Ria Delano was at her desk at Shangri La, going over the details of a conference that had just been held. Browsing the papers, she looked the picture of a working woman, thought her husband, the Capo, who had come in, silently, like a large panther. He would never get tired of looking at his wife, thought Philippe in admiration, his chest puffing out with love and pride. Ria wore a pair of tortoiseshell glasses, for her eyesight had suffered after the injuries she had received in the car crash, when she had lost her baby.

Her long blonde hair was twisted into a messy bun on the top of...