“Who wouldn’t?” Seymour tapped the photo with his forefinger. “But where did you take this?”

“Outside Martin’s apartment in Paris. She spent the night with him.”

“You’re sure?”

“Would you like to see more photos?”

“God, no!” Seymour said. “I’ve never cared for operations involving matters of the heart. They can be extremely messy.”

“Life is messy, Graham. That’s what keeps people like you and me in business.”

“Perhaps. But if this recruitment of yours isn’t handled carefully, I won’t be in this business for long.” Seymour looked down at the photo and shook his head slowly. “Why couldn’t Martin fall for a waitress like every other cad?”

“He has excellent taste.”

“I’d withhold judgment on that until you meet her. She has something of a reputation. It’s quite possible she’ll turn you down.” Seymour paused, then added, “And, of course, there’s another possibility.”

“What’s that?”

“She could be in love with him.”

“She won’t be when I’m finished.”

“Don’t be so sure. Women have a way of looking past the faults of the men they love.”

“Yes,” Gabriel said. “I’ve heard that somewhere before.”

CHAPTER 46

46

THAMES HOUSE, LONDON

Operation Masterpiece became a joint American-British-Israeli undertaking at 11:45 the following morning, when Graham Seymour emerged from No. 10 Downing Street with the last of the required ministerial authorizations tucked safely inside his secure briefcase. The speed with which the agreement was concluded was a testament to Seymour’s current standing in Whitehall. It was also, Seymour would later admit, a rather astute display of good old-fashioned realpolitik. If Martin Landesmann were to go down, the mandarins reckoned, chances were good a great deal of British money would go down with him. In their calculation, it was better to be a party to Gabriel’s operation than a spectator. Otherwise, there might be nothing left of Martin’s financial carcass but bleached bones and a bit of loose change.

For the moment, the Americans were content to play the role of confidant and trusted adviser. Indeed, within hours of the interservice gathering at Thames House, Adrian Carter was Langley-bound aboard his Gulfstream V executive jet. Gabriel Allon had no airplane of his own, nor did he have any intention of leaving his operation solely in the hands of even a trusted friend like Graham Seymour. Gabriel had found the target and Gabriel intended to personally close the deal. This presented MI5’s lawyers with a bit of a problem. Yes, they declared after much deliberation, it was permissible for an officer of a foreign intelligence service to take part in such a discussion. But only after said officer had been told, in no uncertain terms, the legal facts of life.