"Don't you?"

"All right, send him over. Goodbye." Stone hung up, got out of the bed and showered and shaved. His ears burned the whole time. He was in the middle of breakfast when the doorbell rang.

Stone picked up the phone. "Yes?"

"Our mutual friend sent me."

"I'm in the kitchen; ground floor, rear." Stone buzzed the door open.

A moment later a young man appeared. Jeans, T-shirt, leather jacket, longish ratty hair, stubble. A fashion plate, by current standards. "I'm Sandy," he said. "Where's the room you slept in last night?"

Stone pointed to the spiral back staircase. "Second floor, rear."

Sandy disappeared up the stairs.

Stone finished his breakfast and put his dishes into the dishwasher. He began reading the Times and was on the editorial page when Sandy came downstairs.

The young man walked over to the kitchen table and tossed four small devices onto it, each about the size of a walnut. "I hope you smiled; you were on Candid Camera."

"Those are cameras?" Stone asked disbelievingly, picking one up.

"The latest thing-color, sound, high resolution, wireless and almost invisible. When you came home last night, was there a van parked outside?"

"I've no idea."

"Had to be," Sandy said. "The range on these things isn't all that great. Whoever did this is well equipped."

"I guess so."

"I'm going to go over the rest of the house, now," Sandy said. "Where should I start?"

"My office," Stone said, pointing. "I'll tell my secretary you're coming." He picked up the phone and spoke to Joan.

Stone was finishing the crossword puzzle when the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Are you near a computer, Lance?"

"Yes." There was a laptop on the kitchen counter.

"Go to the Justice Department Web site." Lance gave him the address, then hung up.

Stone put down the crossword and went to the laptop, which had a wireless Internet connection. He typed in the address and waited a few seconds for the front page of the Justice Department Web site to appear. It did not appear. What came up was a fairly good, color photograph of the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York, her back arched, her teeth bared, her hair down. Naked. Sitting on a body that Stone knew to be his own. What was more, it moved, and her voice could be heard, making an animal sound. It was on a loop, repeating about every ten seconds.

Though stunned, Stone managed to feel grateful that the face on the body underneath her was out of frame.

STONE TOOK A FEW deep breaths and tried to think. Better she should hear it from him, he thought. He dialed Tiff's direct office line.

"Tiffany Baldwin."

"It's Stone."

"Now, don't start with me about the number, Stone."

"That's not why I called, but since you mention it, couldn't you have at least left it on the caller ID list?"

"Certainly not; that would give the CIA an advantage."

"They're supposed to have an advantage, because the call came to me, and I am their consultant."

"Irrelevant."

"Don't talk to me like a judge."

"If that's your attitude, I'm not going to talk to you at all. Good…"

"Hold it. There's something you need to know."

"What? And be quick about it; I've got a hellish morning ahead of me."

"You have no idea. Go to the Internet and to the Justice Department Web site. Right now."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

"Hang on." She set the phone down, and he could hear the clicking of keys. There was a brief pause, then an angry, wounded-animal shriek, as if she might have taken an arrow in the chest.

"Tiff?" Stone said. All he heard was a long silence.

Finally, she picked up the phone, and her voice was cold and calm. "That is not me! Do you understand? Why would you do a thing like that to me?"

"I didn't do it, Billy Bob did. This morning a technician found four tiny video cameras in my bedroom."

"How do you know it was Billy Bob?"

"Because, last night, on the phone, he told me he knew that you and I were in bed together. He just didn't tell me how he knew. I thought he had guessed."

"I say again: That is not me. Do you understand?"

"If that's your story, okay."

"It's your story, too. Got that?"

"Okay."

"I will deny this to my dying day, and you'd better, too."

"Okay, I understand."

"Until your dying day, which will be sooner than you think, if you utter so much as a word implicating me."

"Tiff, there's no need to threaten me; I'm with you on this."

"If I hear a word; if I read a snippet; if a rumor starts, I will unleash the full force of federal law enforcement upon your person."

"Tiff, I told you not to threaten me. I understand, and I will support your denial."

"Threat? You think that's a threat? I haven't even begun."

"Goodbye, Tiff."

"Goodbye, indeed." She hung up.

Stone hung up and dabbed at the mist of sweat that had formed on his brow. Then he noticed that Sandy was standing there.

"They're hell, aren't they?" the tech said.

"What?"

"Women. They're from hell."

Stone sighed. "Sometimes."

"This guy really did a number on you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there are two devices in your office, and your phones were bugged. Kind of redundant."

Stone sagged. "Swell."

"Don't worry, I've removed everything, and I've installed some equipment that will let us know if anyone tries anything like that again. Say, how did this guy get access to your office and bedroom?"

"He was a house guest for a few days. He had all the time in the world."

"You better get pickier about who you invite to stay."

"No kidding. Thanks for the advice."

"Anything else I can do for you?"

"I don't believe so. Thank you very much for your help."

"Glad to do it." Sandy turned to go.

"Hang on a minute," Stone said.

Sandy stopped. "Yeah?"

"You any good with computers?"

"They are my metier."

Stone turned the laptop around so he could see the screen. "This video has been placed on the Justice Department's Web site. Can you do anything about getting it off?"

Sandy peered at the screen. "Wow," he said. "Who is that?"

"I have no idea; can you get it off?"

Sandy watched the screen, a little smile on his face.

"Stop watching it!" Stone said. "Can you get it off their Web site?"

Sandy pointed at the screen. "Looks like that's being taken care of."

Stone turned the computer around again. A message had appeared on the screen, replacing Tiff's image: "This Web site is temporarily down for repairs. Please try again later."

"Thanks again for your help," Stone said. "Goodbye."

Sandy turned and left.

The phone rang, and Stone picked it up. "Hello?"

Dino's voice. "Man, have you seen the Justice Department Web site this morning?"

"Sure. I start my every day by checking out the Justice Department Web site."

"Well, if you haven't, you should, because your current girlfriend, the gorgeous Tiffany, is all over it, and you're underneath her."

"That is not Tiffany, and I am not underneath whoever that is."

"So you did check it out?"

"No, and I have no intention of doing so."

"And you deny that that's Tiffany and you?"

"Most emphatically."

"Well, maybe you can tell me why your mother's painting of Washington Square is on the wall, just over her shoulder."

"Nonsense."

"Not that anybody would ever notice it while Tiffany is on the screen."

"You are mistaken."

"Who would ever have thought that the fucking U.S. Attorney would…"

"It is not she."

"Did you take the video and put it on that Web site?"