Man number one pulled Diane into the hotel room by the arm and threw her down into the chair by the little wicker table. Diane carefully balanced Michael, trying not to upset him.

�What do you want from me?� Diane said, almost sighing.

�You�re really not too bright, are you, lady?� Number One sneered.

�What do you mean by that?� she said, her eyes darting around the room for potential weapons or defensive objects.

�You flew down here under your own name, Ms. Russell,� the second man responded with his deep, erudite voice with a slight Spanish accent. She would have called him number two, but his manner and diction were so commanding, she figured he was the boss.

�Since when is a vacation under my own name a crime?�

�Since you used drug money to buy the plane tickets,� the Boss said.

�Could you do me a favor?� asked Diane.

�What would you like, Ms. Russell?�

�Could you say, �rich Corinthian leather?� It would sound so good in your voice.�

�Games, Ms. Russell. We don�t have time for games.�

�Okay. So what makes you think I�m using drug money?�

�You received a large amount of money in a wire transfer that was supposedly an inheritance from a dead uncle. You don�t have any dead uncle.�

�How...?�

�Never mind that. We were able to trace the source of the funds, and they were transferred from a bank in St. Thomas by a Mr. Harry Denby.�

�Where did you get your information?� Diane said through clenched teeth.

�Let�s just say we are not bound by the kind of legal procedural rules that govern your investigative process. And we can be very persuasive.�

�Vee haff vays of makingk you talk,� Diane joked.

With a nod from the Boss, Number one abruptly yanked Michael�s cradle from Diane�s arms and left the room. Diane tried to follow, but the Boss held her back. Diane struggled against him, but he held her wrists tightly and twisted them backward, forcing her to sit down with a yelp.