Later, if she survived this, she would allow herself to unravel, kick and scream, but not now. She needed to keep her wits about her — surviving was going to take work. She thought she was beginning to piece things together. She did not know yet what was going on, but she felt that, with a little luck, things would come clear. She had decided to believe her eyes: the house looked awfully empty. All right, it was evening, late, after eleven o’clock, but what she had seen of the place looked big enough to accommodate two dozen residents or more, as well as a butler, two maids, a chef, sous-chef and several chauffeurs. Or alternately, because Chino was single as well as filthy rich, he could pack the place with enough firm young sluts to keep him diverted for weeks on end.

Chino put down the telephone, turned to her, gave a sigh and smiled. “We can relax. We have a little more time, you and I.”

They had captured Sam. She could not let her agony show. She fought to keep her voice under control. “Who do we have to thank for that, Gregory?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” He had moved behind the bar. “Your champagne must be terribly flat. I’ll open another bottle.”

“It’s fine, thank you. I couldn’t help noticing that here, and at your other place —”

“Other place?”

“Where Gregory did your dirty work. All the pictures have been removed from the walls.”

“They’re in Europe for cleaning.” He scratched his nose. “They needed it.”

A lie. Would he appreciate knowing that the way he had given himself away had been discussed in her first psychology course? She decided to try a lie herself — but she wouldn’t cover her mouth as he had just done. “Gregory says your collection is magnificent. I would have liked to have seen it.”

“Gregory, Gregory! What is this fascination with Gregory?”

“I was talking about you art collection, babe!” She stopped: she had never called anyone but Sam babe. If this guy wanted to draw her into his depravity, he was succeeding. “While we’re at it, when I asked you before about what Gregory meant when he said the world had heard the last of us, you went off on a rant that did everything but answer the question —”

“I told you: Gregory is a sadist. He was having fun. It doesn’t interest me. You’re the one who interests me. That’s why you’re here.”

“Then talk nice to me.”

“I told you, I watched you on CNN. I had people tape you for me. And now I find there’s so much more to you than a complacent satisfied American wife — “He came around the bar toward her.

“And as I said, ‘You’ll live. Maybe.’” Her trembling lip betrayed her. He laughed out loud. She had to stop herself from backing away from him.