Serge Vostad remained in his chair as Gretta and Arny were led out to the patio balcony by a suited, muscular aide who only grunted when spoken to. A warm breeze fluttered the long fringe on the umbrellas placed strategically about the patio and a faint snatch of music seeped from two wall mounted speakers that looked capable of fracturing concrete.

"I agreed to see you because I know of CONGA; I had dealings with a professor there."

"Professor Stilton." Gretta said.

"Yes, Stilton... I heard he died."

"He did." Gretta coughed and asked if she could sit. Serge waved a care less hand.

"So now you want to ask what exactly?"

"You had an arrangement with a Bryce Deadmarsh to purchase a stamp he was offering for sale."

"You know this how?"

"It's what I do, Mr. Vostad. And if you know CONGA, you know what else we do."

Serge took a painful amount of time to select, trim and light a foot long cigar. He puffed a cloud up under the umbrella and rolled it in his fingers, admiring the texture. Arny started to complain and Gretta shushed him.

"You want the stamp for the people of the island."

"It's theirs."

"It is also a very valuable commodity."

"All the more reason they should have it. It belongs where it can do the most good, Mr. Vostad, not hidden away in your private safe."

He nodded slowly, puffing again on his cigar. "Perhaps I agree."

"That's great, so uh... the stamp?"

"Alas, Miss Lawrence, I do not have it... yet." He took a phone from his pocket and pressed a key, holding to his ear. His expression went from curiosity to icy cold to a thunderous rage.

------------------------------

"You think it was her?"

"They went to Gravestone's, I assume she was working for him too. We know she left Niue and returned to Toronto. Who else could it be?"

"You think she killed them?"

"Likely. Gravestone never did any of his own dirty work."

"Serge looked like he would explode."

"He lost two good men, he said. I was amazed he kept his word about forgetting the stamp."

"I wasn't. He expects you to exact revenge for him in exchange."

"He didn't say that, Arny."

"He didn't have to."

The rest of the ride went in silence until they arrived outside the Gravestone mansion and Gretta stepped out of the car and stared through the iron gates up the long drive. The car parked just up the road was a black sedan that looked like just the vehicle a Russian mobster would drive.

She was tempted to just push the button and announce herself but discretion kicked in and she went back to the car and drove around the area until she found a spot that allowed access to the rear of the Gravestone estate where she got out and walked around.

"What are you planning, Gretta?"

"I'm playing by ear. First I want to see what has happened in there and then decide on the next step."

"This is just like all your operations; you wind up walking into some kind of potential killing zone. You aren't even supposed to be here without reporting in to whatshisface... Trask."

"If I waited for a go ahead from him we'd be on this case for years."

"Gretta-" Arny just blew out his breath and looked away. "Forget it. I should know better."

"You wait here, if there's anything I need help with I'll hit your number on the phone and you can just come or call the cops. Probably call the cops first."

"Jesus, Gretta..."

She leaned in the passenger window and kissed his cheek. "C'mon partner, we do this all the time." Her light tone and the smile in her voice left him more depressed than ever and he watched forlornly as she jogged to the small wire fence defining the rear of the properties on Gravestone's street, then out of sight in the darkness.

The ground sloped up to the house with patches of scrub and weeds until it halted against a low stone wall that encased a velvet green lawn, trimmed with precision. Gretta crossed the lawn in a crouch and stepped up onto the flag terrace near a set of French doors. Immediately the terrace was flooded with light and Gretta closed her eyes and sagged; she knew she was dead in the water.

The door opened and a voice called for her to lock her hands behind her head and come inside... carefully.

"Hello Bishop." Gretta paused and glanced at the two bodies on the foyer floor. "You party hard."

"I'm a victim here, Miss Lawrence. These men came in and threatened me; they killed my maid."

"Another one?" Gretta turned and gave Luane a curious look. "You didn't shoot his maid as well."

"No, they did. I was a little slow in reading their intent."

"You seem to be healing well."

"Yes. I guess I owe you a thank you for getting me to the hospital promptly. Lucky you and your friend just happened to be touring... on private property."

"Could we skip the reunion and put the guns away."

"Always the pragmatist." Gretta started to lower her hand but Luane stopped her with a gesture of warning with her gun.

"The only thing dear Bishop is pragmatic about is business, and we still have some to complete." She nudged him toward the stairs while keeping her gun on Gretta.

"So you're going to take the stamp. What will you do with it?"

"What do you think? I'll sell it to the highest bidder." Luane had a noticeable limp and the long staircase was bothering her.

"And then you also know I will be opposing you."

She smiled and paused, leaning on the banister. "I'm afraid not, Gretta. My original mandate was to take you out first. The miss at the hotel was unfortunate. I figured If I got your boyfriend first you might let your anger affect your judgement and getting you would be easier. Now, it's academic. Right?"

"Don't bet the farm, Luane. You can still walk away from all this. Bishop will find a way to cover that mess downstairs, won't you, Bishop?"

He made a face and shoved his hands in his pockets. Luane looked at Gretta and gave some thought to her suggestion. She could walk away. Gravestone would be good for her fee or she would make him pay in other ways. There was no procedure against her in Niue; she was free and clear if she chose.

"What about you? Are you saying you would just forgive and forget?"

"All I wanted was to see that the stamp went to the people of Niue. I could have watched you bleed to death on the island."

"Wait a minute," Bishop started. "Who do you think will get blamed for that?" He nodded toward the foyer. "I'm not taking the blame and getting into a war with the Russian mafia."

"Why it was self defense wasn't it? They killed your maid and you managed to overpower them. Unfortunately that meant shooting them but your lawyer- is it still Mort Meslin- he should be able to wriggle you out of that." Gretta sensed a shift in loyalties or at least preferable outcomes.

"You can't do this!"

"I think we can, Bishop. Tell you what, you give Gretta the stamp and pay me my fee, plus an extra for saving from those two and we'll get out of your life. That okay with you Gretta?"

"Perfect."

"No goddamn way! I'm letting you two push me around like that. I got that stamp fair and square."

"Bullshit!" The yell came from below them and they all turned to see Bryce Deadmarsh leaning on a cane and holding up a very large automatic.

"Bryce! How the hell—"

"Determination, Bishop. That and a thirst for revenge for this." He tapped the cane o the floor.

"Now wait a mi—"

"Shut up! You, with the gun, drop it now."

Luane looked at Gretta and set the gun on the steps at her feet.

"Kick it down here, smartass."

"Who is this guy?" Luane scoffed.

"Do as I say or you'll never know, sweetheart."

She kicked the gun down and stood with a hand on her hip. Gretta unlocked her fingers and flexed them, dropping her arms down to her side and Bishop started his protests again.

"Shut up, Bishop." Bryce moved around so that none of his targets were behind the others. "This is the man who forced me to give up a source I had developed to purchase the stamp by shooting me in the leg... leaving it permanently damaged I might point out." This last aimed directly at Bishop in leaden tones.

"You were trying to hold me up—"

"Itold you to shut up. Open your mouth again and I'll fill it with this." Hehoisted the gun higher and Bishop clamped his mouth closed. "Now let's finishour climb to his office and get the stamp shall we."

Gretta followed Bishop into the spacious room while Luane and Bryce limped in after her. Bishop stopped in the middle of the room and stuck out his chin at Bryce.

"We need to get something straight here."

"What we need," Bryce growled, "is for you to stop your blathering and get the stamp. I won't tell you again, Bishop. Next time you'll be crawling to your wall safe." He took a step forward and aimed at Bishop's leg.

Luane slid her hand behind her back and Gretta started to shake her head but the hand came back in a blur and Bryce stiffened and partially turned, the knife buried behind his shoulder blade. He dropped gun and tried to support himself on the cane but toppled over, smacking his face on the end of the desk on the way down.

"Great work!" Bishop yelled and dove for the gun.

Gretta's foot came down on his arm and the crack was almost lost in his scream. He rolled onto his back, grasping the oddly bent limb and roaring in pain. Gretta picked up the gun and gave Luane a sympathetic shrug.

"You could have just walked away. He wasn't going to shoot anyone. She popped the clip and showed Luane that it was empty. "He just wanted to scare the crap out of Bishop."

"You're telling me that you are going to turn me in now?"

"He was an unnecessary casualty, Luane. Even I don't knock off bystanders." She took out her phone and hit the number for Arny.