with small lapel radios.
Janine Courtland arrived first. She looked nervously about the exhibition room, squinting into the dimly lit areas. Finding no one, she walked aimlessly around the exhibits, at one point standing next to the bent-over "scholar" studying a sarcophagus inscription, then am-
M
bling over to a glass-encased display of ancient Egyptian gold.
Finally, AndrE-Louis, the Count of Strasbourgstrode through the main archway, resplendent in the most up-to-date gentleman's afternoon attire, completed by a blue silk paisley ascot. He spotted the ambassador's wife, studied the room slowly, cautiously, and, satisfied, approached her. The first Deuxi&me agent angled his camcorder, activated the voice beam, and started the all but-silent shooting mechanism. He listened as he watched through the lens, his left arm covering the instrument.
"You are entirely mistaken, Monsieur Andrii," began Janine Clunitz Courtland softly.
"I spoke quite casualty and convincingly to the embassy's head of security. He was shocked when I suggested that he had had me followed. "
"What else would he say?" asked Strasbourg coolly.
"I've lied too long and too often-all my life in fact not to know a liar. I told him I stopped at a shop and that one of the clerks came up to me and said my two or three escorts were waiting on the pavement for me, and should be ask them inside to get out of the noonday sun."
"A well-phrased story, madame, I grant you that," said the man called AndrE more warmly.
"You people are, indeed, superbly trained."
"You;// grant me? I'll grant myself, thank you. We've all spent our lives honing our skills for one purpose only. "
"Admirable," conceded Strasbourg.
"Did your embassy security suggest who your 'escorts' were?"
"I led him to the suggestion, naturally; that, too, is part of our training. I asked him if it was possible that the French had me followed. His answer was ingenuous and probably correct. He replied that should the Paris authorities spot the attractive well known wife of France's most powerful foreign ambassador shopping alone, they might easily order quiet protection."
"I imagine that;s logical, unless your chief of security is as well trained as you are."
"Rubbish! Now, you listen to me. My husband is arriving on the Concorde in a few hours, and we'll spend a day or two in a connubial reunion, but I still insist on going to
Germany to meet our superiors. I have a plan. According to the official records, I have a surviving great-aunt in Stuttgart, she's close to ninety and I'd like to see her before it's too late-"
"The scenario's perfect," interrupted Strasbourg, gesturing for Janine to follow him into the darkest shadows of the exhibition room: "The ambassador can hardly object, so here's what we'll do, and Bonn will certainly approve. "
Peering through the lens, the [email protected] officer angled the camcorder, following the couple into the dimly lit area in the corner.
Suddenly, he gasped, watching in horror as the count reached into his jacket pocket and slowly pulled out a syringe, the hypodermic needle encased in a plastic cover. With his other hand in shadows, Strasbourg removed the casing, baring the needle.
"Stop him!" the agent whispered harshly into his lapel radio.
"Interfere! My God, he's going to kill her. He's got a needle!"
"Monsieur le Comte!" cried the second Deuxi&me officer, breaking through the bodies and stunning both Strasbourg and the ambassador's wife.
"I couldn't believe my eyes, but it is you, sir! I was the small boy who used to play in your family's orchards years ago. How good it is to see you again! I'm an attorney in Paris now."
"Yes, yes, of course," said the frustrated, angry Strasbourg, dropping the syringe on the dark floor in the noise of the intrusion and crushing it under his foot.
"An attorney, how fortunate.. .. I'm sorry, this is an awkward time. I'll look you up." With those words, Louis, the Count of Strasbourg, rushed back through the small crowd and out of the exhibition room.
"I regret the intrusion, madame!" said the second Deuxieme man, his apologetic gaze conveying the impression that he had awkwardly humbled into a lovers' assignation.
"It's of no matter," stammered Janine Courtland, turning and walking rapidly away.
It was shortly past five o'clock when Latham and Karin de Vries returned for a second time from the [email protected] Bureau. They had been summoned by Moreau after the Louvre tapes, both video and audio, had been duplicated and prepared for scrutiny. Their escorts, Monsieur Frick and Monsieur Frack, were following in separate elevators, five minutes apart, to make certain no curious strangers in the lobby showed