Jeffrey Glimb read the message left for him at the cruise ship's port office, frowning and wetting his lips.

"Something the matter, dear?" His wife asked.

"Not really, a little bit of business I'll need to take care of before we go into town for dinner. I'm sorry dear, even retirees are sometimes necessary."

"As long it doesn't spoil this holiday; I've had such a wonderful time, Jeffrey, it was the best thing you could have arranged."

"You go to the hotel with the tour director and I'll catch up as soon as I deal with this." He waved the note and gave her a reassuring nod.

Arnold's message made Jeffrey smile; he could just see him being bullied by Gretta to send the message. She had worked at Cutter and Glimb many years ago under another name and Arnold had fallen under her spell, for ever it seemed. In spite of his humourous reminiscing he read the note again with concern. He had the pen with him; it just seemed the right thing to do on this holiday... but not so now.

As he pocketed the note and was about to find a telephone, he saw the man moving toward him with determined strides and he suddenly felt a little afraid.

"Mr. Glimb? Ted Cowan, I'm with CONGA, I'm an associate of Gretta Lawrence, Arnold Wainright's partner?"

"Oh, oh Gretta, yes. I just received a note from─"

"I know, sir. Could we go somewhere less public and talk?"

"My wife..."

"It will only take a few minutes, sir."

Jeffrey listened carefully to the agent's story and advice, his concern increasing as the minutes dragged then when he was done he asked if the man would accompany him to the hotel to make sure his wife was all right. Ted agreed and they headed for the water taxis for the 30 minute run to the Hotel Bucintoro.

***************

The two visitors sat comfortably on the terrace of Bishop's suite and enjoyed the tumblers of scotch they held. The call had come along with a crisp command to come immediately or not at all. Because of Bishop's reputation they had complied, arriving within hours of the call and were now basking in the Venice sun, sipping vintage scotch and listening to the arrangement their host was proposing.

"This Lawrence woman, why is she so worrisome to you, surely she is just a woman like many others." The larger of the two men gave Bishop a sardonic look.

"I assure you, she is nothing like other women and before you continue your scoffing, this is what I got for underestimating her." He lifted the shattered arm and let it drop. "I have been at war with this woman for many years and have yet to come out a winner; I intend this time to be different... very different."

"As I understand this, you want us to acquire this valuable pen and should this- this Lawrence woman interfere, you want us to eliminate her." The second man adjusted the crease in his immaculate pants and shot a cuff from his tailored jacket.

"Is that a problem?"

"Not at all, I just like to be clear before undertaking a contract, which by the way needs to be completed with an agreement on the amount we require."

"I pay for success only." Bishop said, trading stares with the man.

"We work for pay only, Mr. Gravestone."

Bishop took out his cheque book and, standing his drink on the edge of the booklet, wrote a cheque. He tore it out and slid it across the table. "This buys me your services for the task described. No negotiation."

The man picked it up, read it and passed to his partner. "I think we can say the amount is suitable."

"Good. The owner of the pen is staying at the on the fifth floor of the Hotel Bucintoro. His name is Glimb."

"Does he have it with him?"

"I have no idea. That money is for you to get me that pen. Period."

"We'll take care of everything, Mr. Gravestone; we will need extra time of course if he doesn't have it with him. Travel to Canada will incur additional costs."

"Are you just going to keep on about your goddamn finances or did I make a mistake asking for somebody competent?"

"You are paying for the top in professional services, Mr. Gravestone, of that you can be assured."

"So assure me, and keep me posted. I'll be here until I see success."

****************

"You'll be happy to know I gave all the information to Maurice and left it at that."

"You're finished?"

"What did I just say; I would like to hear from Ted though, to see if he met with Jeffrey alright."

"So you're almost finished." Arny emphasized the time with annoyance.

"We sent him a message, Arny, wouldn't you like to know if he at least got it?"

"Can't you call Ted?"

"He's on assignment, it's not really a good idea to push my luck with him; he's doing me a big favour already."

"So how about putting some thought into that promised holiday?"

They sat at the kitchen table and tossed around ideas about destinations, unable to agree for various reasons until Arny threw up his hands and said to forget the whole thing, he was going into the office, at least there was stuff there he could make a decision on. Gretta let him go without argument, she knew his moods and when or when not to respond.

This was not a time. She gave a few more minutes to thinking about destinations and then started thinking about the other pen Allen mentioned. Interesting that Jeffrey Glimb would have one of those, owners had to be selected and she wondered again why Jeffrey. She grabbed her laptop and began a search on the pen again.

Dinner plans could wait. Maybe they could eat out, that might mollify his highness a bit. While the ideas processed through her mind she kept seeing Marcus Cesari lunging at her with the knife. Gravestone only played hardball and she knew he wasn't finished yet.

The site came up showing a picture of the Aurora Diamante pen.

Her cell buzzed and she picked it up, seeing Ted's code number. She flipped the switch and transferred the call to another phone then answered, eyes still transfixed on the screen.

"Ted."

"Hi. I met your man, explained everything and then took him to his hotel. Met his wife and told him to keep your number handy. He's got the pen with him by the way."

"Oh crap. Why would he do that?"

"Said he wanted the special holiday recorded with the special pen."

"Swell. Listen, Ted, I can't thank you enough for this; Gravestone is definitely on the hunt and I still think they might be in danger. Do you know when their ship leaves again?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, four-twenty. I'll try and keep a check but Maurice has been on to me and I had to fudge my own report a bit to cover the lost time."

"Don't take any flack for me, Ted. Tell Maurice the truth and I'll deal with him if necessary."

"Don't worry; I've got enough on my plate now.

*****************

Jeffrey stood at the small writing desk in his hotel and stared at the Dragon pen. His wife, Helen, crossed the room and placed an arm about his waist. "Did you take care of your business alright the other day, dear?"

"Hmm? Uh- oh yes. Yes all taken care of." His voice trailed off and Helen turned him toward her.

"What's bothering you, Jeffrey, I know you too well not to recognize the signs."

"It's nothing... well, actually it is something and you have every right to know. Come over and sit down." Helen sat tentatively, her eyes searching her husband's face with concern.

"It's about this." He held up the pen and her face pinched in confusion. Jeffrey told her everything he knew and how he found out. He asked if she wanted to cut their holiday short and return home. "It won't upset me one bit if that's your choice."

"Are we in any danger, Jeffrey?" She took his hands.

"I honestly don't know, sweetheart. Allen Lockhart's wife was in danger because of this pen."

"But Gretta's company are on this, right? I mean you said that she rescued Allen's wife..."

"As far as I know Gretta Lawrence acted on her own on information from Arnold. It was she who contacted the man I spoke with at the port. Ted Cowan. He works for the same company as Gretta but he was here on other business."

"Can't he help us?"

"Helen, what can he do? We don't know anything except some people are anxious to get this pen and are apparently quite ruthless. Even if he knows who's responsible, there's nothing he could do about it; nobody has approached us."

"Yet." Her word fell like lead in the quiet room.

"I'm going to arrange for a flight home; I don't think either of us will enjoy the rest of our time over here with this hanging over us."

"I think I would like that too. I'm so sorry, Jeffrey, this was something we both looked forward to so much."

"We'll do it again or something as good, don't fret." He went to the phone and spoke to the desk then he called the port office for Royal Caribbean and explained what he was doing, asking for his luggage to be delivered to the airport and to add the charge to his bill.

They expressed disappointment for his need to quit the cruise and they would take care of everything even in arranging for a water taxi to pick them up at their hotel when they were ready to leave. Helen began collecting their things from the closet and the drawers that she had just finished arranging.

"It's a shame; this is such a lovely place."

"I promise as soon as possible we will be on another cruise in an equally magnificent hotel." He told her the arrangements and that first thing in the morning they could check out and take the provided taxi to Marco Polo Airport.