood gave it to her. She brought it toward her, holding it in both hands. She pressed it between her thumbs and index fingers, moved them from side to side trying to feel what was inside.

"Photographs," she said.

Hood came closer. He said gently, "Senator, please sit down."

She shook her head and put a hand into the envelope. She selected a photograph without looking. She looked at it.

The color snapshot showed a girl standing on the top of the Eiffel Tower, hazy Paris spread behind her.

"Lucy," the Senator said. Her voice was choked, barely audible. She put it back and then hugged the envelope to her breast. "What happened, Paul?"

Hood watched as tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away and crushed the envelope tighter.

"Dominique attacked them," Hood said. "Hausen tried to stop him. We found these photographs in Dominique's office at Demain."

The Senator's eyes were shut. Her breath was shallow. "My baby," she said. "My Lucy."

Hood wanted to put his arms around her. Instead he just watched her, aware of the inadequacy of any words or gestures he might offer. He was also aware of the political icon becoming flesh. And he knew then that whatever might come between them in the future, she could never entirely retreat from him. Not after what they'd just shared.

The Senator obviously knew it too. She relaxed her arms and looked at Hood. Then she took a cleansing breath and returned the envelope to Hood. "Would you mind keeping these for a time? After twenty-five years, you've given me-- well, it's the buzzword of the nineties," the Senator said, "but you've given me closure. I'm just not ready yet to deal with the grief again. I suspect there will be a lot of that in Dominique's trial."

"I understand," Hood said. He laid the envelope behind him on the desk. He remained standing so she wouldn't have to see it.