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Reine-Marie became absolutely, completely still. They were alone now. Far away from the shouts of laughter, the clink of cutlery, the scraping of chairs on marble floors. The murmurs of discreet waiters. Far away from the familiar.

It was just the two of them, in the wilderness.

“Daniel’s bank?” she whispered.

“Oui.”

“So Daniel knew, knows, what they were doing?”

“I don’t think so. I doubt Stephen would’ve told him. There was no reason for Daniel to know. And the less he knew, the better.”

“Why would Stephen involve Daniel at all? If he thought it was dangerous, why in the world would he drag Daniel into it?”

“He wouldn’t. I think at the time, six weeks or so ago, the only danger Stephen probably saw was that his carefully laid plan would collapse. That he’d fail. But he’d never have thought any of this would happen.”

“Five weeks ago Daniel’s name was put on the archive request for Stephen’s war file. That’s no coincidence. Something happened. Someone noticed.”

Armand exhaled. “I think you’re right. Stephen miscalculated. As soon as they threatened him with that file, he knew he had to be more careful. Which was why when he came to Paris he stayed at the George V. Laid low.”

“But still they got him. Monsieur Plessner’s dead and Stephen’s in a coma. Oh, God, Armand, is Daniel in danger?”

“No. If they were going to hurt him, it would’ve been that same night they attacked Plessner and Stephen.” He took her hand. It was freezing cold. “They’re setting him up, but they need him alive for that. They won’t hurt him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. He’s safe. Especially if he can be convinced to go to Commander Fontaine and tell her about Alexander Plessner and the venture capital. That will prove to them he has no idea what’s really happening.”

Reine-Marie snatched up her phone. “I’m going to call and make him do it.”

But he stopped her. “Let’s get in a taxi. Call from there.”

Reine-Marie strode down the long corridor, almost breaking into a run.

“Hôpital Hôtel-Dieu, s’il vous plaît,” said Armand.

Reine-Marie had the phone to her ear and was listening to the ringing. Ringing.

Paris slid by, unseen.

She looked at Armand, who was watching her. “No answer.”

“Try again.”

She did. Still no answer. The hospital was up ahead. She called Roslyn, who confirmed that Daniel had left a couple of hours earlier, but she hadn’t heard from him. And no, she didn’t know where he’d gone.

“Armand?” said Reine-Marie.

“We’ll find him.”

His mind was racing. Where could Daniel be? He’d been so sure, genuinely certain, that SecurForte, or whoever was behind all this, needed Daniel alive.

Didn’t they?

Dear God, didn’t they?

The taxi pulled up to the entrance to the hospital. Armand was on the phone. He no longer cared if he was giving himself away.

“Claude? Armand. Can you tell me if there’re any reports of violent crimes in the last couple of hours?” He was pale as he asked, holding on to Reine-Marie’s eyes. “Accidents? Where?” He held up his hand to reassure Reine-Marie. “Merci. No, just checking. Merci.”