Zoe switched the channel and saw three men standing before a gathering of reporters at the United Nations complex in Geneva. One was the UN secretary-general, the second was an Irish rock star who had worked tirelessly to eradicate poverty in Africa, and the third was Martin Landesmann. A fabulously wealthy Geneva-based financier, Landesmann had just announced he was donating one hundred million dollars to improve Third World food production. It was not the first time Landesmann had made such a gesture. Referred to as “Saint Martin” by detractors and supporters alike, Landesmann reportedly had given away at least a billion dollars of his own money to various charitable enterprises. His enormous wealth and generosity were matched only by his reclusiveness and scorn for the press. Landesmann had granted just one interview in his entire life. And Zoe had been the reporter.

“When was this?”

“Earlier this afternoon. He refused to take questions.”

“I’m surprised they were able to convince Martin to even come.”

“I didn’t realize you two were on a first-name basis.”

“Actually, I haven’t spoken to him in months.”

“Maybe it’s time you renewed your relationship.”

“I’ve tried, Jason. He’s not interested in talking.”

“Why don’t you give him a call now?”

“Because I’m going home to take a very long bath.”

“And the rest of the weekend?”

“A trashy book. A couple of DVDs. Maybe a walk in Hampstead Heath if it’s not raining.”

“Sounds rather dull.”

“I like dull, Jason. That’s why I’ve always been so fond of you.”

“I’ll be at Café Rouge in an hour.”

“And I’ll see you Monday morning.”

She hung up the phone and watched Martin Landesmann exit the news conference in Geneva, his silver hair aglow in the flashing of a hundred cameras, his stunning French-born wife, Monique, at his side. For a devoutly private man, Landesmann certainly knew how to cut a striking figure on those rare occasions when he stepped onto the public stage. It was one of Martin’s special gifts, his matchless ability to control what the world knew and saw of him. Zoe was quite confident she knew more about Martin Landesmann than any reporter in the world. Yet even she acknowledged that there was much about Saint Martin and his financial empire that was beyond her grasp.

Landesmann’s image was replaced by that of the new American president, who was launching an initiative to improve relations between the United States and one of its most implacable foes, the Islamic Republic of Iran. Zoe switched off the television, glanced at her watch, and swore softly. It was already a few minutes past six. Her plans for the weekend were not as lackluster as she had led Jason to believe. In fact, they were quite extensive. And she was now running late.