Tracy and Jeff had connecting rooms at the Amstel. "For the sake of respectability," Jeff had told Tracy, "but I won't let you get far from me."

"Promise?"

Each night Jeff stayed with her until early dawn, and they made love far into the night. He was a protean lover, by turns tender and considerate, wild and feral.

"It's the first time," Tracy whispered, "that I've really known what my body was for. Thank you, my love."

"The pleasure's all mine."

"Only half."

They roamed the city in an apparently aimless manner. They had lunch at the Excelsior in the Hotel de l'Europe and dinner at the Bowedery, and ate all twenty-two courses served at the Indonesian Bali. They had erwtensoep, Holland's famous pea soup; sampled kutspot, potatoes, carrots, and onions; and boerenkool met worst, made from thirteen vegetables and smoked sausage. They walked through the walletjes, the redlight district of Amsterdam, where fat, kimono-clad wh.o.r.es sat on the street windows displaying their ample wares; each evening the written report submitted to Inspector Joop van Duren ended with the same note: Nothing suspicious.

Patience, Daniel Cooper told himself. Patience.

At the urging of Cooper, Inspector van Duren went to Chief Commissioner Willems to ask permission to place electronic eavesdropping devices in the hotel rooms of the two suspects. Permission was denied.

"When you have more substantial grounds for your suspicions," the chief commissioner said, "come back to me. Until then, I cannot permit you to eavesdrop on people who are so far guilty only of touring Holland."

That conversation had taken place on Friday. On Monday morning Tracy and Jeff went to Paulus Potter Straat in Coster, the diamond center of Amsterdam, to visit the Nederlands Diamond-Cutting Factory. Daniel Cooper was a part of the surveillance team. The factory was crowded with tourists. An English-speaking guide conducted them around the factory, explaining each operation in the cutting process, and at the end of the tour led the group to a large display room, where showcases filled with a variety of diamonds for sale lined the walls. This of course was the ultimate reason visitors were given a tour of the factory. In the center of the room stood a gla.s.s case dramatically mounted on a tall, black pedestal, and inside the case was the most exquisite diamond Tracy had ever seen.

The guide announced proudly, "And here, ladies and gentlemen, is the famous Lucullan diamond you have all read about. It was once purchased by a stage actor for his movie star wife and is valued at ten million dollars. It is a perfect stone, one of the finest diamonds in the world."

"That must be quite a target for jewel thieves," Jeff said aloud.

Daniel Cooper moved forward so he could hear better.

The guide smiled indulgently. "Nee, mijnheer." He nodded toward the armed guard standing near the exhibit. "This stone is more closely guarded than the jewels in the Tower of London. There is no danger. If anyone touches that gla.s.s case, an alarm rings--- en onmiddellijk!--- and every window and door in this room is instantly sealed off. At night electronic beams are on, and if someone enters the room, an alarm sounds at police headquarters."

Jeff looked at Tracy and said, "I guess no one's ever going to steal that diamond."

Cooper exchanged a look with one of the detectives. That afternoon Inspector van Duren was given a report of the conversation.

The following day Tracy and Jeff visited the Rijksmuseum. At the entrance, Jeff purchased a directory plan of the museum, and he and Tracy pa.s.sed through the main hall to the Gallery of Honor, filled with Fra Angelicos, Murillos, Rubenses, Van Dycks, and Tiepolos. They moved slowly, pausing in front of each painting, and then walked into the Night Watch Room, where Rembrandt's most famous painting hung. There they stayed. And the attractive Constable First-Cla.s.s Fien Hauer, who was following them, thought to herself, Oh, my G.o.d!

The official t.i.tle of the painting is The Company of Captain Franc Banning Cocq and Lieutenant Willem van Ruytenburch, and it portrays, with extraordinary clarity and composition, a group of soldiers preparing to go on their watch, under the command of their colorfully uniformed captain. The area around the portrait was roped off with velvet cords, and a guard stood nearby.

"It's hard to believe," Jeff told Tracy, "but Rembrandt caught h.e.l.l for this painting."

"But why? It's fantastic."

"His patron--- the captain in the painting--- didn't like the attention Rembrandt paid to the other figures." Jeff turned to the guard. "I hope this is well protected."

"Ja, mijnheer. Anyone who tries to steal anything from this museum would have to get by electronic beams, security cameras, and, at night, two guards with patrol dogs."

Jeff smiled easily. "I guess this painting is going to stay here forever."

Late that afternoon the exchange was reported to Van Duren. "The Night Watch!" he exclaimed. "Alstublieft, impossible!"

Daniel Cooper merely blinked at him with his wild, myopic eyes.

At the Amsterdam Convention Center, there was a meeting of philatelists, and Tracy and Jeff were among the first to arrive. The hall was heavily guarded, for many of the stamps were priceless. Cooper and a Dutch detective watched as the two visitors wandered through the rare-stamp collection. Tracy and Jeff paused in front of the British Guiana, an unattractive magenta, six-sided stamp.

"What an ugly stamp," Tracy observed.

"Don't knock it, darling. It's the only stamp of its kind in the world."

"What's it worth?"

"One million dollars."

The attendant nodded. "That is correct, sir. Most people would have no idea, just looking at it. But I see that you, sir, love these stamps, as I do. The history of the world is in them."

Tracy and Jeff moved on to the next case and looked at an Inverted Jenny stamp that portrayed an airplane flying upside down.

"That's an interesting one," Tracy said.

The attendant guarding the stamp case said, "It's worth---"

"Seventy-five thousand dollars," Jeff remarked.

"Yes, sir. Exactly."

They moved on to a Hawaiian Missionary two-cent blue.

"That's worth a quarter of a million dollars," Jeff told Tracy.

Cooper was following closely behind them now, mingling with the crowd.

Jeff pointed to another stamp. "Here's a rare one. The one-pence Mauritius post office. Instead of 'postpaid,' some daydreaming engraver printed 'post office.' It's worth a lot of pence today."

"They all seem so small and vulnerable," Tracy said, "and so easy to walk away with."

The guard at the counter smiled. "A thief wouldn't get very far, miss. The cases are all electronically wired, and armed guards patrol the convention center day and night."

"That's a great relief," Jeff said earnestly. "One can't be too careful these days, can one?"

That afternoon Daniel Cooper and Inspector Joop van Duren called on Chief Commissioner Willems together. Van Duren placed the surveillance reports on the commissioner's desk and waited.

"There's nothing definite here," the chief commissioner finally said, "but I'll admit that your suspects seem to be sniffing around some very lucrative targets. All right, Inspector. Go ahead. You have official permission to place listening devices in their hotel rooms."

Daniel Cooper was elated. There would be no more privacy for Tracy Whitney. From this point on, he would know everything she was thinking, saying, and doing. He thought about Tracy and Jeff together in bed, and remembered the feel of Tracy's underwear against his cheek. So soft, so sweet-smelling.

That afternoon he went to church.

When Tracy and Jeff left the hotel for dinner that evening, a team of police technicians went to work, planting tiny wireless transmitters in Tracy's and Jeff's suites, concealing them behind pictures, in lamps, and under bedside tables.

Inspector Joop van Duren had commandeered the suite on the floor directly above, and there a technician installed a radio receiver with an antenna and plugged in a recorder.

"It's voice activated," the technician explained. "No one has to be here to monitor it. When someone speaks, it wi automatically begin to record."

But Daniel Cooper wanted to be there. He had to be then It was G.o.d's will.

Chapter 33.

Early the following morning Daniel Cooper, Inspector Joop van Duren, and his young a.s.sistant, Detective Constable Witkamp, were in the upstairs suite listening to the conversation below.

"More coffee?" Jeff's voice.

"No, thank you, darling." Tracy's voice. "Try this cheese that room service sent up. It's really wonderful."

A short silence. "Mmmm. Delicious. What would you like to do today, Tracy? We could take a drive to Rotterdam."

"Why don't we just stay in and relax?"

"Sounds good."

Daniel Cooper knew what they meant by "relax," and his mouth tightened.

"The queen is dedicating a new home for orphans."

"Nice. I think the Dutch are the most hospitable, generous people in the world. They're iconoclasts. They hate rules and regulations."

A laugh. "Of course. That's why we both like them so much."

Ordinary morning conversation between lovers. They're so free and easy with each other, Cooper thought. But how she would pay!

"Speaking of generous"--- Jeff's voice--- "guess who's staying at this hotel? The elusive Maximilian Pierpont. I missed him on the QE Two."

"And I missed him on the Orient Express."

"He's probably here to rape another company. Now that we've found him again, Tracy, we really should do something about him. I mean, as long as he's in the neighborhood..."

Tracy's laughter. "I couldn't agree more, darling."

"I understand our friend is in the habit of carrying priceless artifacts with him. I have an idea that---"

Another voice, female. "Dag, mijnheer, dag, mevrouw. Would you care for your room to be made up now?"

Van Duren turned to Detective Constable Witkamp. "I want a surveillance team on Maximilian Pierpont. The moment Whitney or Stevens makes any kind of contact with him, I want to know it."

Inspector van Duren was reporting to Chief Commissioner Toon Willems.

"They could be after any number of targets, Chief Commissioner. They're showing a great deal of interest in a wealthy American here named Maximilian Pierpont, they attended the philatelist convention, they visited the Lucullan diamond at the Nederlands Diamond-Cutting Factory, and spent two hours at The Night Watch---"

"Een diefstal van de Nachtwacht? Nee! Impossible!"

The chief commissioner sat back in his chair and wondered whether he was recklessly wasting valuable time and manpower. There was too much speculation and not enough facts. "So at the moment you have no idea what their target is."

"No, Chief Commissioner. I'm not certain they themselves have decided. But the moment they do, they will inform us."

Willems frowned. "Inform you?"

"The bugs," Van Duren explained. "They have no idea they are being bugged."

The breakthrough for the police came at 9:00 A.M. the following morning. Tracy and Jeff were finishing breakfast in Tracy's suite. At the listening post upstairs were Daniel Cooper, Inspector Joop van Duren, and Detective Constable Witkamp. They heard the sound of coffee being poured.

"Here's an interesting item, Tracy. Our friend was right. Listen to this: 'Amro Bank is shipping five million dollars in gold bullion to the Dutch West Indies.' "

In the suite on the floor above, Detective Constable Witkamp said, "There's no way---"

"Shh!"

They listened.

"I wonder how much five million dollars in gold would weigh?" Tracy's voice.

"I can tell you exactly, my darling. One thousand six hundred seventy-two pounds, about sixty-seven gold bars. The wonderful thing about gold is that it's so beautifully anonymous. You melt it down and it could belong to anybody. Of course, it wouldn't be easy to get those bars out of Holland."

"Even if we could, how would we get hold of them in the first place? Just walk into the bank and pick them up?"

"Something like that."

"You're joking."

"I never joke about that kind of money. Why don't we just stroll by the Amro Bank, Tracy, and have a little look?"

"What do you have in mind?"