I was turning in a long circle, trying to take it all in. I’d thought I was alone, but as I finished the three-sixty I found out that I wasn’t. I might have heard the movement through the air, before I saw the flashing motion in my peripheral vision. Whatever, that didn’t matter much, just a little bit. It was the little bit that saved me. Because a fist the size of my head was coming at me fast. Instead of flinching away, which would have been useless, I flinched into it and twisted at the last minute. The punch didn’t hit me straight on, my last minute twist made it a glancing blow. Which was enough to knock me flat on the ground, given the size of the fist and the muscle behind it.

I saw stars, literally. The ceiling above me was a night sky motif. A nymph was entwined around a half-moon. Then the giant Caro stepped in and looked down at me. I pulled the Beretta from my tactical vest. He swatted it away. He reached down with a massive paw and pulled away the H&K, handed it over to someone else. I started to get up, but a female voice said, “Not just yet.”

It was Martaud, or Inspector Martaud, as she’d called herself.

She was holding the H&K up and trained on me. “I’m really not happy with you, Keeler.” Her steel gray hair was up in a chignon. She looked sharp.

I said, “You’re happy with yourself? Helping these people get away with their crimes?”

“I don’t give a shit what they get away with, as long as they pay. Now you’ve scared off my clients, and they’re not going to be paying anymore. So yes, I’m really rather displeased. It isn’t easy finding clients these days. The market has become a lot more competitive. There are a lot of people relying on me for their livelihoods, Keeler.”

Martaud nodded to Caro. He picked me up by my neck with one hand and gut punched me with the other. The punch threw me a couple of feet. My head slammed into the cushioned side of a sofa. I took the pain and rode it out. Then I looked up at him and spoke calmly. “That’s it, you beast. Anymore and you die badly, in terror, rather than cleanly, in surprise.”

Martaud coughed out a weird laugh. “What I’m going to do is let Caro tear you to pieces. That will be your punishment.”

Caro wasn’t laughing, he looked deranged, like he was under the influence, which I figured he was. The giant was twitching with barely contained violence. His blond hair was swept back and unkempt. I noticed that Caro’s fists were clenching and loosening, in a looping, involuntary spasm.

I said to Martaud, “What are you ex-French intelligence, DGSE?”