Hood pointed a thumb to the lobby. "Dropped if off in there?"

"Not at the desk," said the doorman. "She gave it to someone."

An elderly English woman came over, needing a cab.

"Excuse me," the young man said to Hood.

While the doorman walked to the curb and blew his whistle, Hood looked down and tapped his foot impatiently. As he did, Stoll strolled up beside him, followed by Herbert.

"Hi," said Stoll.

Hood was staring at the curb, fighting a storm of emotions.

"You shoved off like a guy whose dog ran onto the highway," Stoll said. "You okay?"

Hood nodded.

"Yeah, I'm convinced," Herbert lied.

"No, really," Hood said distantly. "I, uh-- never mind. It's a long story."

"So's Dune," Stoll said, "but I love it. Want to talk about it? You see somebody?"

Hood was silent for a moment, then said, "Yes."

"Who?" Herbert asked.

Hood answered almost reverently, "A golden lady."

Stop clicked his tongue. "Ooookay," he said. "Sorry I asked." He glanced down at Herbert, who shrugged and gave him a don't-ask-me look.

When the doorman returned, Hood asked quietly, "Did you happen to see who she gave the package to?"

The doorman shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry. I was getting a cab for Herr Tsuburaya and didn't happen to notice."

"It's all right," Hood said. "I understand." He reached into his pocket and gave the doorman a ten-dollar bill. "If she happens to come back, would you try to find out who she is? Tell her that Paul…" He hesitated. "No. Don't tell her who wanted to know. Just try and find out, okay?"

"Ja," the doorman said appreciatively as he stepped to the curb to open the door of an arriving taxi.

Stoll nudged Hood with his hip. "Hey, for ten bucks I'll wait here too. Double coverage."

Hood ignored him. This was insane. He couldn't decide whether he'd walked into a dream or a nightmare.

As the men stood there, a black stretch limousine pulled up. The doorman dashed over and a stocky, silver-haired man emerged. He and Hood saw each other at the same time.

"Herr Hood!" Martin Lang said with a wave and a big, genuine smile. He came forward with short, quick strides, his hand extended. "It's wonderful to see you again. You look very, very well."

"Washington suits me better than Los Angeles," he said.

Though Hood was looking at Lang, he was still seeing the woman. The shift of the head, the blaze of hair- Stop it, he yelled at himself. You have a job to do. And you have a life.

"Actually," Stoll muttered, "Paul looks good because he was able to sleep on the airplane. He'll be nudging Bob and me awake all day."

"I sincerely doubt that," said Lang. "You're not old like me. You have vitality."

As Hood introduced his associates, a tall, blond, distinguished-looking man in his middle forties emerged from the car. He walked over slowly.