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Korolev’s voice came over the radio again, shouting in Russian, “Get out of there! Lights are back on in the main house.”

The woman spun toward the door. “Who the hell are you?”

Reflexively, Ruddy raised the can and sprayed her in the face.

She coughed and sputtered, “What the...” then crumpled to the floor.

On the radio, Korolev said, “Did you hear me?”

Ruddy pressed the talk button. “Yes. I found her, boss.”

“Where is she?”

“Lying on her bathroom floor. I sprayed her.”

“Okay, okay. Good. Get her out of there. Quick. I’ll bring the car around.”

Ruddy carried her over his shoulder to the building entrance, with Malic right behind him. The moment Korolev drove up, they hurried to the sedan, and got in with the woman.

Once they gone far enough that Korolev felt sure no one had followed them, he parked on a quiet side street, and turned to the back seat.

“Let me see her face,” he said.

Ruddy moved away her hair, and Korolev stared in disbelief. “That’s not her!”

“What?” Ruddy said.

“Did I stutter?”

Ruddy looked at the unconscious woman. “She fits the description.”

“Yeah. Of the other woman. That’s not Matilda Martin. Fuck, Ruddy. What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry. I–I got mixed up, I guess.”

“You think?” Korolev ran his fingers through his hair.

“What should we do with her, then?” Ruddy asked.

“Good question.” Korolev glared at him. “What do you think we should do?”

“I don’t know. I guess we could kill her and dump her somewhere.”

“That all depends. Did she see you before you sprayed her?”

Ruddy realized if he said yes, he’d be in more trouble than he already was. “Uh, no. She... she never saw me.”

Korolev studied him. “You’d better be telling me the truth.”

“I am,” Ruddy said.

“So,” Malic said, “what are we going to do with her?”

“Not make this an even bigger mess than it already is,” Korolev said, then pulled the car from the curb.

Chapter 35

The Times and the Post arrived with breakfast the following morning. Both hinted that a big-time arrest by the feds was in the offing. Tomorrow, it would be headlines, Stone thought.

Joan buzzed. “Alexei Gromyko on one for you.”

Stone picked up, trying to sound casual. “Hello?”

“Have you done something that can’t be undone?” the Greek asked.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Stone said, keeping his voice steady. He wasn’t sure if Gromyko was talking about Trench or Greco or both.

“I believe you do.”

“Mr. Gromyko,” Stone said wearily, “do you have a point to make?”

“When I do, you’ll know it,” Gromyko said, then hung up.

Stone immediately called the Waldorf Towers and asked for Peter Greco.

“I’m sorry,” the operator said. “That party checked out early this morning.”

“Thank you.” Stone hung up and called Tom Kinder.

“Assistant Director Kinder.”

“It’s Stone. Have you heard from Peter Greco this morning?”

“No, we dropped him off at his suite door last evening. I had intended on leaving agents to guard his room, but Greco worried that would bring more attention to his presence. We compromised with leaving a couple agents in the lobby.”

“Then I take it your agents didn’t see him check out early this morning.”

“No, they did not,” Kinder said. “I’ll send my agents up to have a look at his suite. I’ll get back to you.” He hung up.

Joan buzzed again. “Herb Fisher on one for you.”

Stone picked up. “Good morning, Herb.”

“Not yet. What have you done with my associate?”

“Nothing at all.”

“She hasn’t shown up for work this morning, and she didn’t call. Normally, she’s meticulous in her work habits.”

“I saw her last evening when we finished work. That was about nine pm. I’ll see what I can find out.”

He buzzed Joan.

“Yes?”

“Carly is MIA. See if you can find her.”

“Righty-o.” Joan hung up.

Stone buzzed Fred.

“Yes, sir?”

“Have you seen Carly this morning?”

“No, I didn’t drive her anywhere.”

“Is her car still in the garage?”

“It is,” Fred said.

Stone played at working for another hour, then the phone rang.

“Assistant Director Kinder on one.”

Stone picked up. “Tom?”

“My guys went through Greco’s suite with a fine-tooth comb. Nothing to indicate foul play, or anything else.”

“Carly Riggs is out of pocket, too. She should be at Woodman & Weld, but she’s not. If either she or Greco were missing, I’d be concerned. Right now, I’m starting to feel panicky.”

“I’ll put out an APB for our New York office, but that’s not a lot of people on the street.”

“I’ll get back to you,” Stone said. He hung up and dialed Dino.

“Bacchetti.”

“I’ve got two missing persons on my hands,” Stone said.

“Anybody I know?”

“Peter Greco and Carly Riggs. Greco is turning state’s evidence against Gromyko, so I doubt the Greek is happy the FBI is looking for him. That bit is confidential.”

“I heard nothing. You want an APB on both?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll call you back.” He hung up.

Joan was standing in the door. “I haven’t been able to locate Carly anywhere.”

“Go through her apartment and see if you can find any sort of communication with us — notes, lipstick on the mirrors, anything.”

Joan walked in fifteen minutes later. “Nothing,” she said. “But Carly has four very nice handbags; I saw them when she moved in. They’re all in the apartment, and she wouldn’t have left the building without one of them.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s a woman, and women don’t go anywhere without a handbag. Oh, and one of them had her wallet in it, and some money. That’s likely the one she intended to take with her.”

“Dino is on it,” Stone said. “He’s the best we can do.”

“I’ll wait for his call,” Joan said.

An hour later, Joan buzzed. “Carly on one.”

Stone yanked the receiver off the hook. “Carly, where are you?”

“On the corner of Fifty-Seventh and Third Avenue,” she said. “I had to borrow someone’s phone.”

“How did you get there?”

“A man came into my apartment last night and sprayed something in my face. I woke up about five minutes ago behind a dumpster and went to the street.”

“Do you see any cabs from where you are?”

“Yes! Be there soon.” She hung up.

Stone buzzed Joan. “Carly is on the way here in a cab. Keep watch for her, and go armed, just in case.”

“Gotcha!”

Stone grabbed a weapon from his desk drawer and ran to the front door of the house. He watched through the peephole, in case she got out there. Nothing.

Stone called Joan’s cell.

“No sign of her.”

“Here I am,” Carly said.

Stone turned to find her standing in the door of his office.

“I’m so relieved to see you,” Stone said.

“I’m relieved, too,” she replied.

He buzzed Joan. “Go pay for that cab out front and call everybody off the search for Carly,” he said.

Joan appeared in the doorway, and Stone held up a hand to stop her. “What happened?”

“I was kidnapped,” Carly said. “They hit me with some sort of spray and put me out. I woke up in an alley near Bloomingdale’s.”