“She likes champagne; give her half a bottle of something good and charge the whole thing to my house account.”

“I’ll see that it’s done, Stone.”

Stone said goodbye and hung up. His stomach was growling, and he hated missing this lunch.

He was eating a ham sandwich when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“It’s Sarah; I understand you’re standing me up.”

“I am so very sorry; I was looking forward to seeing you, but something extremely…intrusive has come up.”

“So, I have to drink the Veuve-Clicquot all by myself?”

“For the moment, I’m afraid.”

“Shall I come to you after lunch?”

“No, we definitely can’t do that.”

“How about dinner?”

He hesitated. “Where are you staying?”

“I have some friends’ apartment all to myself. They’re in Europe.”

Stone thought about this.

“Are you there?” she asked after a moment.

“Yes, I’m sorry; I was thinking.”

“Is this such a tough decision, Stone?”

“Of course not; I’m dying to see you, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“We can’t be seen together.”

“Stone, did you get married during my absence?”

“No, no, nothing like that.”

“Are you living with someone?”

“No. It’s just that there’s a very difficult situation I’m dealing with, and I don’t want you drawn into it.”

“How about if I cook you some dinner? I learned a lot in Italy.”

“Are you sure that won’t be too much trouble?”

“Of course not.” She gave him the address.

“Can I bring something?”

“You can bring the wine.”

“Red or white?”

“Red. Something Italian; something robust.”

“What time?”

“Eight?”

“Eight it is, and again, I apologize for the situation.”

“I’ll give you an opportunity to make it up to me.” She hung up.

Stone called Dino.

“Bacchetti.”

“Dino, it’s Stone; I have an idea.”

“Yeah?”

“This guy is obviously keeping tabs on me, and he’s not stupid; he’s already made the people you’ve got watching the house.”

“I agree.”

“You remember Sarah Buckminster?”

“The limey you used to go out with? Sure. Didn’t she flee the country to get away from you?”

“She’s back, and I have a dinner date with her. She’s staying at a friend’s apartment on Fifth Avenue in the Seventies, and I’m due up there at eight.”

“I’ll see that you’re followed.”

“No, he’ll expect that. Instead, have the building covered; put a guy in the lobby and one on the street. If he follows me, he won’t know what apartment I’m visiting. Maybe he’ll try and talk to the doorman, or maybe he’ll just lurk around, waiting for me to leave. Either way, we might get a chance to grab him.”

“What’s the exact address?”

Stone told him.

“Okay. Call me at home when you get there.”

“How are Mary Ann and Ben?”