JORAM JUMPED OUT of his chair. “Sir!”
Fahd looked up from this desk. He was clearly annoyed. “Yes?”
“Stone Barrington’s not going to his home.”
“What?”
“He’s not going to the address I gave you. He just made a reservation at l’Arrington Hotel.”
“What!”
“Yes, sir.”
“He’s staying at the l’Arrington?”
Joram didn’t point out that Fahd’s use of the word the was redundant. The French l’, meaning the, took care of it. “Yes, sir. The reservation just appeared, for a party of three.”
“Damn!”
“Sir?”
“Why is he staying at the l’Arrington? He has a perfectly good house.”
“He also owns the hotel, sir.”
“Oh?”
“Half of it, anyway. A Frenchman named Marcel DuBois is the co-owner.”
“He’s going to stay there the whole time he’s in Paris?”
“That’s hard to say, sir.”
“Well, how long is his reservation for?”
“Just for one night.”
Fahd gave him the evil eye. “You could have said that to begin with.” Fahd snatched up the phone and called Glenville back. “He’s going to the l’Arrington.”
“Sir?”
“The l’Arrington Hotel. Pick him up there.”
“He’s not going to his house?”
“Not today. He’s checking in at the hotel.”
“Do you have any idea when?”
“No, but you’ll know it when it happens. Stone Barrington owns half the hotel. His reservation includes Dino Bacchetti and Billy Barnett. I assume you have located a photo of Barnett?”
“Of course.”
“He may look different. Our man in New York never spotted him. Do you have photos of Stone Barrington and Dino Bacchetti?”
“Yes.”
“He’ll be with them.”
“LET ME OUT here,” Teddy said.
The car service was en route from the airport to the hotel.
“You’re not going to the hotel?” Stone said.
“If you wouldn’t mind checking in for me, I have an errand to run.”
Dino snorted. “Well, that could cover any act in the penal code.”
“Will you be back in time for dinner?” Stone said.
“Oh, yes. It shouldn’t take long.”
Teddy hopped out at the corner and strolled down the street. It was a ten-minute walk to a small antique shop that featured jewelry and knickknacks. The owner was a diminutive Frenchman with a graying mustache.
Teddy stepped inside and flipped Felix Dressler’s new CIA credentials open on the counter.
The owner took a look and cocked his head. “Who are you?”
Teddy pointed to the credentials.
The owner made a face. “Please. Do you expect me to be impressed by an amateurish set of phony credentials?”
Teddy smiled. “That’s hurtful, Andre.”
Andre frowned. “Do I know you?”
Teddy smiled. “Under another name.”
“What name?”
“Any name you like.”
Andre blinked. “Teddy?”
Teddy put up his hand. “Whoa, whoa. I don’t know this man of whom you speak. But let’s assume an acquaintance and take it from there. Can you do the work?”
“You want more CIA credentials?”
“Passports, actually. Six of them, in six different names. All with this photo.” Teddy laid the six passport photos on the counter. “Can that be done?”
Andre squinted at him shrewdly. “If the price is right.”
“Name it.”
After a short negotiation, Teddy and Andre agreed on a price.
“When do you need these?”
“First thing tomorrow morning.”
“A rush order. You didn’t say that.”
“You can’t do it?”
“It will affect the price.”
After another round of bargaining, they were agreed.