"Word has already reached Samas then that you're overdue and were most likely unsuccessful. That bastard is probably on the phone to his next prospective helper by now." She knelt down and rolled up the painting, taking notice of the handwritten message on the back. She translated aloud. 'To my dearest Emil, the only woman I have ever loved. Your favors have become the star that I steer by.' "Ugg," she exhaled in disgust, "how saccharine." She looked at the portrait for several seconds. "I just can't picture it can you?" she asked, holding it up for me.

"I prefer not to think about it."

She inserted the roll back into the guitar and closed the case. "Are you ready?"

I leveled my eyes at her. "Are you here to help me with this? Because if you're not, I'm going through with this as planned, down at the docks."

Unaffected, she picked up the case, walked over to me and placed it on the bed next to my leg. "You can do whatever you like. I believe I can help you Evan, and you me. What you need to ask yourself is whether or not you can trust me."

"Can I trust you?" I shot back.

She looked up at the cracked plaster ceiling for a few seconds before answering. "Yes, you can trust me. I will protect any financial interest you have in this. In fact, I will better his offer and take it from you now if you like."

I was shocked by her offer. It was tempting. If I accepted, it meant that I could walk out the door a multi-millionaire, unencumbered by the stolen piece. Her exotic eyes burned charcoal black as I mulled it over. She wanted this worse than I, and I wanted to see why. "I appreciate your offer but I think I'd like to see this thing through to the end, with you."

Her face burst into a bright smile. "Oh, I hoped you would say that. Get your shoes on, we're about to make a killing."

Her driver steered the white sedan onto the airport tarmac toward a small lone white jet. 'Fabric des Glaces St. Gobain' was stenciled across the fuselage in French red, white and blue.

"Rabat," she shouted into the cockpit as she entered the plane. "I think he'll be surprised. What do you think?" she asked me.

"He'll certainly be surprised to see you. I know I was," I mumbled to myself.

The lowering whine of the engines woke me as they throttled back for a descent. My arms still clutched the case close to my chest. Poppy spoke French into a portable phone from her seat in the back. She came forward to see me as soon as she'd finished her conversation.

"Good morning. There's a car waiting for us on the ground. Do you know how to get to his home?"

"Yes, I remember the way."