Nathan stumped out the fifth cigarette he'd smoked in the last hour. His mood was dark and his face reflected that state with a veneer of angry wrinkles. Murray sat passively awaiting his next command, quite familiar with his superior's manners.

This particular session was prompted by the fact that the Agency hounds had muffed their assignment and allowed Richard to evade surveillance and still meet with Monique.

"A team of five trained watchers and they lost him! They never even really found him after the hotel." Nathan spat.

"Mister Carstairs was a formidable student, sir; you taught him well." Murray soothed.

"Too bloody well it seems." The phone rang and Nathan snatched it up barking his greeting. He remained stock still, staring into the middle distance as he listened to the caller.

"Sir?" Murray queried when Nathan hung up.

"Dalton Whycliffe has made a statement to the press that the Whycliffe Foundation will be ceasing operations with respect to the administration of any donations received. That will become the responsibility of the various applicant principals."

"That's not good news, sir."

"The son of a bitch has pushed us to the front of the line." Nathan fumed.

"Perhaps we were a little precipitous in dealing with Mister Killdrew." Murray observed.

"We should have kept Peter and eliminated Dalton." He snorted with disgust. "We need to speak with Monique. Now. She still has the contacts she controls. This might even work to our advantage." Nathan lit another cigarette and sucked half of it away in one gulp.

"Applicants will have to speak directly to us now . . . or at least to a representative of us." Nathan sat back staring at the dirty smoke cloud in front of his face. "Yes . . . actually this might work much better now that I think of it."

"Another thing, this Council business. It's not the first time that name has come up and I don't like what it implies. Is this some organization operating deeper than our own? Is it even one of ours?"

"Not sure, sir. Not sure what it is." Murray agreed.

"Put out some longer feelers, Murray."

******

Dupres blanched when he saw the face of Richard staring at him through the window of the gift shop. He turned back to the woman behind the counter and said something then made his way to the door.

"Hello, Jacques, writing more letters?"

"What! What do you mean? What do you want?"

His reaction to the innocent comment was so pronounced that Richard cast a longer glance through the window at the woman watching them.

"I'm here to ask you where else you meet Monique."

Jacques closed his eyes and sagged from the waist. "I have told you, the hotel."

"No. You told me that was where she met clients. When you report to her, where do you do that?"

"It's by the post . . ." He bit his lip and his eyes flicked to the store and back.

Richard suddenly realized why his comment had upset the man; this was their letter drop.

"Not the post, Jacques, this shop. Right?"

"No . . . " Futility set in and he flapped listless arms and hung his head.

"Let's go and have a chat with your friend inside."

The woman stiffened as they approached the counter. Her eyes took in Richard with a cold disdain and then settled on Jacques sympathetically.

"Cher, give him the letter." Jacques leaned on the counter and buried his head in his hands. Richard accepted the envelope and smiled a thank you at the wooden countenance. He opened it and read the brief message noting that it asked if she had encountered the man previously described . . . Richard.

The other information related to the men at her table the previous day, their activities and their itinerary.

"Very thorough, Jacques. Just when did you describe me to Monique?"

The groan brought a compassionate touch on the shoulder from the woman. He turned his head and pleaded with red, watery eyes.

"I contacted her." The woman straightened again, arms folded defensively and chin raised. "On her cell phone after you bullied Jacques." Another groan from Jacques.

Richard gave her a thoughtful stare. That meant Monique knew about him before they met in the hotel. So she must have alerted the Agency hounds right away and then allowed him to observe her acting ability and to set a meeting knowing they would have him when they followed her to the Bistro.

"Interesting. Very interesting." Richard took the letter and stuck it in his pocket. "One word from either of you about me to anyone . . . anyone . . . and I will return."

There was no need to say what would happen it was printed on his face and modified by his tone.

"I swear." Jacques begged. "Do not harm her." His concern for the woman gave Richard a moment's pause. She wasn't part of the network Monique used, she was just doing a favour for a very dear friend or perhaps a lover.

"Don't give me cause." He nodded briefly and left the shop. A second later he popped back inside.

"Deliver this as usual, no extra information or warnings, Jacques. Remember." He tossed the letter across the shop and left.

******

Murray stepped from behind the wrought iron gate and blocked Monique's entrance to the secluded inn to where she had fled eluding the Agency hounds . . . or so she thought.

"How did you know where to find me?"

"Mister Fischer is waiting upstairs." He took her arm and began steering her toward the door.

"Richard is here, in town." She offered as a token of co-operation. Murray nodded and led her up the narrow stairs to the room at the rear of the inn.

"Mister Fischer will be pleased to hear." He opened the door and gave her an unceremonious push inside.

"Ah, Monique." Nathan rose, butting his cigarette as he did. "Welcome home. Nice place you've chosen." He pretended to admire the dated décor and the almost dingy ambiance.

"How did you find me here?"

"Certainly not through the auspices of those dolts we had following you." He took out another cigarette and fired it up from a large wooden match he took from the shelf over the false fireplace. "I like these pictures." Nathan waved his cigarette at a cluster of small oil paintings over the mantel.

"How?" She was truly perplexed over the fact that first of all they found her and second, how quickly."

"Trade secret I'm afraid. And not really important anymore. Sit down, Monique; we need to have a chat." Nathan returned to the chair he was in and waited until she settled on a single wooden side chair. "Some tea, Murray?"

"Right away, sir." Murray vanished through an archway into the small housekeeping kitchen.

Nathan considered Monique through a veil of smoke, the poise, even under stress, the features that had made her a formidable network operator and a modern day Circe. Only instead of turning men into swine, she turned them into acolytes willing to do her bidding for the promise of suggested possibilities.

"We are prepared to make an accommodation for your services, Monique." He began from behind the grey film of smoke.

Surprise registered on her face before she could adjust and she attempted to turn it into a smile.

"Accommodation?"

"Yes. As I'm sure you are aware, since Richard is no longer active with the Foundation there has become an awkward gap in the sequence of its business transactions."

Monique relaxed. She knew exactly what was coming. Word had reached her about Dalton's closing of the Foundation and the Agency was well out on a financial limb with certain parties relying on it.

"He was an astute businessman. I can see where his absence could leave a gap."

"A little too astute actually." Nathan said cryptically, lighting another cigarette from the first as Murray carried a tray into the room. With excellent style and manners he first offered it to Monique and then set it beside Nathan.

"This accommodation?" Gaining confidence, Monique relaxed and let her posture suggest a climate for their discussion. Nathan had always been one to appreciate the benefits and side deals of any negotiation and she was ready to employ any advantage that would afford her protection from Agency actions.

He waved away the screen in front of his face and gave her a reptilian grin, admiring her crossed legs. Murray shifted slightly on his chair as he recognized the subtleties coming into play.

"We would like you to assume Richard's role along with your own current activities. I'm sure you can appreciate since- hum- Richard has turned rogue, that we need someone to coordinate the entire transaction system."

Monique took time to taste her tea and ponder Nathan's request.

"The last time we negotiated anything you were accusing me and Richard of stealing your money." Her eyes sought his.

"That's a topic for another day, my dear." She saw right away the inference.

"You mean if I agree you won't be accusing me anymore?"

"Well now, my dear, as far as our last meeting . . . well . . . things change."

"So you believe me."

He grunted and dragged heavily on his cigarette. "Only some things have changed, my dear, and the part about you agreeing I'm afraid, is really non negotiable."

Monique glanced at Murray and felt her skin tingle at his bland stare.

"How do I approach all these different sources and contacts, I don't know any beyond my own sphere and it seems two of them have−" Nathan's stare froze her temporarily. ". . . Retired?"

"That's a matter for us to manage; the point is we can't let the network slip into idle. Too many things can go wrong when people have uncertain time on their hands."

"Why me, why didn't you use Richard, you didn't have to alienate him?"

"Richard is, or I should really say was already becoming a bit of a loose wire. We still feel he has established a nest egg with our money somewhere and he is only contacting you because you gave him up about Toronto. Richard wants to know what we know."

"And what exactly is that?" She placed her tea on a side table and clasped her hands about her knee. This sounded promising. If what Nathan said was true they didn't necessarily believe she was part of the skimming.

"That you both spent considerable time together and that indeed you both did set up a special account for the funds you siphoned from the donations." Nathan finished his own tea and lit another cigarette.

She felt something inside slide away and she tightened her grip on her knee. So much for exoneration.

"I told you, that was Richard. He wanted me to run away with him--"

"Please, my dear, protesting culpability is quite a waste of time. We know, Monique." Nathan slid a look at Murray and her sliding feeling increased. "Richard has some answers to provide and he will, but right now we are tasked with maintaining the network of clients receiving the donations." Nathan sucked on his cigarette and composed a patronizing face.

"We will give you some names, names that Richard would have been given to interview as contacts. When you have established a new conduit we will get back to your little scheme with Richard."

She sat back and featured a petulant expression. "How many times must we do this Nathan. I don't have your money."

"But you do have access to it." The voice lost its social tenor, matching the cold light in his eyes.

"Nathan-"

"We have finished playing this charade, Monique. You will continue with your distributions and the new role of vetting. You will take whatever meeting Richard attempts next and you will find a way to release those funds to him. You didn't do that already did you, my dear?"

"No! I mean- I told you, Nathan-" His grim smile sealed her error permanently. "You could have had him when he contacted me at the hotel." Panic slipped into her reply.

"It was an unfortunate choice of action on our part. Now we are rectifying that error. We want Richard and the money my sweet. If it was just the money . . . well . . ." He glanced at Murray.

She felt sick. "I don't know how to reach him, besides he'll know something is rotten. It won't work."

"In that case, my dear the negotiation we discussed will be moot and therefore so will you."

Murray stood and began gathering the tea things and his movement caused her to flinch.

"But then you'll have nothing!"

"We may not have you, my dear but we'll get Richard at some point."

Monique's eyes strayed to the kitchen and she saw Murray smiling at her as he dried the dishes.

"We have rebuilt before, if necessary we can do it again. However, it would be in your best interest to see that isn't necessary. Find Richard . . . soon."