Stone punched off the phone. “What do you think?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “Let’s wait until you hear from him with the wiring instructions. By that time, I’ll have the funds available to make the transfer. We’ll wire them to your Swiss account, and then you can forward them to the Belgian account. That way it will look entirely kosher. You’ll have to sign for the funds, of course.” She smiled. “We can’t have you running off with our money.”

“Suppose I did?”

“I’d hunt you down; you couldn’t hide for long.”

“I don’t think I’d want you on my trail,” Stone said.

Carpenter looked at her watch. “I have to go home and get some sleep.”

“Can I drive you?”

“I’m within walking distance.”

“Then I’ll walk you.”

“That won’t do, I’m afraid. You get some sleep; I’ll be back here by eight in the morning.” She stood up.

Stone walked her to the door and said good night. Stone went back to the kitchen, where Dino was polishing off a final dumpling.

“She doesn’t want you to know where she lives,” Dino said.

“I guess not.”

“Or her name.”

“I guess not.”

“It’s a shame; she’s quite a broad; I’ve never met anybody like her.”

“Neither have I,” Stone admitted.

“What did you tell Sarah about tonight?”

“Business.”

“I suppose that wasn’t too much of a lie.”

“I try never to lie.”

“The best policy,” Dino agreed.

They had a brandy, then went to bed.

Stone was already up and dressed the following morning, when Carpenter rang the bell.

“Good morning,” she said. Today she was dressed more informally, in a cotton pantsuit that complemented her figure.

“Come in,” Stone said.

“Heard anything from Cabot?”

“No, not yet. He said he’d call at nine. Have you had breakfast?”

“No.”

“Come to the kitchen; I’ll make you some eggs.”

Carpenter followed him into the kitchen, where Dino was making coffee. Stone scrambled some eggs, English-style, and fried some superb smoked Irish back bacon. They were just finishing when nine o’clock came.

Stone looked at his watch. “Any minute,” he said.

“My funds are ready to go,” Carpenter said. “The minute you have the wiring instructions.”

By ten o’clock, Stone had still not heard from Lance.

“Call him,” Carpenter said.

Stone dialed the Farm Street house; Erica answered.

“Hi,” Stone said, “may I speak with Lance?”

“He’s not here,” she said, and she sounded upset.

“What’s wrong?” Stone asked.

“He left in the middle of the night; I didn’t wake up until Monica called a few minutes ago.”

“You sound a little groggy.”

“I know; I can’t seem to wake up.”

“Did Lance leave a note?”

“No, nothing; and all his clothes are gone. I mean, everything, and all his luggage, too.”