Foreign Affairs

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

“It’s Dino. We’re booked on a late plane, and we should be at your house by ten tomorrow morning.”

“Then I’ll put sheets on the bed. See you then.” He hung up. “My friend Dino Bacchetti and his wife, Viv, are joining us for a few days. They’ll be here mid-morning tomorrow.”

“Oh, good. He’s the cop, right?”

“New York City’s top cop.”

“Then I’ll feel even safer. When’s di

“At seven.”

“Then I’m going to have a bath and change.” She kissed him again and went upstairs.

Stone went into the kitchen and asked Marie to get a guest room ready. She nodded, then went on cooking.

—

The following morning Stone was awakened by the doorbell, and a moment later Marie knocked on the door and entered. “Federal Express,” she said, handing him a package.

“It’s my new phone,” he said to Hedy, who was stirring.

“Why a new phone?”

“Because Casselli doesn’t have the number.”

They had breakfast in bed, then showered and went downstairs to greet their guests. At the stroke of ten, the gate bell rang, and Stone buzzed in the car carrying the Bacchettis. He embraced them both, then introduced them to Hedy, while the driver and Marie made their luggage disappear.

“Breakfast?” he asked them.

“We had it on the plane,” Dino said. “Just coffee, after we’ve cleaned up a little.”

—

They came down looking brighter, and Stone gave them his new phone number. “Put that in your phone,” he said to both of them.

“Why the new number?”

“Because Casselli has the old one, and I got tired of hanging up on him.”

They settled into the living room for coffee.

“I’ve done a little research on Casselli,” Dino said. “He has a record in New York going back to his teens, but about fifteen years ago he came over all respectable and started giving money to hospitals and museums.”

“Sounds like he was using Eduardo Bianchi as his model.”

“Maybe so. But he got his fingers caught in a wringer when one of his people started talking to the FBI. They put the guy in the Witness Protection Program and the U.S. attorney started putting together a RICO indictment for Casselli. He didn’t stick around for the service of the papers. He got on a plane to Rome, and he’s been there ever since. He has a house in Naples, too, and a place in Positano, where you met him.”

“How did the Italian Mob receive him?”

“Coldly, at first, but they warmed up after a couple of big dons suddenly disappeared, never to be heard from again, and pretty soon Casselli was in the driver’s seat. It took him a little less than a year. Since then, nobody has challenged him. Except Marcel, of course, and you.”

“It’s not like we want to take turf from him.”

“No, you’re already on his turf, and he expects to get his pound of flesh from anybody who treads there.”

“I don’t think I can spare a pound of flesh,” Stone said.

“That’s my boy, just keep a

“That’s encouraging.”

“I just want you to know what you’re up against. Casselli has a long memory, and he can be very patient. The downside is, he can be very impatient, too.”

“Maybe I should have Mike’s people get Marcel out of Rome and back to Paris.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

“By reminding him how close he came to losing everything to the Russians last year.”

“I don’t think Marcel is accustomed to feeling vulnerable,” Dino said. “Maybe you’re underestimating him.”

“I hope so,” Stone said.

17

It was nearly lunchtime when Stone’s new cell phone rang, and the caller ID number was blocked. “Hello?” he said cautiously, prepared to hang up again if it was Casselli.

“Stone, it’s Lance,” Lance Cabot said.

“Lance, how did you get this number?”

“And good day to you, too. Is there some reason I shouldn’t have this number?”

“Yes, I’ve had it for no more than a couple of hours, and I got it for the specific reason that—”

“Yes, yes, I know about all of that. Mr. Casselli was making a pest of himself.”

“Right, and if you can get the number, can’t Casselli?”

“I very much doubt it—after all, I’m the director of fucking Central Intelligence, and I can get anybody’s number. I don’t believe Leo Casselli can. Do you mind very much speaking to me?”

“Of course not, I’m just concerned that I was so easy to find.”

“Oh, all right, when I got an out-of-order recording on your old number, I called your secretary, Joan, and she gave me the new one. I don’t think she would give it to Casselli, so stop worrying.”

“All right, I won’t worry.”

“Actually, perhaps you should worry just a little, because Casselli called you yesterday and was co

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“That was long enough for him to get a fix on your general location, if he has the right equipment, and I’m sure he does, so you should assume he knows you’re in Paris.”

“Swell.”

“But, if you hung up immediately, he probably doesn’t have your street address.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“Don’t be relieved too quickly, he might have gotten it.”

“Oh?”

“But don’t worry, I’ve got a fix on Casselli’s phone, and he’s still in Rome.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Of course, he may be sending his minions to Paris as we speak.”

“I can’t win, can I?”

“Of course, if they don’t have your street address, they can’t find you, can they?”

“It’s always so reassuring to talk to you, Lance.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I suppose you’re wondering why I’m calling.”

“That crossed my mind.”

“Rick LaRose is going to come to see you.” Rick was the Paris station chief for the Central Intelligence Agency.

“It’s always a pleasure to see Rick.”

“Not this time. He’s going to ask you to do something you won’t want to do.”

“And what would that be?”

“I can’t talk about it on the phone. Rick will explain it all when you see him.”

“I can hardly wait.”

“Don’t be sarcastic, Stone, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Would you prefer irony?”

“That doesn’t suit you, either.”

“And what is Rick going to do for me, in return for my doing something for you that I won’t want to do?”

“He’s going to keep Casselli and his friends from capturing you and barbecuing you on a spit.”

“Is that what Casselli wants to do to me?”

“He did that to someone very recently—last week, I think.”

“You’re just trying to frighten me.”

“I am, because you should be frightened. Under Casselli’s thin veneer of respectability, he’s really a vile and barbaric creature. I wouldn’t put anything past him. I could tell you stories from our file on him that would turn your hair white.”

“Don’t, please.”

“If you’re nice to Rick, I won’t.”

“I’ll be as nice to him as I can be, under the circumstances.”

“I was looking for a more unqualified response.”

“That’s the best I can do—under the circumstances.”

“I suppose. I understand the new girl, Ms. Kiesler, is very nice.”

“You know about her, too?”

“Stone, we’ve known each other for a long time—when are you going to get used to the fact that I know everything about everybody?”

“Never.”

“Would you like me to tell you something about Ms. Kiesler that you don’t know?”

“Thank you, no. I’d prefer to hear it from her.”

“As you wish, but she may prefer to keep it from you.”