“That’s good to know.”

“What are your dinner plans?”

“We haven’t made any.”

“I don’t want you to get cabin fever. There’s a nice place directly across the street from you, with a name something like Italian for white cat. Try that.”

“Okay.”

“Somebody will have eyes on you all the time, and if we spot anybody, we’ll handle it. We’ll call you if any action on your part is needed. Don’t carry the gun—somebody might spot it, and we don’t want to cause a fuss.”

“As you wish.”

“I’d go to dinner no later than seven,” Hal said. “That will guarantee you a table, and the place will be crowded later.”

Hal let himself out of the apartment, and Stone locked the door behind him.

“How about that drink now?” Hedy asked.

“What are my choices?”

“Is Knob Creek okay?”

“Where on earth did you get that?”

“I found it in a shop down the street, amazingly enough. They had two bottles, and I bought both of them.” She poured them each a drink.

“I didn’t know you were a bourbon drinker,” he said.

“I’m a Georgia girl, little town called Delano. We didn’t even have a liquor store, but we managed.”

“How did Arthur Steele become your stepfather?”

“My mother moved to New York when I was in college, and she got a job at an insurance agency. She met Arthur there, when he came to see her boss. Next thing I knew, she was married to him and living on Fifth Avenue. They invited me up for Thanksgiving, and that was the first time I met him.”

“Was it love at first sight for the two of you?”

“No, but we got along. He was nice enough to give me a trust fund, the income from which has allowed me to be a painter. It took me ten years to start making a living from selling my work.”

“Arthur must have a soft spot for you.”

“He has a soft spot for my mother, and whatever it cost him, it was worth it not to have her worrying about whether I was starving. Arthur is a pragmatic man.”

—

At seven they walked across the street to the little restaurant, and it turned out to be very good.

“I guess I’m going to have to get used to having Italian food every night,” Hedy said.

“That’s no strain for me,” Stone said. “I love Italian food.” There were no spirits available, so he ordered a bottle of Amarone.

Stone’s phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Hal. The car we bugged is back in the neighborhood. Be prepared to leave cash on the table and leave, if necessary.”

“Okay.” Stone saw Ernie walk past a window near their table, and he shifted his chair to the other side, so as to face the street.

“Anything wrong?” Hedy asked.

“Not yet,” Stone said.

14

Ernie appeared in the restaurant window again. He was looking up the street and held up a hand as if to say, “Stop.”

Then he turned, looked directly at Stone, and beckoned.

Stone left cash on the table, took Hedy’s hand, and towed her to the door. Ernie walked up. “Just one second,” he said, looking up the street again. “When I say go, walk quickly across the street and under the arch.”

Stone waited patiently.

“What’s happening?” Hedy asked.

“I’ll tell you in a minute.”

“Go,” Ernie said.

Stone took Hedy’s hand and hurried her across the street and into the courtyard. When they were on the elevator, Hedy demanded information again.

“Ernie and Hal saw someone who made them uncomfortable,” Stone said. “They wanted us to cross the street without being seen.”

“Okay,” Hedy said. “Is this how we have to live our lives for the next three weeks?”

“You don’t have to. If you don’t want to go back to New York, I think it’s best if I move to a hotel for the duration, whatever that is. Or, if you like, we can go to Paris until things cool off here.”

“Why Paris?”

“Because I have a house there.”

“God, how many houses do you have?”

“It’s a weakness of mine—I like having houses in places I like.”

“But not Rome?”

“I haven’t spent much time here for a long time. In fact, until this trip, I had never spent much more than a long weekend here.”

He let them into the apartment and locked the door behind them.

“I thought you were just an attorney,” Hedy said, “but attorneys don’t make enough money to have houses all over the place.”

“Some attorneys do. I’m also an investor in two privately owned corporations that make money.”

“Is one of them the hotel business?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the other?”

“Strategic Services, who are providing our security.”

“All right, tell me where I would be safe.”

Stone thought about that. “Hawaii.”

“Why Hawaii?”

“It’s a long way from here, and it doesn’t have a Mafia that I’m aware of.”

“Am I safer in Hawaii than in Paris?”

“Paris is just as safe.”

“All right, let’s go to Paris—at least I can paint there.”

There was a rap on the Great Iron Door.

“Who is it?”

“Hal.”

Stone opened the door. “We’re going to need a ride to Ciampino Airport tomorrow morning, early, before the Mafia wakes up.”

“Okay,” Hal said. “I’ll have a car here. What time?”

“Eight o’clock should be okay.”

“Done. Everything okay here?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll have a look around.”

“Go ahead.”

Hal disappeared into the apartment; after a moment he came back and crooked a finger at Stone.

Stone followed him into the bedroom. The words Go Home! were written on the bedspread in what looked a lot like blood.

Stone whipped the bedspread off the bed, so that Hedy wouldn’t see it. “Make it seven AM for the car,” he said.

—

While they were having a very early breakfast the following morning, Stone called Pat Frank’s office in New York.

“I’d like the airplane out of the hangar, full tanks, file for Le Bourget at eight AM,” he said to the person on duty.

“Roger wilco,” the young woman said. “Your flight plan will be waiting for you at Sky Services. Do you require catering?”

“No, thanks. Just ask them to be sure the airplane has been topped off with fuel. They were supposed to do it on arrival, but be sure.”

“Certainly. We recommend Landmark Aviation at Le Bourget. Would you like hangarage there?”

“Yes, and fueling on arrival.”

“And a car and driver into Paris?”

“Yes, please.”

“Please let us know if we can be of further help.”

“I’ll do that.” Stone hung up and turned to Hedy. “If you like, you can leave your painting equipment here, and I’ll buy you replacements in Paris.”

“Good idea. I won’t have to pack everything.”

—

They beat the rush hour traffic out of Rome and were at the airport in half an hour. Stone’s Citation CJ3+ awaited on the ramp. Hal loaded their luggage while Stone did the preflight inspection.

“You have a choice of seating,” Stone said to Hedy. “In the copilot’s seat or in the cabin.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you flew yourself?”

“Nope.”

“I’ll take the copilot’s seat,” she said.

“Do you want me to have you met at the other end?” Hal asked.

“I don’t think so, we’re not quite so hot in Paris.”

He got Hedy seated and buckled in, then closed the door and began running through his checklist. He started the engines, then entered the flight plan into the computer and checked the weather report. Shortly they were at the end of the runway and cleared for takeoff.

“Here we go,” Stone said to Hedy.

“What should I hold on to?”

“It’s just like the airlines, relax.” He pushed the throttles forward and the airplane accelerated quickly. He rotated, then raised the landing gear and the flaps and switched on the autopilot.