Teddy waved it away. “Oh, sure, sure. Quiet as a mouse.” He draped his arm around Fahd’s shoulders as if they were best friends, and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “When can we buy the dog?”
“You cannot buy the dog.”
“Of course I can. If you have money, you can buy anything. So when can we bid on him?”
“Did you not hear me? The dog is not for sale.”
“I know. The dog is only for special people. People with money. That would be me. That would be you. You couldn’t outbid me for the rhino. Think you can outbid me for the dog?”
“You are drunk. You make no sense,” Fahd said. He deliberately turned his back.
Teddy gave up without learning when the dog would be sold, but Fahd’s answers had told him two things: there was such an auction, and Fahd didn’t want him at it.
72.
DINO LOOKED AROUND Teddy’s bare, depressing apartment. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”
“Yeah. I keep meaning to decorate, but I’ve been busy.”
“Who are you, now? Fenton Towne? That’s the guy I rented the apartment for.”
“No, actually I’m Devon Billingham.”
“Who’s that?”
“The guy with the Paris bank account. He also has a room at the Pierre.”
“Why can’t I stay there?”
“You can get a room there, if you want, but you can’t stay in mine. The hotel staff is already wondering why I rented it.”
“Why did you rent it?”
“To keep my equipment in their safe. There’s nowhere here I feel comfortable leaving it.”
“I can understand that.”
“So who knows you’re here?”
“Stone Barrington.”
“Anyone else?”
“Just my wife.”
“Viv knows you went to Paris?”
“She doesn’t know why.”
“Well, don’t feel so virtuous for not telling her. You don’t know why.”
“She wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“She works for Mike Freeman.”
“Even him.” Dino cocked his head. “So, why can’t you let Lance in on this?”
“He wouldn’t approve of my mode of operation.”
“Would I?”
“I doubt it.”
“Why not?”
“Probably the body count.”
Dino gave him a look.
“Relax. There’s no collateral damage here. There’s no one who didn’t deserve it.”
“Why wouldn’t Lance be okay with that?”
“It would take too long to explain to his satisfaction. By then the whole thing would have gotten away from me.”
“What’s this all about?”
Teddy smiled. “Where to begin? Do you know a man named Rene Darjon?”
“The Silver Fox?”
“Why does everyone know that but me?”
“I’m the commissioner of police in New York City. You work in motion pictures.”
“Good point. I’ve been out of the loop. I liked being out of the loop.”
“What about Rene Darjon?”
“He’s one end of the operation.”
“How is he involved?”
“He owns the dog.”
Dino blinked.
Teddy filled him in on what he knew, and what he thought. It took close to a half hour.
When Teddy was done, Dino took a big breath. “How do you know all this?”
“I don’t know all this. A lot of it I just surmise.”
“You think Rene Darjon invented a deadly virus in his research labs? You think he used it to create a biological weapon, and plans to sell it in the midst of an illicit auction hidden in a conservation convention? The prospective buyers include Russia, Syria, China, and Palestine.”
“That’s the gist.”
“You don’t think this merits being brought to Lance’s attention?”
“He’d never act on an unfounded series of hunches. He’d send out reconnaissance teams and wind up blowing the whole operation. The CIA is fine, in a bull-in-a-China-shop sort of way, but they can’t possibly infiltrate this convention without standing out like sore thumbs. I’m already inside. If anyone’s got a chance of keeping that virus out of the hands of our enemies, it’s me. So I’m not turning the operation over to some well-meaning suit who doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
“What do you need me for?”
“I can’t handle both ends of the operation. I have my eye on the buyers. I need you to handle the sellers. Specifically, Rene Darjon. I need you to nail Rene Darjon. I want his biological weapons laboratory out of commission.”
“You want me to catch the Silver Fox?”
“Of course not. You have no authority. It would have to be the French police.”
“You want me to talk to the prefect?”
“I thought you might have lunch.”
“I see,” Dino said. “You got me here under false pretenses.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You don’t want me to do something, you want me to be a messenger boy. You have a story you can’t tell the police because it would sound like the ravings of a lunatic. So you want me to tell the story to the police so I sound like a raving lunatic.”
“Not at all.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re not going to tell them that story.”
“What am I going to tell them?”
“I’ll think of something.”
“You want me to lie to the police?”
“No, I want you to tell them a simplified version of the truth that will make sense and they’ll believe. Then you can get them to arrest the Silver Fox.”
“They’re not going to take kindly to an American policeman showing up and telling them their job.”
Teddy smiled. “That depends on how you phrase it.”