"That's why I tried to hide it from you. Till I had a chance to learn the truth."

"Bellay must know."

"Of course."

"Then he's been testing us."

"That's why we're here. He's not protecting us. He's watching us."

"But if that's true" her eyes were frantic "if there isn't some mistake, that means my father "

"Tried to stop me. That's how Jan got killed. That's how the man got in our room. And your room. He was trying to get even with your father."

"No. He didn't mention Father's name."

"It doesn't matter. All I know is that your father's name is on that list and "

She charged from the bathroom.

"Hey!"

She whirled to face him. "No, I'll prove it to you. I refuse to let you think this. He's my father. Now you're telling me that I don't really know him, that he lied to us when he explained about Pierre de St. Laurent. The implication is that St. Laurent is still alive and that my father knows him, that they're partners, that ... If I believed what you're suggesting, I'd go crazy. That my father tried to kill me!"

"I'm on your side. Keep your voice down, or that man out there will "

"I don't care! I'm going to prove you're wrong! I'll prove it to Bellay! To everyone!"

"But how?"

"I'll phone him! Now! I'll tell him what we've learned! He wouldn't lie to me!

I'll ask him!"

Chapter 32.

She grabbed at the door. Pete hurried toward her. Apparently she feared that he wanted to stop her, for her movements now intensified. She yanked the door so hard that as she shoved it to one side it cracked against the wall. Pete rushed out behind her.

Past her shoulder, he saw Henri wheel around to face them, fumbling to remove the headphones he was listening to. His face was fl.u.s.tered, red above the short dark beard. "I only " he began.

"I know what you were doing," Simone said. "You were listening! It doesn't matter! You know what I want! The phone! Where is it! Let me use it!"

"It's only for emergencies."

"And what the h.e.l.l is this? You heard what we were saying! It's important!"

"Let me radio the agency to get permission."

She saw the phone between two monitors along the wall.

Henri stood to grab her.

Houston squeezed between them. Simone reached the phone and dialed.

"It's not allowed," Henri said.

"Relax," Pete answered. "If this works, you'll be commended. If it doesn't, you can say it was our fault."

Henri reached for his gun. But then his arm stopped, in suspension.

For Simone was speaking on the telephone. Her French was urgent. Houston only understood a few quick phrases.

Henri understood exactly, though. His eyes were narrow. He stood stiffly, lips taut, pinched together with such force they were pale and bloodless.

Without breathing, Houston turned to watch Simone. Her voice was louder now, her words more demanding.

Suddenly her tone changed from urgency to puzzlement, from certainty to confusion.

Houston looked at Henri, who now seemed sterner, nodding with grim resolve.

"What's she saying?" Houston's throat felt raw. His voice broke.

Henri raised his hand for silence, staring at Simone.

The phone slipped through her fingers, falling on its cradle. She studied it as if it were obscene.

She'd pulled her hair to one side. Houston saw the hackles on her neck. A ripple shuddered through him. She trembled, slowly turning, blinking through swollen eyes.

"What is it?" Houston said.

"My father," she said.

Houston walked to her and touched her shoulders. "What about your father? Tell me."

"He's gone." She started weeping.

Houston held her close, feeling her tears against his shirt. "He's on an errand."

"No." Her voice was blurred with tears. "He's gone. He left this morning. He took a suitcase."

"Where? I ... This is crazy. Tell me what you heard."

"The desk clerk." She pushed back to face him, tear streaks on her cheeks. "This morning. No one knows what happened, but my father was nervous, talking to himself. He couldn't do his work. He told the staff to do their jobs without him he'd be back in a few days, perhaps a week. He made some phone calls from his office. Then he packed his suitcase and he left."

The monitors kept humming. For the first time Pete was conscious of their sound.

But then Simone began to weep, and he heard only her agony. He forced her to him, held her tightly, stroking at her hair. "It could mean nothing. Business problems."

"Don't you see the pattern? Don't you know what made him act that way?" He shook his head.

She pulled away from him. "My note. I told him I was leaving with you. I was helping you, I said. And helping me. I didn't have a choice, I said. I hoped he'd understand."

"My G.o.d. Last night."

"He wanted me to stay away from you. We thought he was only being fatherly, protective."

"But he wasn't. He knew what we faced. He's always known. Since he first heard I was looking for Pierre de St. Laurent."

"He didn't think they'd try to kill me too. He's gone to beg Verlaine. To plead with them to spare my life. Our fathers. Not just yours but mine. They're both involved in this."

"But he made phone calls," Henri said.

They turned, bewildered, as if he spoke neither French nor English but an arcane language.

"What?" Pete said.

"He made phone calls. From his office," Henri said.

"That's right," Simone replied.

"He packed a bag. He said he'd be gone for several days."

"What of it?" Houston said. "I don't see how that helps us."

"Think. He didn't stay in town. He traveled somewhere."

"I still don't "

"The phone calls must have been long distance. They'll be billed. We'll get the numbers from the telephone computers," Henri said.

Houston gaped. The monitors began to wail.

Chapter 33.

Houston flinched as if a knife had struck him in the chest. He jerked abruptly toward the sound, a high-pitched strident shriek that rose and fell. "What is it?"

"The security alarm." Henri's eyes narrowed. He drew his handgun.

The monitors kept wailing. Houston clutched at futile hope. "The system's malfunctioning."

"Impossible. I built it." Henri took three steps and reached the monitors.

Simone grabbed Houston's arm. He felt the pressure of her fingers.

"Someone's coming through the forest." Henri pointed toward one monitor. "The south." He gestured toward the farthest wall.

A band of light swept in a circle on the wide blue screen. A yellow dot crept upward from the bottom.

Henri aimed a finger toward a red spot in the middle of the screen. "That's us.

The hilltop. Read the screen the way you would a map. The top is north, the bottom's south. The right and left are east and west."

The dot kept moving upward from the south. "An animal," Pete said.

"Impossible," Henri said. "All the sensors are adjusted to respond to size and weight and body heat. Especially to body heat. The only thing capable of triggering the sensors is a person."

"But whoever's in the forest doesn't have to be a threat," Simone insisted. "A camper or a hiker maybe."

"We'll soon know. The dot's at the fence."

"And if it's touched?"

"The metal is electrified."

"To stun?"

"To kill."

Simone's widened eyes revealed what Houston had been feeling. "But whoever's down there could be innocent," she said.

"We can't risk being wrong."

A second siren shrieked, louder than the first. Simone whirled in a panic.

"There's your answer," Henri told them. "At the fence. Whoever's down there wasn't stopped."

The dot was moving higher from the bottom.

"But you said the fence was charged."

"He came prepared. He knows precisely what he's doing."

Houston watched how Henri clutched the gun, his hand so tight his knuckles whitened. "Stop him," Houston said.

"Machine guns will shoot him the moment he gets halfway through the clearing toward the lodge. They're s.p.a.ced so their line of fire intersects. The hill itself is mined, except for the driveway. He'll be stopped. Don't worry. There's no cover on that slope."

But Houston wondered why, if they shouldn't worry, Henri's breath was hoa.r.s.e and rapid. When another siren started wailing, Houston had his answer. While they were protected in here, they were also trapped. The western sector of the screen now showed a second dot, also moving toward the center.