She couldn’t see the abductor-he came from behind and hit her on the head with something. But when she went home to tell her husband what had happened, he reacted strangely-bizarrely. He showed little concern for his wife, and less for his daughter. He told her that she must tell no one what had happened-they would wait for a ransom note, and if none came, it would mean that the child had been taken by a lunatic and killed.”

Mr. Moore shrugged. “Such things do happen, Sara.”

“But he didn’t even try going to the police! A full day passed, no ransom note came, and finally Señora Linares declared that if her husband wouldn’t go to the authorities, she would.” Miss Howard paused, wringing her hands a bit. “He beat her, John. Savagely. You should see her-in fact, you’re going to see her. She didn’t know what to do-her husband said he’d do worse if she ever talked of going to the police again. Finally, she confided in a friend of hers at the French consulate, a woman I helped out with some minor marital rubbish a few months ago. The Frenchwoman told her about me. The señora’s waiting for us. You’ve got to come and talk to her-”

“Wait, wait, wait, now,” Mr. Moore answered, holding up his cigarette and trying to salvage his night of pleasure. “You’re forgetting a few things here. In the first place, these people are diplomatic officials. The laws are different. I don’t know exactly what they are in a case like this, but they’re different. Second, if this Linares character doesn’t want to pursue it, then who are we to-”

Mr. Moore was interrupted by the sudden appearance, behind Cyrus and me, of the woman he’d just minutes ago been in bed with. She’d apparently retrieved her clothes from the hall and was fully dressed and ready to depart.

“Excuse me, John,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t sure what these people wanted, but it does sound important-so I thought I ought to go. I’ll see myself out.”