One hour later Pavel entered the study and tossed a legal pad on the table in front of Alex.

"Here it is. The Wind Dancer is owned presently by Jonathan Andreas."

"Where is it?"

"At the Andreas compound in Port Andreas, South Carolina. Andreas is one of the wealthiest men in America and the compound is bristling with bodyguards and security people. The house has a state-of-the-art security system."

"So did the Louvre," Alex said dryly. "It didn't prevent thieves from stealing the 'Mona Lisa.' " He looked down at the notes on the yellow legal pad. "What's this about Vasaro?"

"Vasaro, the estate, is located near Grasse in France and raises flowers for the perfume industry. The family Vasaro is distantly related to the Andreases; it was the French cousins who convinced Jonathan Andreas's father to lend the Wind Dancer to the Louvre in 1939 to earn money to ransom eleven Jewish artists held hostage by the Germans. Five years ago, while she was attending the Sorbonne, a Caitlin Vasaro did a research paper on the significance of the Wind Dancer in history that was used as the cornerstone for a doctorate study by Andre Beaujolis."

"Do the Vasaros have any claim to the Wind Dancer?"

Pavel shook his head. "But the French government challenged the Andreas family in 1876 on the grounds that Marie Antoinette's gift wasn't legal under the revolutionary assembly. They lost the suit." He paused. "You think the Wind Dancer is going to be heisted next?"

"Probably not."

"Then may I ask why I've spent almost an entire hour on the phone with an extremely suspicious French curator?"

"Every art object stolen has been of major cultural importance to the countries of Europe. The statue of David in Italy, the 'Night Watch' in Holland, now the 'Mona Lisa' in France. The Wind Dancer would be a prime candidate for theft if it was still in Europe." Alex shrugged. "But it's not likely to be a target while it's safe on U.S. soil. Too bad."

" I'm sure Jonathan Andreas doesn't think so."

Alex chuckled, his blue eyes suddenly sparkling in his tanned face. "Why the hell are you so glum?"

"Because you're not. You're excited as hell and operating on all cylinders. You're on the trail of something. I know you, Alex."

Alex gazed at him innocently.

"Why did you have me call the Louvre when I could have found out what you wanted to know by tapping Goldbaum or one of the usual newspaper sources?"

" Interpol won't bother you, Pavel."

"But you did want me to stir something up when I made the call."

Alex nodded." I had a hunch and wanted to leapfrog a few obstacles. Don't worry, it won't put your neck on the line."

" I'm not worrying. My neck has been on the line before." Pavel smiled. "Remember that prisoner at Diranev? I thought I'd had it for sure before you stepped in and chopped him."

"You owed me money. I had to keep you alive to collect."

"And all this time you had me convinced you'd done it because of the nobility of your soul."

"How could that be when I don't even know the meaning of the word nobility."

"But you know the meaning of the word friendship," Pavel said softly.

Alex quickly looked down. "Lord, you're getting maudlin in your old age."

" I'm merely playing cleverly on your sympathy to gain what I want from you."

"And what do you want?"

"Martinique. I can't stand all this snow. It reminds me of Diranev. Why you decided to buy a house in Switzerland baffles me."

"It's one of the few countries left on earth that permits a man to live with a minimum of red tape."

" I can stand a little red tape if it gets me out of the ice and snow." He stared pleadingly at Alex. "Martinique?"

Pavel looked like a wistful puppy gazing at a bone just out of reach, Alex thought with affection. "Okay. Martinique. After I finish with-"

"Dammit, the next ice age will be here by the time you get to the end of this one." Pavel turned away and strode toward the door. "I should have sent for Angela without asking you. You're much more pliable to suggestion when you're operating on a physical and not a cerebral level."

"Pavel."

"Yes?"

"I'm expecting a call. Put it through right away, will you?"

"Who?"

"Ledford."

Pavel's eyes widened in astonishment. "Christ," he whispered.

"Hardly." Alex's lips twisted sardonically. "Our friend Ledford is much closer to Lucifer."

"You think he's responsible for all this?" Pavel nodded at the news clippings.

"Some of it bears his stamp. Ledford's always displayed a certain flamboyance and he'd headed several of the Agency's operations involving art objects before they assigned him to me."

" I'd forgotten that." Pavel frowned, trying to remember the details. "He stole back that Del Sarto used to ransom a Portuguese diplomat in Brazil, didn't he?"

"Among many others."

"It's a CIA operation?"

"At first I thought so. Not now."

"Then what?"

Alex shrugged. "Perhaps we'll find out when Ledford phones."

Pavel's eyes narrowed. "That's why you had me call the Louvre. You didn't really think the Wind Dancer was the next target. You were issuing an invitation."

"More in the nature of a summons." Alex grinned.

" Ledford always has had a passion for the Wind Dancer. He used to rave about it. He'll understand what my inquiry about the statue means."

"You believe the curator is collaborating with Ledford?"

"He's probably in contact with Ledford or whoever stole the 'Mona Lisa.' Security was too tight at the Louvre for anyone but the curator to be able to bypass it."

"Bribery?"

" It would have to be extravagant bribery. I'd say in the multimillions."

" That doesn't make any sense. Why pay millions to steal a painting that can't be fenced? Even a closet collector wouldn't risk buying a painting as famous as the 'Mona Lisa.' "

"An interesting question." Alex leaned back in his chair. "We'll have to find out, won't we?"

"Ledford won't discuss this over the phone. He'll come here."

"Probably."

" It's a mistake, Alex. If it is Ledford, you shouldn't have let him know you're on to him."

"He'll be no problem. I've dealt with him before."

" But you were on the same side."

"He's a bastard but not capable of any major mischief."

"He could have changed." Pavel grimaced. "He was different with you, and I believe you're underestimating him." He left the study.

Alex stared down at the yellow pad, doodling absently with a pen, drawing circles around the word Vasaro, underlining Wind Dancer, scrawling four question marks after the name Jonathan Andreas. Maybe Pavel was right and Alex was taking a risk. When he had spotted the possibility that Ledford was involved in the puzzle, his interest had escalated. His past dealings with the man had left a sour taste in his mouth, and he had looked forward to pulling this particular devil's tail. But perhaps this godawful boredom was clouding his judgment and leading him to take chances he wouldn't ordinarily take.

Well, it was done now. If Ledford was involved, he now knew Alex was interested. Alex could only wait for Ledford to react.

Impatiently, he threw the pen aside, rose to his feet, and moved across the room to stand looking out the window at the snow-capped peaks of the Alps. The leaden gray sky hovered over the mountains while blacker clouds roiled in from the north. A storm was coming. Not that it mattered. The chalet was well stocked, had its own generator, and Alex rather liked the feeling of isolation created by banks of snow. He could adjust to society when necessary, but preferred a solitary state.

"He's here, Alex." Pavel threw open the door and stepped aside to allow Brian Ledford to enter Alex's study. "Will you need me?"