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embarrassed to hell,” Dr. Chasman told Richard Walmeyer and Montaro after the owner turned down his last request. “He appreciates and respects your interest but, ‘no, not at this time,’ he says. He says it would be inappropriate for reasons he would rather keep to himself. Frankly, I’m baffled by his reaction. It’s not at all like him. I’m sorry, gentlemen. That’s all I can say.”
    Montaro Caine now looked up from the old memo into the radiant face of Colette Beekman, whose eyes seemed to dance with anticipation as he handed the document back to her. She took it and waited, expecting Caine to comment. As several moments passed in silence, her tongue glided across her already moist lower lip, betraying something of her own internal excitement.
    Your move, honey
, he thought, challenging her with his eyes beforeturning to Herman Freich, wondering if this austere man before him could have been the owner of the coin.
    “Do you remember much about that object, Mr. Caine?” Colette asked with a forced casualness that recaptured his attention. “Given, of course, that it was you who wrote the original memo.”
    Aha
, Caine thought,
no more cat and mouse—bottom line at last
. “Yes, I remember it,” he answered in a controlled voice.
    “Mr. Caine, may I call you Montaro?”
    Montaro nodded.
    “Montaro,” she pressed on, “since so much time has passed and there have been so many new innovations in the analytic process of metals, we wondered if you would consider conducting another workup of the object with more sophisticated equipment.”
    My God, they’ve got it. They’ve got it!
Montaro screamed inside his head while he struggled to keep his expression neutral.
How incredible. After years of speculating about the fate of that coin, these two walk in and they’ve got it—possibly right there in her briefcase. But easy now, easy. Not so fast
, he cautioned himself.
Who are these people?
He forced his imagination not to run wild with the endless possibilities he believed might be locked away in those unknown elements: exciting possibilities for industry, the military, the country, Fitzer Corporation too, perhaps even the solution to the problems he was facing. He swore not to let the coin’s secrets evade him again. He reminded himself to remain alert, to stay a beat ahead until he could find out who these people were and what they really wanted. He smiled now as he thought of how suspicious he’d been when Larry had first told him of Freich and Beekman. He absentmindedly stroked his tie. Then he leaned forward in his seat with his head hanging down. He spoke as if addressing his shoes.
    “What exactly are you interested in? The object or what it’s made of?”
    “Both,” Freich said.
    “This person you represent, how long has he had the coin?”
    “Why do you assume it’s not a she who has it, Montaro?” Colette asked simply. With the barest of nods, Montaro acknowledged her point.
    “Long enough,” said Freich obliquely in reply to Caine’s question.
    “Am I interested in having another look at it?” Caine replied. “Maybe. Providing my schedule permits. What time frame do you have in mind?”
    “Tomorrow,” Colette answered.
    “That’s rather fast,” said Caine.
    “But it can be done, can’t it?”
    He knew they knew it could, though not without some difficulty. He had planned to use much of the next day to prepare for an emergency board meeting that would be followed by a meeting of Fitzer’s regional managers. “I have a very busy work schedule, Ms. Beekman … or Colette, if I may, and I would be hard put to accommodate something that doesn’t have anything to do directly with the business of Fitzer Corporation. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”
    He wondered what their hurry was.
    “We would of course compensate you for your inconvenience, Montaro,” said Colette.
    “Let me look into it,” said Caine. “Where can I call you after lunch?”
    “Waldorf Towers,