"It seems that Mr. Gregg offered a range of assassination services," Croft said. There was a stack of money, secured by a rubber band, and he counted it. "Thirty-nine grand," he said. There was also a plain white envelope containing only hundreds. "Twenty-five grand," he said. "I'll bet that's the first half of the payment for Eagle's airplane. We'd better check the envelope for prints."

Croft put the envelope into a plastic evidence bag. "You know," he said, "it was a good plan. Gregg could have walked down to the beach, waited for the airplane to take off, then dialed the number. The airplane would have crashed into the Pacific Ocean and broken apart. It would have taken a major operation to recover it and check for evidence, and we would have found nothing useful. But somebody dials a wrong number, and blooey! The assassin is assassinated."

"I guess we better go talk to Mrs. Grosvenor," Morales said.

"Not until we see if we can lift a print from this envelope," Morales said, holding up the evidence bag.

- TWO HOURS LATER, they had a thumbprint and a name: Barbara Eagle.

"She was tried for the murder of a Mafia-connected guy at the Bel-Air Hotel," Croft said. "Thought it was Ed Eagle. She was acquitted. Weird thing is, she escaped from the courthouse while the jury was deliberating and later had to plead to the escape. Let's go see her."

- THEY PRESENTED THEMSELVES at the front desk of the Bel-Air Hotel and identified themselves. "Mr. and Mrs. Grosvenor checked out at eleven this morning," the desk clerk told them.

"You got a home address for them?" Morales asked.

The woman checked. "Twelve Eaton Place, London SW1," she said.

"London, England?"

"That's correct."

"Was that their destination when they checked out?"

"I assume so," she said.

"Has their room been cleaned yet?"

"I'll call housekeeping." She made the call. "Yes, and a new arrival has checked in."

Morales thanked her, and they left. "You got the address of that house in Bel-Air that the Grosvenors made an offer on?"

Croft checked his notebook. "Here we are-it's over on Copa de Oro."

"Let's see what we can find there."

- THE HOUSE WAS impressive without being ostentatious. Morales rang the bell, and a uniformed houseman came to the door. Badges were flashed. "Is the owner at home?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, if you'll come in and wait a moment. He's on the tennis court, I believe."

"Just take us out there," Morales said. "What's his name?"

"Simpson," the man replied, then led the way.

Two middle-aged men were banging away on the tennis court. One of them came over after a point. "What's up?" he asked.

Badges were flashed again, and Morales introduced himself and Croft. "Mr. Simpson, I understand that you had an offer on your house from a Mr. and Mrs. Charles Grosvenor. Is that correct?"

"That is correct."

"Did you accept the offer?"

"I made a counteroffer. They wanted to think it over."

"When did you last see them?"

Simpson looked at his watch. "About an hour ago," he said.

"Do you know where they went when they left?"

"They said they were going home."

"Home to England?"

"I assume so."

"Do you happen to know on what airline they were traveling?"

"During our conversation, there was passing mention of a private jet," Simpson replied.

"Do you know what kind of jet?"

"No, but it would have to be a fairly big one for an Atlantic crossing."

"Did they mention an airport?"

"Yes, they said they were flying out of Burbank."

"Thank you, Mr. Simpson."

The two detectives left the house and headed for Burbank. Forty minutes later they were in the airport's tower.

"May I help you, gentlemen?"

"I hope so," Morales said. "Have you had a departure today of a flight to London, England?"

The man went to a computer. "Nobody would file from here to London," he said, tapping some keys. "It would likely be for a general aviation airport near London, like Cambridge or Biggin Hill." He scrolled through the flight plans on file. "Nothing for England at all."

"Maybe they were refueling and filed for someplace in between?" Croft asked.

"I've got half a dozen flight plans for Teterboro, New Jersey. That's New York."

"May I have a list of the registration numbers?" Croft asked.

The man printed them out and handed them to the detective. "There you go. I can check the registrations if you like."

"I like," Croft said.

Shortly, he was handed a list of owners of the aircraft. "They're all corporations," Croft said. "Do you have a list of the owners?"

"Afraid not," the man said. "You'll have to do a legal search. A lot of airplanes are owned by Delaware corporations. You might start there."

"Well," Morales said, "I feel a dead end coming on."

"Let's go see an ADA," Croft said. "The print might be enough for an arrest warrant, maybe even for an extradition."

"Or maybe they'll send us to London," Croft said hopefully.

Morales had a thought. "Any departures for San Francisco today?"

"Let's see," he said, sitting down at the computer again. "Oakland would be the likely destination for a general aviation aircraft." He tapped some keys. "I've got two-a Citation and a Gulfstream IV. The GIV left an hour ago."

"Gotta be the Gulfstream," Croft said. "That's a transatlantic airplane. Let's go talk to Captain Clark. He'll spring for a San Francisco trip on a crime that's getting as much TV time as this one."

Stone was back at The Arrington in time for lunch, and he persuaded Ann to join him. He explained what had happened to Eagle's airplane.

"The ex-wife, then?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Will the police be able to do anything?"

"They're trying, but the only material witness is dead."

"It's time we talked," Ann said. "The president left for Washington right after breakfast this morning. Kate is waiting for the new campaign plane to be delivered-should be here tomorrow."

"Will you have to go with her?"

"We had a long talk this morning," Ann said. "I suggested that I might be of more use to her by continuing to work out of the New York office. She has a good travel team without me, so she bought that."

Stone broke into a big smile. "That's wonderful news," he said. "We can fly out of here tomorrow or the next day. We're waiting for the return of the Strategic Services aircraft-it's being flown back from Tokyo. So we'll have a couple of soft days."

"Not soft for me. I'll be on the telephone constantly."

"Move into my study and work here, then. The hotel will want the presidential cottage back."

"Okay, I'll do that. Listen, the Republican convention is next week, and Senator Henry Carson of Texas looks like he's taking the nomination. Our private polls show Kate leading all the obvious Republicans, except Carson, by double digits. She's leading him by eight points."

"That's good news."

"We believe we can take him, and I've already told you what my job is going to be if that happens."

Stone nodded.

"I'll make as much time for you as I can, but I can't make any promises. If she wins, all hell will break loose the day after the election, as I'll be running the transition team."

"And I'll get to Washington as often as I can," Stone said. "Something else: I have to go to Paris this fall for the opening of the new L'Arrington there, and I have some other business there, so I may be two or three weeks. Any chance you can do some of that with me?"

"I'd love to, God knows, but I just can't manage it. I can't even say I'll try."

"Well, if that's the price of getting Kate elected, I'll just have to live with it," Stone said ruefully.

"If it's any consolation, I'll have to live with it, too," Ann said.

The phone buzzed, and Stone picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hi, it's Ed. I just wanted you to know that we made it back okay."

"I'm sorry you couldn't wait and fly with us. You'd have liked the airplane."

"I already wish we'd done that. When we got back we found my office and house staked out by the press."

"Pick somebody you like and give him an exclusive interview. Everybody else will run it, but you'll have them out of your hair."

"Good idea. I've got just the reporter in mind. Anything in particular you want me to tell them?"

"Just stick to the truth, and you won't get accused of lying to Otero and Willingham."

"Okay. Thanks for your help this morning."

"Have you heard anything new from the cops?"

"Not a word. Everybody in the world wants to talk to me but them."

"That just means they don't have anything to tell you yet."

"I guess so. Can you stop for a few days in Santa Fe on your way back?"

"I'd love to, but Ann has to get back to her New York office. She's got a lot on her plate now."

"I guess she has. Susannah sends her love. Give ours to Ann."

They hung up.

"The Eagles send love," he said to Ann.

- DETECTIVES MORALES AND CROFT sat down across the desk from Captain Clark, and Croft slid a typed form across the desk.

"San Francisco?" the captain asked, feigning shock. "Is this a vacation request?"

"Cap, our only suspect is in San Francisco," Croft said. "The media are all over us on this thing, and we don't have anything to tell them."

"You actually think you're going to get something out of this Grosvenor woman?"

"We can only try."

"I remember her from her murder trial. I was the lead detective on that case, and she is the coldest, smoothest bitch I've ever laid eyes or ears on. She doesn't make mistakes."

"Nobody's lucky all the time," Morales said.