Unintended Consequences

concerned for my safety and gave it to me. Earlier that day, an apparent attempt had been made on our lives. A large truck rammed our car about one hundred meters from here.”
    “Ah, yes,” Claire said, “I know of this event. Who else was in the car with you?”
    “I’m sure you already have their names,” Stone said. “Now, would you please tell me why you are calling on me at this ungodly hour?”
    The two detectives exchanged a glance.
    “We are investigating a homicide,” Claire replied.
    “A homicide where and who?” Stone asked.
    “In Ms. Becker’s suite,” Claire replied.
    Stone was startled. “Is Ms. Becker all right?” he asked.
    “She is quite safe, I assure you,” Claire said. “She is at the headquarters of the Prefecture of Police, helping us with our inquiries.”
    “Did she witness the homicide?” Stone asked.
    “As far as we know, she was the only person in her suite besides the deceased.”
    Stone didn’t like the sound of that. “And who died?”
    “Are you acquainted with a person who calls himself Aldo Saachi?”
    “Yes, I’ve met him.”
    “When, and under what circumstances?”
    “We were first introduced at a dinner party at the home of Marcel duBois, then I ran into him the evening before last at the Ulyanov Gallery, in Montmartre, at the opening of an art show. I also saw him at the party last evening at the Russian Embassy, though we did not speak. He seemed quite healthy at the time.”
    “You are friends, then?”
    “Certainly not. On the two occasions when we actually spoke, we exchanged only a few words.”
    “Are you aware of the true identity of this man, Saachi?”
    “I’ve heard rumors that he is an Albanian named Hoxha.”
    “Ah, yes, quite so. You seem to know a lot about this Saachi.”
    “Only what I’ve told you. I am an attorney, a lawyer. May I go to your headquarters and see Ms. Becker?”
    “Are you licensed to practice law in France?”
    “I am not.”
    “Then you may not see her. However, I think it would be a good idea if you got dressed and came with us.”
    “For what purpose?”
    “We wish to investigate your story and question you further.”
    Stone handed the detective his passport, reflecting that Lance Cabot had been prescient in giving it to him. “I’m sorry, but I must decline to accompany you. If you have any further questions of me, please ask them here and now, because the next time we speak I will be accompanied by my legal representative, who will, no doubt, advise me not to answer any questions.”
    Claire examined the passport with care. “Why do you have a diplomatic passport?”
    “Your question is not relevant to your reasons for visiting me,” Stone said.
    “Please, sir, I will determine what is relevant and what is not.”
    “No, I will make that determination for myself,” Stone said. “Now, if you have further questions, please ask them or leave.”
    Claire glanced at his colleague, who shook his head, then they both got to their feet. “We may wish to question you again,” Claire said, “so do not leave Paris.”
    Stone walked to the desk, got a business card from his briefcase, and handed it to Claire. “I will go where I wish, when I wish,” Stone said. “If I decide to leave Paris, you may contact me at my office in New York.” He walked to the door, opened it, and stood back. “Good night—or rather, good morning—gentlemen,” he said.
    The two men left, and Stone closed the door behind them.
    He found his iPhone and pressed the speed-dial number for Rick LaRose. It rang several times before it was answered.
    “Yes?”
    “Rick, it’s Stone Barrington.”
    “What time is it?”
    “Nearly four A.M .”
    “What’s going on?”
    “Aldo Saachi has been shot and killed in Helga Becker’s suite at the Plaza Athénée, and she is being held at the headquarters of the Prefecture of Police.”
    “
What?
”
    “You heard me the first time. It sounds as though Helga is their only suspect. They wouldn’t let me see her.”
    “Good God! It wasn’t supposed to happen that way!”
    Stone was speechless. By the time he had recovered enough to speak, Rick had hung up.

29
    S tone drifted awake. He looked at the clock on the desk: 10:20 A.M . and his bedroom seemed darker than usual at this hour. He was aware that he had had two dreams, and he remembered both of them with absolute clarity. He couldn’t remember ever having recalled a dream after waking. Then he realized that one of