was secretly laughing at her.
The three men were watching her, waiting for her answer. The boat was passing under the Pont Neuf, the oldest bridge in Paris, which the contrary French insisted on calling the New Bridge. Across the river, two lovers embraced on the edge of the embankment, and Tracy could see the blissful look on the face of the girl. She's a fool, Tracy thought. She made her decision. She looked straight into Jeff's eyes as she said, "All right. I'll go along with it," and she could feel the tension at the table dissipate.
"We don't have much time," Vauban was saying. His dead eyes turned to Tracy. "My brother works for a shipping agent, and he will let us load the soft container with you in it at his warehouse. I hope mademoiselle does not have claustrophobia."
"Don't worry about me.... How long will the trip take?"
"You will spend a few minutes in the loading area and one hour flying to Amsterdam."
"How large is the container?"
"Large enough for you to sit down. There will be other things in it to conceal you - just in case."
Nothing can go wrong, they had promised. But just in case....
"I have a list of the things you'll need," Jeff told her. "I've already arranged for them."
The smug bastard. He had been so sure she would say yes.
"Vauban, here, will see to it that your passport has the proper exit and entrance stamps, so you can leave Holland without any problem."
The boat began docking at its quay.
"We can go over the final plans in the morning," Ramon Vauban said. "Now I have to get back to work. Au revoir." he left.
Jeff asked, "Why don't we all have dinner together to celebrate?"
"I'm sorry," Gunther apologized, "but I have a previous engagement."
Jeff turned to Tracy. "Would - "
"No, thanks. I'm tired," she said quickly.
It was an excuse to avoid being with Jeff, but even as Tracy said it, she realized she really was exhausted. It was probably the strain of the excitement she had been going through for so long. She was feeling lightheaded. When this is over, she promised herself, I'm going back to London for a long rest. Her head was beginning to throb. I really must.
"I brought you a little present," Jeff told her. He handed her a gaily wrapped box. In it was an exquisite silk scarf with the initials TW stitched in one corner.
"Thank you." He can afford it, Tracy thought angrily. He bought it with my half million dollars.
"Sure you won't change your mind about dinner?"
"I'm positive."
In Paris, Tracy stayed at the classic Plaza Ath泄n泄e, in a lovely old suite that overlooked the garden restaurant. There was an elegant restaurant inside the hotel, with soft piano music, but on this evening Tracy was too tired to change into a more formal dress. She went into the Relais, the hotel's small caf泄, and ordered a bowl of soup. She pushed the plate away, half-finished, and left for her suite.
Daniel Cooper, seated at the other end of the room, noted the time.
Daniel Cooper had a problem. Upon his return to Paris, he had asked for a meeting with Inspector Trignant. The head of Interpol had been less than cordial. He had just spent an hour on the telephone listening to Commandant Ramiro's complaints about the American.
"He is loco!" the commandant had exploded. "I wasted men and money and time following this Tracy Whitney, who he insisted was going to rob the Prado, and she turned out to be a harmless tourist just as I said she was."
The conversation had led Inspector Trignant to believe that Daniel Cooper could have been wrong about Tracy in the first place. There was not one shred of evidence against the woman. The fact that she had been in various cities at the times the crimes were committed was not evidence.
And so, when Daniel Cooper had gone to see the inspector and said, "Tracy Whitney is in Paris. I would like her placed on twenty-four-hour surveillance," the inspector had replied, "Unless you can present me with some proof that this woman is planning to commit a specific crime, there is nothing I can do."
Cooper had fixed him with his blazing brown eyes and said, "You're a fool," and had found himself being unceremoniously ushered out of the office.
That was when Cooper had begun his one-man surveillance. He trailed Tracy everywhere: to shops and restaurants, through the streets of Paris. He went without sleep