“May I ask, how did you come by your name?”

“My father’s surname was Peace, and my mother was a religious fanatic.”

“You must get asked about that a lot.”

“Every day of my life—often, several times a day.”

“Ever get tired of it?”

“A very long time ago.”

“Still, you haven’t changed it.”

“Well, nobody has ever forgotten it. And everyone wants my business card.”

“That’s handy.”

“I’ve always found it so.” She recrossed her legs. “Now, what may I do to improve your day?”

Stone searched for a quip, then gave up. “Security cameras.”

“Ah. For what purpose—home movies? Narcissism? Pornography, perhaps?”

“Security.”

She smiled, revealing very white teeth against her fire-engine-red lipstick. “I’m sorry, my attention wandered for a moment. And how do you envision using these cameras?”

“Well, if I should come home and find my front door ajar and hear someone in this office, as I did last night, I would like to have images of that person or persons to remember him or her by.”

“Do you wish this person or persons to know that they are being photographed?”

“I do not. And I would like for the cameras to have the highest resolution available and to operate well in low lighting conditions. So often when I see security recordings, the people in them tend to be unidentifiable.”

“I know exactly what you mean. Do you presently have a security system of any sort?”

“I have one that does just about everything but employ cameras. It is my fond hope that you can install a camera system that is compatible with my present installation, rather than ripping it all out and starting over.”

She stood. “Let’s see what we can do. Where shall we start?”

“Well, since we’re already in my office, what about right here?”

“May I borrow a legal pad?” she asked. “I left my handbag in the car.”

Stone stood, produced one, and offered her a pen.

“You may remain seated,” she said, “while I do a little survey.”

Stone sat down.

She paced the room in every direction, taking notes all the while and occasionally adding a diagram. “Now,” she said, “we will presume that you want the exterior door covered, along with the elevator and— What is that door?” She pointed.

“It leads to the garage.”

“Ah.” She made a note. “Now, shall we drift upward?”

Stone pressed the button for the elevator and allowed her to precede him into the car, while appreciating the view from that angle. They emerged in the entrance hall, where she began by inspecting the front door lock. “We’ll want to replace that,” she said. “Apparently it was picked last night. The Israelis make something more formidable.” She made a note, then proceeded into the living room, making a diagram and marking camera locations on it. “Why do I feel there is a study?”

“Because you are gifted that way,” Stone replied, pointing.