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〃Merci。〃
〃And Room three…eleven。〃
Grangier stopped。 〃What？〃
〃The countess also has a room adjoining her suite。〃
〃Oh？ Who occupies it？〃
〃No one。〃
〃No one？ Are you sure？〃
〃Oui； monsieur。 She keeps it locked。 The maids have been ordered to keep out。〃
A puzzled frown appeared on Grangier's face。 〃You have a passkey？〃
〃Of course。〃 Without an instant's hesitation； the concierge reached under the desk for a passkey and handed it to Armand Grangier。 Jules watched as Armand Grangier walked toward the elevator。 One never argued with a man like Grangier。
When Armand Grangier reached the door of the baroness's suite； he found it ajar。 He pushed it open and entered。 The living room was deserted。 〃Hello。 Anyone here？〃
A feminine voice from another room sang out； 〃I'm in the bath。 I'll be with you in a minute。 Please help yourself to a drink。〃
Grangier wandered around the suite； familiar with its furnishings； tbr over the years he had arranged for many of his friends to stay in the hotel。 He strolled into the bedroom。 Expensive jewelry was carelessly spread out on a dressing table。
〃I won't be a minute；〃 the voice called out from the bathroom。
〃No hurry； Baroness。〃
Baroness mon cul！ he thought angrily。 Whatever little game you're playing； chérie； is going to backfire。 He walked over to the door that connected to the adjoining room。 It was locked。 Grangier took out the passkey and opened the door。 The room he stepped into had a musty； unused smell。 The concierge had said that no one occupied it。 Then why did she need…？ Grangier's eye was caught by something oddly out of place。 A heavy black electrical cord attached to a wall socket snaked along the length of the floor and disappeared into a closet。 The door was open just enough to allow the cord to pass through。 Curious； Grangier walked over to the closet door and opened it。
A row of wet hundred…dollar bills held up by clothespins on a wire was strung across the closet； hanging out to dry。 On a typewriter stand was an object covered by a drape cloth。 Grangier flicked up the cloth。 He uncovered a small printing press with a still…wet hundred…dollar bill in it。 Next to the press were sheets of blank paper the size of American currency and a paper cutter。 Several one…hundred…dollar bills that had been unevenly cut were scattered on the floor。
An angry voice behind Grangier demanded； 〃What are you doing in here？〃
Grangier spun around。 Tracy Whitney； her hair damp from the bath and wrapped in a towel； had e into the room。
Armand Grangier said softly； 〃Counterfeit！ You were going to pay us off with counterfeit money。〃 He watched the expressions that played across her face。 Denial； outrage； and then defiance。
〃All right；〃 Tracy admitted。 〃But it wouldn't have mattered。 No one can tell these from the real thing。〃
〃Con！〃 It was going to be a pleasure to destroy this one。
〃These bills are as good as gold。〃
〃Really？〃 There was contempt in Grangier's voice。 He pulled one of the wet bills from the wire and glanced at it。 He looked at one side； then the other； and then examined them more closely。 They were excellent。 〃Who cut these dies？〃
〃What's the difference？ Look； I can have the hundred thousand dollars ready by Friday。〃
Grangier stared at her； puzzled。 And when he realized what she was thinking； he laughed aloud。 〃Jesus；〃 he said。 〃You're really stupid。 There's no treasure。〃
Tracy was bewildered。 〃What do you mean； no treasure？ Professor Zuckerman told me…〃
〃And you believed him？ Shame； Baroness。〃 He studied the bill in his hand again。 〃I'll take this。〃
Tracy shrugged。 〃Take as many as you like。 It's only paper。〃
Grangier grabbed a handful of the wet hundred…dollar bills。 〃How do you know one of the maids won't walk in here？〃 he asked。
〃I pay them well to keep away。 And when I'm out； I lock the closet。〃
She's cool； Armand Grangier thought。 But it's not going to keep her alive。
〃Don't leave the hotel；〃 he ordered。 〃I have a friend I want you to meet。〃
**********
Armand Grangier had intended to turn the woman over to Bruno Vicente immediately； but some instinct held him back。 He examined one of the bills again。 He had handled a lot of counterfeit money； but nothing nearly as good as this。 Whoever cut the dies was a genius。 The paper felt authentic； and the lines were crisp and clean。 The colors remained sharp and fixed； even with the bill wet； and the picture of Benjamin Franklin was perfect。 The bitch was right。 It was hard to tell the difference between what he held in his hand and the real thing。 Grangier wondered whether it would be possible to pass it off as genuine currency。 It was a tempting idea。
He decided to hold off on Bruno Vicente for a while。
Early the following morning Armand Grangier sent for Zuckerman and handed him one of the hundred…dollar bills。 〃Go down to the bank and exchange this for francs。〃
〃Sure； chief。〃
Grangier watched him hurry out of the office。 This was Zuckerrpan's punishment for his stupidity。 If he was arrested； he would never tell where he got the counterfeit bill； not if he wanted to live。 But if he managed to pass the bill successfully。。。 I'll see； Grangier thought。
Fifteen minutes later Zuckerman returned to the office。 He counted out a hundred dollars' worth of French francs。 〃Anything else； chief？〃
Grangier stared at the francs。 〃Did you have any trouble？〃
〃Trouble？ No。 Why？〃
〃I want you to go back to the same bank；〃 Grangier ordered。 〃This is what I want you to say。。。。〃
**********
Adolf Zuckerman walked into the lobby of the Banque de France and approached the desk where the bank manager sat。 This time Zuckerman was aware of the danger he was in； but he preferred facing that than Grangier's wrath。
〃May I help you？〃 the manager asked。
〃Yes。〃 He tried to conceal his nervousness。 〃You see； I got into a poker game last night with some Americans I met at a bar。〃 He stopped。
The bank manager nodded wisely。 〃And you lost your money and perhaps wish to make a loan？〃
〃No；〃 Zuckerman said。 〃As… as a matter of fact； I won。 The only thing is； the men didn't look quite honest to me。〃 He pulled out two 100 bills。 〃They paid me with these； and I'm afraid they… they might be counterfeit。〃
Zuckerman held his breath as the bank manager leaned forward and took the bills in his pudgy hands。 He examined them carefully； first one side and then the other； then held them up to the light。
He looked at Zuckerman and smiled。 〃You were lucky； monsieur。 These bills are genuine。〃
Zuckerman allowed himself to exhale。 Thank God！ Everything was going to be all right。
**********
〃No problem at all； chief。 He said they were genuine。〃
It was almost too good to be true。 Armand Grangier sat there thinking； a plan already half…formed in his mind。
〃Go get the baroness。〃
**********
Tracy was seated in Armand Grangier's office； facing him across his Empire desk。
〃You and I are going to be partners；〃 G