But Guinness knew perfectly well that, bloodcurdling threats notwithstanding, if Ernie got any idea his man wasn’t on the square with him, Amsterdam would be hip deep in American agents before tomorrow lunchtime. Across the street, on the corner of a bank building, was a sign that flashed the time and the temperature. In the old days Europe had been free of such monstrosities, but now it seemed that every city on the Continent wanted to be mistaken for Cleveland, Ohio. A month before, Guinness had been in England on a six hour layover between flights and, having decided to kill the time with a little local sightseeing, had discovered a Baskin-Robbins ice cream store almost directly on the other side of the road from Windsor Castle. There was no safety anymore. He checked his watch against the bank building and confirmed that it really was only a quarter after six. In a little more than an hour he was supposed to show up at Janine’s apartment, where the two of them would press their knees together under her tiny kitchen table while they pretended to eat dinner, but he wasn’t sure they would have a chance for any of that now.
