Unintended Consequences

attention from the press since the thwarted bombing, and they didn’t want photographs of me arriving at or leaving your house at odd hours.”
    “What’s happened in that regard since I last saw you?”
    “Well, all hell broke loose in the press,” Holly said. “I only escaped the reporters because I ran back to the office immediately after Viv and I dealt with the perps, so she got all the attention, which was just fine with me and with Langley, too. They don’t like our names appearing in the press under such circumstances. They’re giving me the Intelligence Star medal, but then I have to give it right back. The Agency calls these decorations ‘jockstrap medals’ because we never get to wear them.”
    “Congratulations.”
    “How are you feeling after your ordeal?”
    “I don’t remember an ordeal, so I guess I feel okay.”
    “When are you coming home?”
    “I don’t know. Before I do, I’d like to at least know why I’m here.”
    “We’d like to know that, too. We don’t like people associated with the Agency being drugged. I don’t know how you escaped being interrogated by somebody, or even tortured.”
    “Now, there’s a pleasant thought—that somebody might want to torture me.”
    “Well, maybe not, since they didn’t. This whole thing is baffling.”
    “Tell me about it,” Stone said wryly.
    “Listen, I’ve got to get to my first meeting of the day. Oh, by the way, the president has made the appointment of Lance Cabot to succeed Kate Lee. Hearings start tomorrow.”
    “I’ll look for them on TV.”
    “Don’t bother. They’ll be public only long enough for the press to get some shots. Everything else will be in closed sessions.”
    “Okay, I won’t bother.”
    “You’re sure you don’t remember anything yet?”
    “Not yet. Oh, when I opened my luggage I found a tuxedo, which I thought was odd, since I don’t travel with one unless I know I’ll need it.”
    “I guess you must have missed the party, then. Gotta run. I’ll be back in the office in a couple of days if you need to reach me.”
    They said goodbye and hung up. Stone sat at the desk, staring into his briefcase. He didn’t know what to do; he had no business to conduct in Paris; he had no social events to attend; he didn’t know anybody in Paris, except the people he’d met at the embassy earlier. He was hungry, though, so he ordered a sandwich from room service, then he phoned Woodman & Weld’s managing partner, Bill Eggers, with whom he was supposed to have met three or four days ago. Maybe Bill could shed some light on why he was in Paris.
    “Mr. Eggers’s office,” the secretary said.
    “Hi, it’s Stone. Is he in yet?”
    “No, and he won’t be.”
    “Can I reach him on his cell?”
    “I’m afraid not. He’s fishing or shooting moose or something in the wilds of northern Maine and can’t be reached.”
    “I’m in Paris. Ask him to call me when he returns.”
    “That won’t be until the end of next week.”
    “Never mind, then.” Stone hung up.
    He was eating forty-five minutes later when he heard the doorbell, and an envelope was slid under his door. He put down the sandwich, opened the door—nobody there—then closed it and picked up the envelope. His name was written on it in beautiful calligraphy, but there was no return address. He opened it and extracted a card.
    Dinner is at eight o
’
clock this evening
,
black tie. A car will call for you at your hotel at seven-forty-five.
The same calligraphy, but it was unsigned. The paper appeared to be expensive.
    Stone went back to his sandwich, but the phone rang, and he had to get up again. “Hello?”
    “Stone, it’s Amanda Hurley. How are you?”
    “Very well, thank you.” Who the hell was Amanda Hurley?
    “From the plane, remember?”
    “Of course.”
    “Are we still on for dinner tomorrow night?”
    “Certainly.”
    “I’ve booked a table for us at Lasserre, on Avenue Franklin Roosevelt. Do you know it?”
    “I went there once some years ago.”
    “Is that all right, then?”
    “Yes, fine.”
    “I’ve got to go somewhere for drinks first, so I’ll meet you there at eight-thirty.”
    “Good.”
    “The table is in your name. See you then.” She hung up.
    Stone went back to his sandwich, reflecting that he was now attending a dinner party at an unknown place with unknown people, then having dinner with a woman he couldn’t remember.
    His calendar was filling up.

4
    S tone tied his black bow tie and began