Robert listened to the phone ring again and again. It was six a.m. in Washington. I’m always waking the old man up, Robert thought.

The Admiral answered on the sixth ring. “Hello …”

“Admiral, I…”

“Robert! What …?”

“Don’t say anything. Your phone is probably bugged. I’m going to make this fast. I just wanted to tell you not to believe anything they’re saying about

me. I’d like you to try to find out what’s going on. Imay need your help later.”

“Of course. Anything I can do, Robert.”

“I know.”

“I’ll call you later.”

Robert replaced the receiver. No time for a trace. He saw a blue Fiat pull up outside the bar. Pier was at the wheel.

“Move over,” Robert said. “I’ll drive.”

Pier made room for him as he slid in behind the wheel.

“Are we on our way to Venice?” Pier asked.

“Uh huh. We have a couple of stops to make first.” It was time to spread some more chaff around. He turned onto Viale Rossini. Ahead was the

Rossini Travel Service. Robert pulled over to the kerb. “I’ll be back in a minute.