"Sounds like a good start. Would you like a ride back to the airport?"

I nodded. "Thank you," I said behind a cupped hand.

She smiled. "It is I who should thank you. Oh, that was fun."

Samas' voice cracked as he spoke into the receiver. "I need to affect a transaction, Mr. Diltz. Into the accounts of Poppy and Evan, ten million American dollars. Yes, each." He hung up the phone without saying goodbye and lay back in his chair, clutching the roll. "It is done," he said, defeated.

Poppy looked at me and nodded toward the stairs.

I walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. I felt pity for him, not for what had happened but for what he was. "Thank you for the opportunity. Sorry it turned out this way. You can keep the guitar, for Zohra I mean."

Poppy suppressed a snicker and took my arm as we walked out.

"Hey," Samas called out over his shoulder. "Does this make us even?"

She stopped at the top of the stairs and thought for an instant. "Why not, life is cheap."

Zohra sat on the bottom step wringing her hands. She started nervously at our presence then bolted upright and sprinted up the stairs past us as we descended. Poppy rested her head on my shoulder and squeezed my arm as we walked silently back to the car.

"Where are you off to now?" I asked her as the driver wheeled up next to the jet.

"Back to France, then Los Angeles. What about you?"

"Zurich first, I need to get my finances in order."

She stepped out into the noonday heat. "How does it feel to be rich?"

I plunged a hand into my pocket and pulled out the last of my money. "I wouldn't know yet. I'm down to my last fifty bucks. Speaking of which, I was wondering if you had any cash, enough to get me to Switzerland maybe?"

"Sure," she said, walking across the tarmac to the plane. "Will ten thousand francs be sufficient?"

"I think so." I followed her up the steps into the jet. She opened a polished wooden panel against the back wall and removed ten wrapped packs of bills from a pile of more than a hundred.

"Here you go," she said handing me the blue bundles. "I'd like it very much if you would come to see me whenever you are back in Los Angeles." She moved closer and gave me a quick kiss. "Take care, Evan."

I stood alone in the hot blasting jet wash as the plane taxied away, the stack of bills in one hand, the cane in the other. I watched the jet until it slowly rolled behind a hangar then turned and began the long walk across the open expanse of asphalt to the commercial terminal.

The money showed in a lewd bulge as I waited nervously in the ticket line.

"Your destination?" asked the woman behind the ticket counter.