“Good luck.”

“Thank you. Goodbye.” She hung up.

Stone was back at home in Turtle Bay by late afternoon, New York time.

Holly greeted him warmly. “That was quick,” she said. “What was it about?”

“I have a feeling I’m not supposed to tell you,” he said. “You want to go to Elaine’s for dinner?”

“Dino called and suggested we meet there; so did Lance. I said yes to both of them.”

LANCE’S CADILLAC WITH the diplomatic plates was double-parked outside Elaine’s, and the man with the briefcase with a hole in it was back in his old spot by the awning. Lance got out of the car almost as soon as Stone and Holly got out of the cab. They all shook hands, and, as they entered the restaurant, Lance whispered something to Holly.

Before they could sit down at their table, Holly said, “Excuse me, I have to go to the powder room.”

Stone and Lance sat down. “Did you send her to the powder room?” Stone asked.

“Yes. How’d it go in London this morning?”

“You mean you don’t already know?”

“I’d like to hear it from you.”

“I lied for her. You knew I would, didn’t you?”

“You might recall that not only did I not ask you to lie, I didn’t even tell you why you were going. Should anyone in an official position ever inquire about the hearing, you might remember to mention that.”

“Is anyone in an official position likely to inquire?”

“In the words of the immortal Fats Waller, ‘One never knows, do one?’ ”

“Will she get the job?”

“There will have to be a cabinet meeting on the subject, but I’m reliably informed that she is being favorably considered. Your testimony this morning was the final piece of evidence taken. She will be the first woman to hold the job, but her credentials are as top-notch as those of any man they could have considered, including the fact that both her father and grandfather were in the service, going back to the Second World War.”

“She mentioned that once.”

“The father mostly fought his battles with the IRA. It was the grandfather who was the swashbuckler. Did she tell you about him?”

“Not much.”

“He spent half his childhood in France-his father was a diplomat assigned to the Paris embassy-so he had the language. He was parachuted in not long after France fell, with instructions to organize and arm resistance units. He was captured twice by the Gestapo, with all that that entailed, and escaped twice. On both occasions he killed several of his captors with his hands. On D-Day, units he organized blew up roads and railways that the Germans could have used to bring in reinforcements and armor. I met him once; he was the perfect English gentleman: erudite, courteous to a fault, and, it was said, the most cold-blooded killer anybody could remember from the war.”

“I guess that’s where Carpenter gets it,” Stone said.

“She won’t be Carpenter anymore; she’ll be Architect, if all goes well, and it should. I’d like you to make it your business to keep in as close touch with her as you can manage. Consider it an assignment.”

“At my contract daily rate?”

“I won’t be charged for phone calls; you’re not being used as a lawyer. But I’ll consider dinner with her a day’s work. Anything beyond that you can think of as a bonus.”

Holly came back from the ladies’ room. “Was I gone long enough?” she asked Lance.

“Quite,” Lance said, offering her a wide grin. “Stone has been debriefed.”

“So happy to have been of service,” she said. “By the way, when will I actually be of service?”

“Be patient,” Lance said. “Your time will come.”

“Is patience the most important attribute of an agent?” Holly asked.

“No. Suspicion is. One must doubt everybody.”

“That sounds like a corrosive way to live.”

“If you say so.”

They were ordering drinks when Dino arrived, looking tired. He sat down and loosened his tie. “A double Johnnie Walker Black,” he said to the waiter.

“What’s happened?” Stone asked.

“A cop got killed today, in Little Italy.”

Holly spoke up. “Not at the La Boheme coffeehouse, I hope?”

“No, but not far away.”

“Somebody undercover?” Stone asked.

“Nope, a beat patrolman. He’d parked his squad car and was ordering coffee at a deli, when somebody walked in and put one in the back of his head. An assassination, pure and simple.”

“Of a beat cop?” Stone asked. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“No, it doesn’t. We’re looking at, maybe, a gang initiation, or maybe just somebody who hates cops.”

“How are you involved with something so far downtown?” Stone asked.

“I’m not, really. I was at a meeting with the chief of detectives when the call came in, so we both went to the scene. I loaned them a couple of detectives. How was London?”

“Quick. In and out.”

“Did you see Carpenter?”

“I spoke to her, briefly.”

“What were you doing there?”

“You’ll have to ask Lance.”

Dino looked at Lance.

“None of your business,” Lance said. “Why don’t we order dinner?”

Holly spoke up. “Did you get a description of the shooter?”

“White male, six feet, maybe more; well built. Black ponytail.”

“It’s Trini Rodriguez,” she said.

“Why the hell would your perp kill a New York City cop?” Dino asked.

“For the fun of it,” she replied.

“Excuse me.” Dino got up and walked away, his cell phone clamped to his ear.

Stone looked at Holly. “Your chances of nailing Trini have just gone up,” he said.

“No,” she replied, “Dino’s chances have. I’ll never take him home now.”

STONE WAS HAVING breakfast the following morning when Holly and Daisy returned from the park.

“I had a call on my cell phone this morning,” she said. “My FBI ex-friend, Grant Harrison, is in town, and he wants to see me; says it’s business.”

“So, see him,” Stone said. “You want to ask him over here?”

“I said I’d meet him for lunch, but I didn’t know a good place.”

“Tell him La Goulue, Madison at Sixty-fifth. I’ll book a table for you.”

“Will you come along?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I’m just not comfortable with this. He’s less likely to shout at me if you’re along.”

“Oh, all right.”

Grant Early Harrison was standing in front of La Goulue when their cab stopped.

“That’s him,” Holly said, pointing.

He was better-looking than Stone had imagined.

They got out of the cab and approached him.

“Hello, Grant,” Holly said, “this is my friend Stone Barrington.”

Grant managed a perfunctory handshake. “I thought I was seeing you alone.”

“Why did you think that?” Holly asked. “Anyway, anything you have to say, you can say in front of Stone. He’s also my lawyer.”

Grant cut Stone a sharp glance. “Do you need a lawyer?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Holly said.

Stone kept a straight face. “Shall we go in?”

They were greeted by Suzanne, and Stone gave her a kiss. “Something in the back, I think,” he said.

“Right this way.” She led them to a table.

“Does this place get crowded?” Grant asked.

“It’ll be jammed in fifteen minutes,” Stone replied.

They ordered a glass of wine and looked at menus. When they had ordered lunch, Grant started in. “I got a call from our New York office last night,” he said. “The NYPD is all over them about Trini Rodriguez. What did you have to do with that?”

“Last night, Trini apparently shot a New York City cop, in a deli in Little Italy,” she said. “I had nothing at all to do with that.”

“Why do they think it was Trini?” Grant asked.

“Oh, I had something to do with that. The perp’s description matched Trini’s, and I mentioned that to an NYPD detective.”