“And you bought it from the Agency?”
“From an Agency foundation, the same one that I bought my cousin Dick Stone’s house from. I think I’ve discovered that the foundation would rather have cash than real estate. My local attorney says it’s a bargain.”
“What’s upstairs?” Viv asked.
“A master suite and three bedrooms. There’s a garage and a staff flat on the other side.”
“I’ll buy the staff flat from you,” Dino said.
“Think of the place as your own, whenever you want it.”
Holly came in with hors d’oeuvres.
Viv bit into one. “This is delicious,” she said.
“Oh, it’s just a little something I whipped up,” Holly replied.
“The hell you say.”
“All right, everything’s from Fauchon.”
“What’s Fauchon?”
“A kind of heavenly grocery store that sells the groceries already cooked.”
“I like the sound of that,” Viv said.
“Okay, enough about groceries,” Dino said. “I want to know what’s been going on. Why were you in a safe house, Stone?”
Stone took a deep breath and gave Dino and Viv an account of his time.
“Well,” Dino said, when he had finished, “you’ve been having a lot more fun than I have. Has Jacques Chance been arrested?”
“As far as I know, no.”
“The guy’s a nutcase,” Dino said. “Somebody ought to throw a net over him.”
“I look forward to that happening,” Stone said.
“I’ve had a couple of long conversations with his old man, Michel.”
“What’s he like?”
“He’s a stiff, but he’s a smart one. Very old-school, but a cop all the way through.”
“Did he say anything about his son?”
“I was present when somebody brought up the subject. He just turned and walked away. Like I say, very old-school. Rumor around the conference was that Jacques is being searched for, but quietly. Apparently, removing the prefect of Paris police is complicated.”
They finished their drinks and moved to the dining table at one end of the room, where Holly had distributed Fauchon’s finest.
Stone tasted and poured the wine, and they sat down to dinner. Stone’s phone rang. “Hello?”
“It’s Lance.”
“Hang on.” He excused himself and took the phone into the study. “Okay,” he said.
“Your little insight turned out to be correct,” Lance said.
“What insight was that?”
“The Senate Select Committee on Intelligence—a staffer who had formerly worked in Carson’s office.”
“How did you deal with that?”
“Had a chat with Henry Carson, who denied all knowledge, said the woman was acting out of her own enthusiasm for his candidacy, nothing to do with his campaign.”