“But you haven’t managed to get it yet,” I went on. “Belghazi keeps the computer with him all the time. When you finally got a crack at it, you couldn’t get past the password protection.”

“We should talk about the other things we know,” she said.

“Yes?”

“Like what you want with Belghazi.”

I shrugged. “I’ve got other business with Belghazi. What’s on his computer doesn’t interest me.”

“Yes, you seemed uninterested in his computer. More interested in him.”

I said nothing. There was no advantage in confirming any of her insights.

“And he was right there. Unconscious. Helpless. I asked myself, ‘Why did this man leave without finishing what he came for?’ ”

“You don’t know what I came for,” I said, but of course she did.

“You’d knocked me down, and I obviously didn’t have a weapon,” she said, looking at me. “I couldn’t have done anything to prevent you. And you knew it. But you didn’t follow through.”

I shrugged, still looking for a way to throw her off. “Maybe I didn’t want to harm a naked woman,” I said.

She shook her head. “I’ve known some hard men, men who can act without compunction. I recognize the type.”

“I wasn’t expecting you. You startled me.”

She smiled, and I knew I wasn’t changing her diagnosis. “Maybe. Or maybe your ‘business’ with Belghazi has to be carried out in a… circumspect way. So that no one would know that any business was done. And you couldn’t pull that off with someone else in the room.”

I hadn’t expected her to follow this line of reasoning. I’m usually good at putting myself in the other person’s shoes, anticipating his next move. But she had outplayed me on this one. Time to try to regain some initiative, give myself a second to think.

“It’s funny, I’m asking myself some of the same things about you,” I said. “For example, ‘Why hasn’t she or her people just taken the computer and run?’ ”

She smiled just a little, maybe conceding the point.

“Let me guess,” I went on. “If Belghazi realized that the information on the computer had been compromised, he would implement countermeasures. No, let me amend that. Because if Belghazi were the only one you were worried about, you’d just put him to sleep yourself and take the briefcase at your leisure. So he’s not the only one who might take countermeasures if it’s discovered that the computer has been compromised. There are others, people or organizations who would be affected by the information you’re trying to acquire. And when you acquire it, it’s critical that they not know. Is that about it? Maybe I’m not the only one whose moves might have to be ‘circumspect.’ ”

She cocked her head slightly as though I’d finally started to say something interesting. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, stealing is easy. Stealing without the victim knowing he’s been robbed, this takes some doing.”

The waitress brought our caipirinhas in frosted glasses and moved away. Delilah tipped hers back and took a long sip. “Like you,” she went on. “Killing is easy. Killing and making it look like something else? That would require some… artistry.”

She used “this” and “that” slightly mechanically, as I would expect from someone who had acquired English later in life. “Stealing” was “this.” “Killing” was “that.” The first was hers, the other, mine. I didn’t think these verbal cues were deliberate. I took them as small, additional signs that my conclusions about what she was after were correct.

We were silent for several moments, each digesting what the other had said, reassessing the situation.

She said, “It seems that we’re in mirror-image positions. Maybe we can help each other.”

“I’m not sure I follow you,” I told her, although I thought I did.

She shrugged. “Your presence makes it difficult for me to do my job. My presence makes it hard for you to do yours. Mirror images.”

“Your mirrors might be a little distorted,” I said, taking a swallow of the caipirinha. “If something happens to you, Belghazi would be alarmed. Or his demise might not look ‘circumspect.’ But if something happens to me…”

Her smile broadened in a way that reminded me of Tatsu, the way he would be pleased when I made a connection he was expecting would be beyond me, and I knew that she was well aware of this flaw in her “mirror image” theory.

“Yes,” she said, “that’s true. My people made the same point when we discussed the situation. Some of them wanted to send a team in to remove you.”

“Did you tell them they’d have to get in line?”

She laughed. “I told them I thought that kind of hostile action would be a mistake. I saw the way you assessed the room when you came into the casino. I see the way you subtly check your back all the time. Even this table, you chose it because it was in the corner. So you could sit with your back to the wall.”

“And you, too.”

“You knew I wouldn’t let you put my back to the stairs, especially after you chose the place. This was a compromise.”

“That’s true.”

“Anyway, you’ve got that weight about you, the feel of experience and competence, even though I think you’re adept at concealing it. I told my people that removing you wouldn’t be easy and would probably involve a mess. The kind of mess that could alert Belghazi that something was wrong. He has very keen instincts, as I think you know. I doubt that anyone has gotten as close to him as you did.”

“Only you.”

She smiled, and I saw the bedroom eyes again. “I have resources that you don’t.” She took a sip of caipirinha. “So I think my description of our positions as ‘mirror image’ is apt.”

“All right. What do you propose?”

She shrugged. “I told my people that moving against you would be a poor option, although we couldn’t rule it out if you insisted on behaving unreasonably. If you gave us no choice.”

I looked at her, letting her see some coldness again. “I doubt that your people were able to get you any background on me,” I told her, “but if they had, they would have told you that I react poorly to threats. Even irrationally.”

“I’m not threatening you.”

“Convince me of that.”

“Look, you know what we want from Belghazi. And we know what you want. Stand down for a few days. Let me get what I need. When I have it, I can get you access.”

“I already have access.”

She shook her head. “That was one in a million. You or someone else must have put something in what he was eating or drinking. If that happens to him again, he’s going to know something is wrong. He’ll react accordingly, stiffen his defenses. And he moves around a lot. You tracked him here, all right, but are you sure you could track his next move?”

She sipped again. “But if you work with me, you have someone on the inside. Once we have what we need, we don’t care what happens to him.”

I thought for a moment. There was something obvious here, something she was avoiding. I decided to test it.

“I’ve got a better idea,” I said. “Help me get close, and I’ll do what I’m here to do. You can take his computer when I’m done.”

She shook her head. “That won’t work.”

“Why not?”

She shook her head again. “It just won’t. I can’t tell you why. We have to do it my way. Give me a little time, and then I’ll help you.”

It was what I thought. The information on Belghazi’s computer would lose its value if Belghazi died before Delilah accessed it.

I looked at her and said, “Even if I needed your help, and I don’t, why would I trust you? Once you’ve gotten what you wanted from the computer, you’d just walk away.”

She shrugged. “But that’s your worst case, isn’t it? You wait a few days and then I’m out of your way. Your best case, though, is that I stick around to help you. And I’ll tell you why you can believe me. Because it would be very much to our advantage if, after we acquire what we need from his computer, Belghazi were to expire naturally. As opposed to… violently.”