Templer swung his London Fog over his shoulder. His casual slacks and stylish light weight sweater contrasted severely with Alex's comfortable air of formality. "I don't get here often. Paris is a very special place," Templer mused, turning from his view of the city to face his old comrade.
"It is indeed," agreed Alex. "Then why do you look so melan- choly? Does Paris bring you memories of sadness?"
"I hope not," Templer said, eyes down.
"You didn't give me much notice," Alex said good naturedly. "I left the most beautiful woman in the world in a jacuzzi at St. Moritz."
"No, I'm sorry. I know I didn't, but it was urgent. Couldn't wait." A slight breeze caused Templer to shiver. He slowly put on his tan rain coat and looked right into Alex's eyes. "I'm going to ask you straight."
Alex confidently grinned. "Ask what?"
"Was Taki Homosoto a client of yours?" The biting words seemed to have little impact on Alex.
"My clients trust me to keep their identities confidential." The expression on Alex's face didn't change.
"The guy's dead. What the hell can it hurt?" Templer laughed.
"What's he gonna do? Sue you for breach of contract?"
Alex didn't say a word. He saw Templer laugh the confident laugh of a chess player one move from checkmate and he realized how un- comfortable a position this was for him. How do you behave when you're on the losing end of the stick? Alex was thinking like he cared what Templer knew or thought. In reality, though, he didn't care any more about what anyone thought of him. He had enough money, more than enough money, to lead a lavish lifestyle without worry. So what did it matter. As friends nothing would change between him and Martin. But professionally, that was a different matter.