sure of that, too. Is it too early for us to get out of here?”
“Nothing could please me more.”
“We’ll see about that,” Holly said.
Half an hour later Holly’s clothes were hung in his closet at l’Arrington, and she was demonstrating her superiority to the ambassador. Stone responded in kind, and so it went for the better part of an hour.
—
THEY AWOKE in each other’s arms and reengaged for half an hour before breakfast arrived. Holly ran for a robe before Stone opened the door to admit the room service waiter.
Shortly, they were sitting up in bed with eggs Benedict in their laps.
“So,” Stone said, “what got you to this side of the pond?”
“Well, Lance has been pestering me to take some time off.”
“Tell me, how many days have you not worked since he made you New York station chief?”
“Let’s see…”
“Not a one, correct?”
“I am ashamed to say you are correct. So finally, Lance ordered me to Paris to cover your ass.”
“What a wonderful human being Lance is!”
“Isn’t he? Well, maybe not. I think he just thought I’d work better if I got laid now and then.”
“He’s a smart human being, too.”
“I know I must be interrupting a liaison of some sort,” she said. “Is there someone under the bed?”
“No, there is not. However…”
“I thought so! Who is she?”
“Well, I had no idea you were going to turn up, or I would have been, in Tallulah Bankhead’s memorable words, ‘as pure as the driven slush.’”
“Perfectly put, in your case. Now, who is she?”
“She’s the daughter of the prefect of police and the sister of another highly placed Paris police commander.”
“So, you’re under constant surveillance?”
“Perhaps so. I haven’t found any bugs in the suite, though.”
“Shall we look for them?”
“No, let’s entertain the listeners.”
“I don’t really mind your philandering, Stone—even when it’s not with me. We are of similar natures.”
“I know that, and somehow, it always makes our reunions important to me.”
“And to me, too. It reminds me of how crazy I am to work so much, but I was so happy to get the job that I thought I should do it well. Unfortunately, doing it well is, all too often, a 24/7 job. Now tell me about these attempts on your carcass.”
Stone told her about the roasted van and the shotgun incident of the night before.
“I’m impressed that she had the fortitude to fire when the time came.”
“The lady is not lacking in fortitude,” Stone said, “but I was impressed, too. I would have liked an opportunity to speak with the other shooter, though.”
“So they know absolutely nothing about him?”
“Nothing, except what I told you.”
Holly got out of bed, went to her luggage, and came back with a laptop computer. “Let’s try something,” she said, logging on to the CIA mainframe and opening the facial recognition program. “Let’s see. Age, thirties. Height, six feet. Weight, one-eighty. Is that right?”
“Right.”
“Did he speak at all?”
“He never had the chance.”
“Hair color?”
“Light brown, I suppose. He had a rather severe flattop haircut.”
“What was he packing?”
“The Beretta 9mm that’s the standard army sidearm.”
“Lots of those around. You said that he went for the gun with his right hand, but his wristwatch was on his right wrist?”
“Right. I thought that was odd.”
“Let’s type in ‘ambidextrous,’” Holly said, and did so. “Any apparent skills?”
“Burglary and car theft,” Stone said.
“There was no fight?”
“Not that I saw. Apparently, she heard something downstairs and went down there with her grandfather’s shotgun. I got there just in time to see it used.”
Holly clicked on “search” and waited. She did not have to wait long. “Is that the guy?” she asked, turning the screen toward him.
Stone stared into a familiar face. “Holy shit, it is! How’d you do that?”
“The ambidexterity did
“Nothing could please me more.”
“We’ll see about that,” Holly said.
Half an hour later Holly’s clothes were hung in his closet at l’Arrington, and she was demonstrating her superiority to the ambassador. Stone responded in kind, and so it went for the better part of an hour.
—
THEY AWOKE in each other’s arms and reengaged for half an hour before breakfast arrived. Holly ran for a robe before Stone opened the door to admit the room service waiter.
Shortly, they were sitting up in bed with eggs Benedict in their laps.
“So,” Stone said, “what got you to this side of the pond?”
“Well, Lance has been pestering me to take some time off.”
“Tell me, how many days have you not worked since he made you New York station chief?”
“Let’s see…”
“Not a one, correct?”
“I am ashamed to say you are correct. So finally, Lance ordered me to Paris to cover your ass.”
“What a wonderful human being Lance is!”
“Isn’t he? Well, maybe not. I think he just thought I’d work better if I got laid now and then.”
“He’s a smart human being, too.”
“I know I must be interrupting a liaison of some sort,” she said. “Is there someone under the bed?”
“No, there is not. However…”
“I thought so! Who is she?”
“Well, I had no idea you were going to turn up, or I would have been, in Tallulah Bankhead’s memorable words, ‘as pure as the driven slush.’”
“Perfectly put, in your case. Now, who is she?”
“She’s the daughter of the prefect of police and the sister of another highly placed Paris police commander.”
“So, you’re under constant surveillance?”
“Perhaps so. I haven’t found any bugs in the suite, though.”
“Shall we look for them?”
“No, let’s entertain the listeners.”
“I don’t really mind your philandering, Stone—even when it’s not with me. We are of similar natures.”
“I know that, and somehow, it always makes our reunions important to me.”
“And to me, too. It reminds me of how crazy I am to work so much, but I was so happy to get the job that I thought I should do it well. Unfortunately, doing it well is, all too often, a 24/7 job. Now tell me about these attempts on your carcass.”
Stone told her about the roasted van and the shotgun incident of the night before.
“I’m impressed that she had the fortitude to fire when the time came.”
“The lady is not lacking in fortitude,” Stone said, “but I was impressed, too. I would have liked an opportunity to speak with the other shooter, though.”
“So they know absolutely nothing about him?”
“Nothing, except what I told you.”
Holly got out of bed, went to her luggage, and came back with a laptop computer. “Let’s try something,” she said, logging on to the CIA mainframe and opening the facial recognition program. “Let’s see. Age, thirties. Height, six feet. Weight, one-eighty. Is that right?”
“Right.”
“Did he speak at all?”
“He never had the chance.”
“Hair color?”
“Light brown, I suppose. He had a rather severe flattop haircut.”
“What was he packing?”
“The Beretta 9mm that’s the standard army sidearm.”
“Lots of those around. You said that he went for the gun with his right hand, but his wristwatch was on his right wrist?”
“Right. I thought that was odd.”
“Let’s type in ‘ambidextrous,’” Holly said, and did so. “Any apparent skills?”
“Burglary and car theft,” Stone said.
“There was no fight?”
“Not that I saw. Apparently, she heard something downstairs and went down there with her grandfather’s shotgun. I got there just in time to see it used.”
Holly clicked on “search” and waited. She did not have to wait long. “Is that the guy?” she asked, turning the screen toward him.
Stone stared into a familiar face. “Holy shit, it is! How’d you do that?”
“The ambidexterity did
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