Dirty Work

45

Sir Edward looked around himself. “I’m surrounded,” he said, lowering his head to be closer to the microphone behind his lapel.

It took Marie-Thérèse only a moment to locate it and pull it free. “Sir Edward is quite safe,” she said into the microphone. “And I wish to point out that an attempt on me is very likely to hit either Lieutenant Bacchetti or Mr. Barrington. If that should happen, The New York Times will have the story before the ambulances arrive.” She picked up Sir Edward’s earpiece, which was resting on his shoulder, and put it into her own ear. “Did you read that loud and clear?” she asked.

Sir Edward removed his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and put the hat back on.

Carpenter, in the helicopter, looked at Mason, who shook his head. “No shot,” he said. “And we don’t want to knock off one of the local constabulary, do we? Never mind your mate.”

“I read you loud and clear,” Carpenter said into her own microphone.

“Then kindly go and park that chopper over the East River,” Marie-Thérèse responded. “You’ll still be able to read our transmissions, but you don’t want to make me nervous by hovering, do you?”

Mason switched off his headset. “How soon can we have men in the park?”

“I estimate four minutes, if they run,” Carpenter replied.

“Looks like we’re stuck with the situation, doesn’t it?”

Carpenter switched on her headset again. “Pilot, head for the East River and hover there,” she said, so that La Biche could read her. She switched to her channel two. “Everybody converge on Bryant Park, behind the New York Public Library. Subject is seated next to Architect. Use extreme caution, and don’t fire unless certain of success without collateral damage.”

“Thank you so much,” Marie-Thérèse replied. She watched as the helicopter moved east, along Forty-second Street, then she leaned forward in her wheelchair so that she could see Stone. “Let’s get on with it,” she said. “We won’t have long before Sir Edward’s cavalry arrives.”

“Sir Edward,” Stone said, “did you bring the letter?”

Sir Edward reached into an inside pocket, produced an envelope, and handed it to Stone.

Stone read the letter and handed it to Marie-Thérèse. “It’s as advertised.”

She looked over the letter. “And the money?”

Sir Edward produced another envelope. “Here is a deposit receipt from Manhattan Trust. Call the number at the top of the page, use the code word ‘structure,’ and the bank will wire the funds to any account in the world. The transaction is irrevocable from my end.”

“I certainly hope so, for your sake, Sir Edward, because if there is any problem with the transfer, you will be in violation of our agreement.”

“I believe I’m due a signed document from you,” Sir Edward said.

Stone handed him a letter. He looked at it and put it into a pocket. “It is satisfactory,” he said.

“All right, let’s go,” Marie-Thérèse said. “Sir Edward, you will push my wheelchair.”

“What? I’m not going anywhere.”

“We’re all going into the library. It’s a lovely building, you’ll be impressed.”

“We’ll be done in a couple of minutes, Sir Edward,” Stone said. “Please don’t make a fuss.”

The four set off together, Sir Edward pushing the wheelchair, Stone and Dino walking on either side of Marie-Thérèse. They entered the library through a side door and took an elevator to the main floor.

“Stop here,” Marie-Thérèse said. “Sir Edward, you will accompany these gentlemen to the main entrance of the library, then you will be free to go.” Grabbing the wheels, she maneuvered the wheelchair through a rest room door bearing a handicapped-use sign.

“Let’s go,” Stone said, indicating the way for Sir Edward.

Marie-Thérèse locked the door, shed some clothes, and produced others and a wig from her large handbag. A quick check in the mirror, and she left the rest room, abandoning the wheelchair and her other clothes. She returned to Bryant Park and headed toward Sixth Avenue. As she reached the sidewalk, half a dozen men ran past her as she hailed a cab.

Stone paused at the top of the library’s front steps. “That concludes our transaction, Sir Edward.”

“I should bloody well hope so,” Sir Edward replied.

“You couldn’t just play it straight, could you? So much for the word of an English gentleman.”

“Oh, go roger yourself,” Sir Edward said, sweat rolling down his face.

“You should get out of that body armor before you have a heart attack,” Dino said. “Let’s go, Stone.” He led the way down the front steps, and they got into Dino’s car, which was waiting at the curb. “Where to?”

“Home, I guess.” The car moved off.

“And where is Marie-Thérèse now?” Dino asked.

“I don’t know,” Stone said, “and I don’t want to know.”

Marie-Thérèse opened her cell phone and dialed the number on the bank receipt Sir Edward had given her.

“Wire transfer department,” a woman’s voice said.

Marie-Thérèse read off the account number from the sheet in her hand.

“What is your code?”

“Structure.”

“Accepted. What are your instructions?”

“Wire the full amount to the following number at Saint George’s Bank, Cayman Islands.” She recited an account number.

The woman repeated the number for confirmation. “The funds will be in your account tomorrow morning,” she said.

“Why not today?” Marie-Thérèse asked.

“Transfers must be made before two p.m., or they go out the following business day.”

“Make an exception,” Marie-Thérèse said.

“I’m afraid it’s a nationwide banking rule,” the woman replied. “Good day.” She hung up.

Marie-Thérèse dialed Stone’s cell phone number.

“Yes?”

“The bank won’t wire the funds until tomorrow morning.”

“That’s normal. Transfers have to be made by two p.m.”

“All right,” she said. “I’ll check with my bank in the morning, and if the funds are not there . . .”

“Please, don’t tell me,” Stone said.

“You’ll hear from me if the money isn’t there.”

“I’d rather not hear from you again, Marie-Thérèse.”

“What about your bill?”

“Consider my services pro bono,” Stone said. “Now please disappear, and have a happy life.”

“Check your coat pocket,” she said. “And thank you for your help, Stone.” She hung up.

Stone felt his pockets. There was something in one of them. He reached in and pulled out an envelope. Inside was a thick wad of one-hundred-dollar bills.

“Looks like about ten grand,” Dino said. “Don’t forget to report it on your tax return. And you’re buying dinner tonight.”