"You did it." He pushed back his chair. "You're a genius, Thomas."

"Genius should be rewarded." Thomas smiled slyly. "Don't you think I deserve a tip? Maybe another one of those pretty baubles?"

"Don't be greedy," Travis said absently, as he stared at the mug shot. "Can you get me a background and psychological profile?"

"The CIA probably has one. Give me thirty minutes."

It took forty-five minutes before he punched the button to print and then handed the two pages to Travis. "There you go."

"Thanks." He headed for the door.

Edward James Deschamps.

Gotcha.

4:15 P.M.

"Edward Deschamps." Galen lifted his gaze from the rap sheet. "You're sure?"

Travis nodded. "As certain as I can be without seeing him again."

"And you think he's the leader of the team at Vasaro?"

"It adds up. He knew me and indicated I'd gotten in his way sometime in the past. He was familiar to me, but I didn't recognize the face. I must have remembered the way he moved."

"I was outside in the courtyard, so I didn't see him. How did he move?"

"Fairly distinctively. Fast, springy, on the balls of his feet, like a tennis player."

"Karlstadt had nothing to do with Jan's murder?"

Travis shook his head. "It's not likely. Vasaro happened before I became involved with Karlstadt and the diamonds. Besides, Deschamps went for the money first and not for the diamonds. The diamonds were Karlstadt's first priority."

"Then you now have the Russians, Deschamps, and Karlstadt after you?"

"You've forgotten the CIA and the Secret Service," Melissa said from the corner, where she was curled up in a chair. "I find that very encouraging. With those odds, someone is bound to catch up with you."

"You can hope," Travis said. "But maybe if you tell your sister Deschamps is back on the scene, she might change her mind about the Wind Dancer. She mig ht not think the risk is worth it."

"I'll tell her." She rose to her feet. "But she won't change her mind, not unless there's a direct danger to Cassie."

"You're resigned at last?"

"Hell, no," she said fiercely. "I've accepted only the first step. That doesn't mean I won't fight every other step along the way."

" I'm sure you will. Then you intend to go with us?"

"You were hoping I wouldn't. Sorry. I wouldn't miss it."

Galen was frowning as he studied the mug shot. "I think I've run across him once. Somewhere in Portugal. Possible?"

"He didn't belong to a Portuguese group, but that doesn't mean he didn't operate there." Travis was reading the profile. "He's a U.S. citizen, but he's bounced around all over Europe. He's something of a gourmet. Snazzy dresser…has his suits tailored in Rome." He skipped over a few lines. "His mother divorced his father and brought Edward to Paris when he was six. She married Jean Detoile, the owner of an art gallery. Detoile had money and put the kid in a private boarding school. Excellent grades at first, very high IQ. Then, when he was twelve, his stepfather accused him of theft and turned him in to the police. He was in jail for two years."

He scanned the rest of the page. "When he came out, he worked the streets-drugs, con games, theft. Evidently, that didn't pay enough, because he turned hit man by the time he was twenty. He became an expert with surveillance equipment." He glanced up. "That would correspond with what Jan told me about the bugs in his apartment." His gaze shifted back to the report. "Then he graduated to terrorism. Worked with a number of groups and then formed his own. It didn't last long. He was essentially a loner and his team drifted away."

"What about his parents?"

"His mother died when he was in prison. His stepfather was murdered four years after Deschamps was released."

"By Deschamps?"

"Probably. It was never proven. Not one trace of evidence was found. But it was an extremely gory death." He paused. "It's interesting that he didn't kill his stepfather immediately upon his release. He waited and learned and then he moved. Cold-blooded son of a bitch."

"But evidently very bright"

" Not so bright. The only reason he had for killing Jan was to hurt me." He added softly, "That mistake is going to cost him."

"And you'll enjoy it," Melissa said.

"No doubt about it. Would you like to hear some more about Deschamps? I believe you'd think even I come out pretty good in comparison."

She headed for the bedroom. "It would take a mass murderer to make you look good to me."

Travis turned to Galen as the door closed behind her. "Do you have enough info here to find him?"

"If there was enough info here, the CIA or Interpol would have gotten him a long time ago." He took the report from Travis and scanned it. "He was picked up three times in Paris at different periods in his career. He obviously likes it here. It's a place to start. I'll put some feelers out right away. But don't hold your breath."

12:35 A.M.

"It's almost time to go, baby," Jessica whispered. She wrapped the light blanket around Cassie. "It's going to be exciting. You're going to see an old friend." She turned to Melissa. "Travis said we're leaving Paris right after we go to the museum. He wants everything in the van. Will you make sure I've cleaned everything out of the bathroom while I get us a cup of coffee?" She grimaced. "Though I don't know why I should feel the need for a jolt of caffeine when I'm so nervous."

Melissa shook her head. "You're never nervous."

"I am tonight." Jessica went into the living room, where Travis and Galen waited. "Almost time?"

Travis nodded. "How's the little girl?"

"Awake."

"Keep her that way. Otherwise it's going to be a very expensive nap. Where's Melissa?"

"Packing up." She walked to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. "Where are we going from here?"

"If this works with Cassie, I'll settle you and Melissa somewhere safe and let you negotiate terms with Andreas."

"Where is somewhere safe?"

"How do you like the Riviera?" Galen asked.

"I don't know. I've never been. But it doesn't sound like a place to hide."

"Which is usually the best place."

"We have to be on borrowed time anyway. I don't know why Andreas hasn't caught up with us yet."

"We've moved fast, and we've had Galen."

"And what about terms for you?"

Travis shook his head. "Andreas won't be inclined to make any deals with me."

"All done." Melissa came out of the bedroom, carrying the duffels. "Let's go and get it over with."

Poor Mellie. She was so pale and tense that Jessica's heart ached for her.

"I'll bring the van around to the back and make sure there's no one around." Galen moved toward the door." If I don't phone you, bring Cassie down in five minutes."

Jessica handed Melissa the cup of coffee. "Drink it. You look like hell."

"I don't need it."

"Drink it, Mellie."

Melissa smiled faintly. "Yes, ma'am." She took a few swallows and handed the cup back to her. "Satisfied, Saint Jessica?"

"Yes." She turned to Travis. "How do we get Cassie into the museum without being seen? Carrying her around is sure to attract attention."

"We park the van in the alley and go in through the back entrance. Galen says the artifacts room is right down the hall."

"The guards?"

"Two, and they've been bribed. One at the back entrance and one at the door of the artifacts room. Inside the room is a door leading downstairs to a storage area in the basement. Galen is stationing one of his own men at that door just in case."

"Christ, I hope everything goes smoothly."

"Jessica…"

Jessica turned to Melissa. Her sister's eyes were glazed and she took a staggering step forward. "Jessica…"