“Yes, Mr. Demiris.”
Demiris studied him for a moment, started to add something else, then changed his
mind. “That’s all.”
Noelle was the only passenger on the flight to Paris and Larry decided to fly the
Piper. He arranged for Paul Metaxas to make Noelle comfortable and stayed in the
cockpit, out of sight during the entire flight. When they landed, Larry walked back to her
seat and said, “Excuse me, Miss Page. Mr. Demiris asked me to stay with you while
you’re in Paris.”
She looked up at him with contempt and said, “Very well. Just don’t let me know that
you’re around.”
He nodded in icy silence.
They rode into the city from Orly in a private limousine. Larry sat up front with the
driver and Noelle Page sat in back. She did not speak to him during the journey into the
city. Their first stop was Paribas, the Banque de Paris et des Bas. Larry went into the
lobby with Noelle and waited while she was ushered into the office of the president and
then down to the basement where the safe-deposit boxes were kept. Noelle was gone about
thirty minutes, and when she returned, she swept straight past Larry without a word. He
stared after her a moment, then turned and followed her.
Their next stop was the rue du Faubourg-St.-Honoré. Noelle dismissed the car. Larry
followed her into a department store and stood nearby while she selected the items she
wanted, then handed him the packages to carry. She shopped in half a dozen stores:
Hermes for some purses and belts, Guerlain for perfume, Celine for shoes, until Larry was
burdened down with packages. If she was aware of his discomfiture, Noelle gave no sign.
Larry might have been some pet animal that she was leading around.
As they walked out of Celine’s, it began to rain. Pedestrians were scurrying to take
shelter. “Wait here for me,” Noelle commanded.
Larry stood there and watched her disappear into a restaurant across the street. He
waited in the driving rain for two hours, his arms full of packages, cursing her and cursing
himself for putting up with her behavior. He was trapped and he did not know how to get
out of it.
And he had a terrible foreboding that it was going to get worse.
The first time Catherine met Constantin Demiris was at his villa. Larry had gone
there to deliver a package he had flown in from Copenhagen, and Catherine had gone to
the house with him. She was standing in the huge reception hall admiring a painting, when
a door opened and Demiris came out. He watched her a moment, then said “Do you like
Manet, Mrs. Douglas?”
Catherine swung around and found herself face to face with the legend she had heard
so much about. She had two immediate impressions: Constantin Demiris was taller than
she had imagined, and there was an overpowering energy in him that was almost