6

Gia picked up the phone on the third ring. A soft, accented voice asked to speak to Mrs. Paton.

“Who shall I say is calling?”

“Kusum Bahkti.”

She thought the voice sounded familiar. “Oh, Mr. Bahkti. This is Gia DiLauro. We met last night.”

“Miss DiLauro—a pleasure to speak to you again. May I say you looked very beautiful last night.”

“Yes, you may. As often as you wish.” As he laughed politely, Gia said, “Wait a second and I’ll get Nellie.”

Gia was in the third floor hall. Nellie was in the library watching one of those public affairs panels that dominate Sunday afternoon television. Shouting down to her seemed more appropriate to a tenement than a Sutton Square townhouse. Especially when an Indian diplomat was on the phone. So Gia hurried down to the first floor.

As she descended the stairs she told herself that Mr. Bahkti was a good lesson on not trusting one’s first impressions. She had disliked him immediately upon meeting him, yet he had turned out to be quite a nice man. She smiled grimly. No one should count on her as much of a judge of character. She had thought Richard Westphalen charming enough to marry, and look how he had turned out. And after that there had been Jack. Not an impressive track record.

Nellie took the call from her seat in front of the tv. As the older woman spoke to Mr. Bahkti, Gia turned her attention to the screen where the Secretary of State was being grilled by a panel of reporters.

“Such a nice man,” Nellie said as she hung up. She was chewing on something.

“Seems to be. What did he want?”

“He said he wished to order some Black Magic for himself and wanted to know where I got it. “’The Divine Obsession,’ wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Gia had committed the address to memory. “In London.”

“That’s what I told him.” Nellie giggled. “He was so cute: He wanted me to taste one and tell him if it was as good as I remembered. So I did. They’re lovely! I think I’ll have another.” She held up the dish. “Do help yourself.”

Gia shook her head. “No, thanks. With Vicky allergic to it, I’ve kept it out of the house for so long I’ve lost my taste for it.”

“That’s a shame,” Nellie said, holding another between a thumb and forefinger with her pinky raised and taking a dainty bite out of it. “These are simply lovely.”