René handed him the glass and sat on a chair across from him. She curled her legs up under her and stared into her drink.

"Thanks for this," he said, holding the glass up a bit. "I need something to scald my lining clean."

She lifted her eyes and studied him silently; a motorcycle revved its engine and flew past the front of the cottage, drawing her attention to the window. Richard sipped his drink and inhaled deeply. A harsh sunshine was painting images across the far wall and he let his mind apply human shapes to the patterns, a kind of Rorschach test.

She spoke and he didn't hear her and when she said his name he snapped back to attention, the images vanishing never to be remembered.

"Huh? Sorry, I didn't hear you."

"I said what are you going to do now?"

"About?"

"This whole business . . . us?"

Richard swirled the last of the drink in his glass and downed it, wincing at the heat. They had returned to Portovenere in the dark and spent the night wrapped in each other's arms. Now in the late morning, reality smacked them both hard and the drinks were a brace against facing it immediately.

Could he really use this young woman as a beard? Just jump into her life and use the charm and wit that Nathan so long ago confessed was their reason for scouting him? What of René herself? Little oddities in her behavior, a kind of placid acceptance to some of the goings on, something he couldn't quite nail down. He mulled his chances of still using her to help get the money and in the end decided that nothing ventured was nothing gained.

"I have something that I need to do, something perhaps dangerous." He waited and so did she. "Okay, here's my story."

The sun had passed overhead and the living room became darker. René Got up and turned on a light. Richard's tale had kept her spellbound and when he finished at last, she chewed a knuckle contemplatively.

"So that woman you saved yesterday planned to go away with you and instead she turned against you."

"It's a little more complex than that but in essence, yes. The Agency got to her first and she capitulated."

"That doesn't sound much like a relationship that was going anywhere."

Richard smiled and then gave a little laugh.

"No, I suppose not, but like I said, it's complex."

She shook her head and sighed. "Did you love her?"

He frowned and studied his glass. "Once . . . I thought I did."

"Did she love you?"

"Once I thought she did." His smile was rueful. "Looking back now, I doubt it."

"Yet you did what you did for her."

"There was a lot to our relationship that was good, not just the- the . . ." He sighed and put his glass down. "Like I said before, it was complex and now it's even more so. When the Agency comes after you, it's not to administer a slap on the wrist, okay? That business yesterday had the smell of Agency manipulation all over it."

"But they were local gangsters."

"René, don't try and figure it out. It's a rat's maze. I just need to know if you would want to help me get that money." There, it was out and he kept his eyes on hers.

"Is that all you wanted in the beginning, someone to stick their neck in the noose and get the money?"

He wet his lips and looked away for a moment. "In truth, yes."

Her face froze and she held his eyes with hers. He saw the strange lack of hurt or surprise that he would normally expect.

"I don't presume you'll believe me now, but it became something more, much more. That's why I never brought it up before."

She set her drink aside and rubbed her forehead wearily.

"How can I believe you now? What proof do I have this is not just one of those things your so called Agency does?"

"I have no proof to offer, just my word. I've told you the truth, René, and whether you choose to help or not it doesn't alter how I feel. But I am going to get the money somehow so . . ."

"So I should make up my mind?"

"I'm not pressuring you. I won't lie and say I hope you will help; it's a lot of money René and with or without me, you would deserve a handsome share."

"Payment for abetting?"

"I can't help how you look at it; all I'm saying is that I would never ask you to do it for nothing."

She looked mildly amused and sighed mightily.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"I kind of imagined that if I did it, it would be for something more than money."

The silence between them fell like a heavy drape and Richard replayed her statement rapidly through his perplexed mind. Could this lovely young woman be suggesting that there was actually something deeper they could share?

"René, your suggestion has really caught me off guard. I had no idea you felt anything close to what I was feeling."

She moved over and sat on the arm of his chair.

"Our night together taught me a little about letting myself enjoy a bit of life instead of devoting my time to avoiding it." She leaned down and kissed him warmly. "I'll help you with your money, Richard."

The ease of acceptance rang the faint bell again but as the sun settled outside, the room darkened even more and in the shadows, on the chair, they sealed their agreement. His misgiving melted away.

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

Jean picked up the phone and made some calls to associates that had dealt with Pierre and his friend Roger. The purpose was to get any material that would help identify either or both, Monique and Richard. His last call had been to another associate, who provided personnel for special services, and now Jean sat at the huge desk in his villa, contemplating the newly assembled team. Five men, similar in looks and build and all familiar with the wet side of doing business for the Jean Tremblays of their world, sat comfortably about the room.

He explained the situation and the players involved and what was required. He was expecting some pictures from another source and would pass them on the minute they arrived; meanwhile they were to stake out the area around the marina, since that's where the people involved all seemed to be assembling.

If they found Carstairs, he was to be eliminated. If they came across Monique, she was to be brought to him for a thorough and final interview. Available descriptions were given to the team and they left without question.

He pushed his chair back and stood, stretching. The sun was painting the sea with a golden skin and wisps of cloud, grey on top and tinged in pink underneath, hung limply in the chill evening air. He grunted and made his way out of the office, through the foyer and up the winding marble staircase to the master bedroom. Sprawling on the satin sheets, wearing a hint of a thong and dipping strawberries in whipped cream, Jean's mistress crooned as he entered the room.