Azouri raised his glass in Gabriel’s direction. “We’ve made good business together, Mike. I won’t deny that. I’d like to continue working for you. That’s why someone else needs to run down to Ein al-Hilweh for you. It’s too rich for my blood. Too dangerous.”

Azouri signaled the waiter and ordered another bottle of the French champagne. Refusing an offer of work wasn’t going to keep him from having a good meal on the Office tab. Gabriel tossed an envelope onto the table. Azouri eyed it thoughtfully but made no move for it.

“How much is in there, Mike?”

“Two thousand.”

“What flavor?”

“Dollars.”

“So what’s the deal? Half now, half on delivery? I’m just a dumb Arab, but two thousand and two thousand add up to four thousand, and I’m not going into Ein al-Hilweh for four thousand dollars.”

“Two thousand is only the retainer.”

“And how much for delivery of the information?”

“Another five.”

Azouri shook his head. “No, another ten.”

“Six.”

Another shake of the head. “Nine.”

“Seven.”

“Eight.”

“Done,” said Gabriel. “Two thousand in advance, another eight on delivery. Not bad for an afternoon’s work. If you behave yourself we’ll even throw in gas money.”

“Oh, you’ll pay for the gas, Mike. My expenses are always separate from my fee.” The waiter brought the second bottle of champagne. When he was gone again, Azouri said, “So what do you want to know?”

“I want you to find someone.”

“There are forty-five thousand refugees in that camp, Mike. Help me out a little bit.”

“He’s an old man named al-Tamari.”

“First name?”

“We don’t know it.”

Azouri sipped his wine. “It’s not a terribly common name. It shouldn’t be a problem. What else can you tell me about him?”

“He’s a refugee from the Western Galilee.”

“Most of them are. Which village?”

Gabriel told him.

“Family details?”

“Two sons were killed in eighty-two.”

“In the camp?”

Gabriel nodded. “They were Fatah. Apparently his wife was killed, too.”

“Lovely. Go on.”

“He had a daughter. She ended up in Europe. I want to know everything you can find out about her. Where she went to school. What she studied. Where she lived. Who she slept with.”

“What’s the girl’s name?”

“I don’t know.”

“Age?”

“Early thirties, I’d say. Spoke decent French.”

“Why are you looking for her?”

“We think she may have been involved in the attack on the Gare de Lyon.”

“Is she still alive?”

Gabriel shook his head. Azouri looked out at the beach for a long moment. “So you think that by tracing the background of the girl, you’re going to get to the big boss? The brains behind the operation?”

“Something like that, Nabil.”

“How do I play it with the old man?”

“Play it any way you want to,” Gabriel said. “Just get me what I need.”