“Maybe we’ll know soon. I think Cardot is almost finished with his examination.”

“It’s about time.” Paul Cardot had been in that back storage room of the gallery for over two hours. And every hour had seemed an eternity to Jane. “Did he give you any hint about-”

“Nothing,” Cardot said as he came out of the storage room. “The frame is a fine mahogany and has no microdots or any other devices embedded in it. The portrait itself appears to be just what it seems.” He nodded at Jane. “A very fine painting. Unless you, the artist, encoded something in the color or design that I wouldn’t be able to determine without extensive cryptographic analysis, then there’s no reason to believe Guilt is anything but a work of art.”

Jane gazed at him with disappointment. When Cardot had unloaded all of his equipment, X-ray machines, special lights, and an entire box of chemicals, she had been encouraged. Then when MacDuff had told her that Sarnoff was a phony, she had hoped they were at last getting to the bottom of this nightmare puzzle. “You’re sure?”

He nodded. “Venable doesn’t send careless professionals to do this kind of examination. He’s going to go over my report with a microscope. Particularly since he knows I’m going to take him to the cleaners for dragging me out of bed in the middle of the night and making me lug all my equipment across town.” He started packing up his bottles into his case. “I’ll be out of your gallery in fifteen minutes, Ms. MacGuire.”

“It’s not my gallery,” Jane said. “I hoped you’d be able to give me some-” She turned away. “Thank you for coming.”

“I’ll see him out, Jane,” MacDuff said. “If you won’t go to bed, will you go upstairs and rest?”

“Yes.” She glanced at the faint light streaming through the plate-glass window at the front of the gallery. “It’s after eight. Yvette Denarve should be here soon.”

“And you’re in fine shape to deal with her, aren’t you?”

“Good enough.” She turned toward the elevator. “Stop nagging me, MacDuff. I have to do this for Celine.”

“I don’t nag. Nagging is for shrews and-”

“Lairds who want their own way in everything.” She got on the elevator. “Go check on Jock. He hasn’t come inside since that expert showed up.”

He smiled. “Jock can take care of himself now, Jane. No one could do it better. You were never able to grasp the concept that he’s not the brittle lad he was when you first met him.”

She could grasp it. She just could never quite believe it. The memory of that breakable boy struggling to keep his sanity was always with her. She knew with her mind how deadly he could be, but not with her heart. That struggle had made her ache with sympathy, then and it still did now. “Go check on him.”

“As you like.” His smile disappeared, and his expression became thoughtful as the elevator door closed between them.

Jane rubbed her temple as the elevator started to move. Okay, there wasn’t anything secret hidden in the painting or frame. But the man who wanted Guilt was very much a mystery. Sarnoff was not his name, and computers were not his game. Who the hell was he?

She got off the elevator and headed for the bedroom. She’d wash up, get dressed, then pack. She supposed she should eat something before this day started. It was promising to be a hell of a rough day once Yvette Denarve showed up on the scene. Or perhaps she wouldn’t bother to eat. It seemed too much effort at the moment and she was-

There was a note pinned to her bedroom door.

Jane,

There’s fresh coffee made in the kitchen, and I washed your enormous cup. I noticed there was orange juice and milk in the refrigerator, and I put a box of cereal on the table.

Jock

She could feel the moisture sting her eyes. Stupid to be touched by such a simple thing. When had he slipped by them to come up and get all of this in readiness? No pushing, no nudging, just Jock doing what he thought best for her.

Hell, it wouldn’t take that long to eat a little, and she could definitely use the coffee. She turned and headed for the kitchen.

FOUR

Paris

Day Two

VENABLE CALLED MACDUFF JUST after noon that day. “I need to talk to Jock Gavin.”

“Then why are you calling me?”

“Because if I didn’t, you’d accuse me of going around you and trying to victimize the poor boy.”

“He’s a man, not a boy.”

“Then let him protect himself,” Venable said sourly. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I gave him the option of saying no.”

“After you set up a scenario that made it impossible for him to refuse.” He added impatiently, “So why do you want to talk to him?” He glanced at Jock, who was sitting in a chair a few feet away. “I’m turning up the volume and putting you on speaker. Don’t say anything to me that you don’t want him to hear. Or do you want me to hang up, Jock?”

Jock shook his head. “I have no secrets from you.”

“Not today. Yesterday was a different matter,” MacDuff said dryly. “Talk, Venable.”

“I want to know about Ted Weismann.”

“You should know all there is to know about him,” Jock said. “He’s your informant. You paid him to introduce me into Sang Noir.”

“I know he’s greedy, and his information always panned out. You were around him for over two weeks before you took off for Paris.”

“That doesn’t mean that I know much about him. I wasn’t concentrating on Weismann while I was there. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is that the minute you took down Folard, Weismann had to go on the run or end up like Celine Denarve. Millet was there and recognized you, and he made the connection. I knew it would happen. One way or another, I was preparing to lose my informant.”

“And?”

“Weismann contacted me and wants to make a deal. No more dribbling bits of information. He’s prepared to spill his guts for a large enough sum that would permit him to find a hiding place that would be luxurious enough to make it worth the risk.”

“And what’s your question to me?”

“Just how much does he know? Would I be wasting money?”

Jock thought about it. “It’s possible. I got the impression he wasn’t as deeply into the group’s confidence as the core eight. But he’s very personable, and Millet did send him out a couple times to scope out possible jobs. A man who regards information as cash and loves money would make it his business to find out all he could. And why would he have been willing to introduce me to his fine friends when he knew I’d possibly have to blow them away? He might have acquired enough information to be ready to step away from them and go into retirement.”

“So that he could make me pay through the nose.”

“It’s all supposition, of course.” Jock paused. “I don’t know if Weismann is a good bet for you. I do know he’s clever and self-serving. He was probably keeping an eye on me to see when I was going to make my move.” He was silent a moment. “Clever enough to dangle something out there to tempt you. What was it, Venable?”

For a moment MacDuff thought Venable wasn’t going to answer.

“He said that he knew why Jane MacGuire was targeted.” He paused. “And who sent Millet that article and hired him for a possible future kill.”

“Then pay it,” MacDuff said harshly. “If he’s lying, then take the hit. You owe it to her. You screwed up.”

“I’ll consider it. If she agrees to cooperate. If you agree to cooperate.”

“A deal?” MacDuff asked. “Forget it. You’re not going to use me. You’re not going to use Jock. And you’re sure as hell not going to use Jane.”

“Why don’t you take that up with her? Weismann sent me a bit of information to prove his good faith. He said to tell Jane MacGuire that the order had gone out for a total on her.”

“Total?” MacDuff repeated. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Total extermination,” Jock said slowly. “Family, friends, coworkers. Wipe every trace of the target from the face of the earth.”