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Collins smiled. “Why do you think that?”

“Because that’s what they taught you at the Farm.”

“Quite right.”

“Now, Jack, why did you request this meeting?”

“Because I wanted to see if you are good enough for my wife to be sleeping with.”

“May I remind you that when we met, she and I both thought her a widow.”

“I suppose, for all practical purposes, she is.”

“Then you’re not planning a resurrection as John Collins?”

“I think not.”

“By the way, you should know that you no longer have access to the Cayman bank account.”

Collins displayed a slight alarm. “Why not?”

“Because Vanessa changed the account number and password — at my suggestion.”

“Why did you suggest it?”

“Because you removed four hundred fifty thousand dollars at a time when we both thought you dead.”

“That’s inconvenient.”

“I’m sure Vanessa will give you the new codes, if you ask for them.”

“Do you have them?”

“It’s not my account. By the way, she’s closing whatever other accounts you may have.”

“Why?”

“Because a dead person can’t have such accounts.”

“I hadn’t counted on that.”

“Then you should have trusted her sooner than you did. I’ll leave the two of you to sort that out.”

Stefan, the headwaiter, turned up tableside to do his magic with the Caesar salad. They turned their attention to him.

24

They chatted amiably through dinner, and Stone rather liked the man. He tried to imagine him without the disguise and failed.

“Have you spoken to Lance recently?” Stone asked.

“Not since my death, though I sent him a message that he would know was authentic.”

“You might give him a call. He could smooth your way into a new identity.”

“I don’t feel that I need one.”

“You’ll just go on wearing the wig, then?”

“I don’t feel I’ll need that, either.”

“You think you’ll be done with the Russians soon, then?”

“Soon enough.”

“I’ve had some experience with them,” Stone said, “and I found them to be unreasonably tenacious.”

“And where did you encounter them? Or them, you?”

“In Los Angeles, New York, and Paris.”

“There must be rather a lot of them,” Collins said.

“They make it seem so. If you think you might need Lance, you should contact him sooner rather than later. He likes being needed, and he prefers information from the source rather than from rumor.”

“I suppose you’ve had some experience with Lance, then.”

“A good deal. When he’s in New York I find him in my home two or three times a week, and at my table whenever he’s hungry.”

“What is it about you that attracts him, do you think?”

“He likes my lifestyle better than his own.”

“I may have to go to ground for a while.”

“I understand you like Islesboro?”

“I do, very much.”

“I have a house there, if you want to stay out of sight for a while. After Labor Day, the island is practically deserted.”

“That’s a kind offer, and I may accept it.”

“Call me before you leave, so I can let the caretakers know you’re coming.”

“How many are there?”

“Only a couple, Seth and Mary Hotchkiss. She’s a fine cook. You won’t lose any weight up there.”

“It sounds more and more attractive.”

“If you intend to roam the island, use your disguise and stay out of the Dark Harbor store. The owner, Jimmy, substitutes for radio, television, and the newspaper, and he publishes hourly. If you need supplies, Seth will get them for you, and the daily papers, too.”

“Good to know.”

“Does the name Ed Rawls mean anything to you?”

“I met him once, at Langley. He wouldn’t remember. I know his story.”

“He’ll know your story, too, and he lives on the island just about year round. You’ll need an introduction before you go calling on him; he’s well-armed, testy, and a crack shot. Call me before you seek him out.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Do you know anyone who has a light aircraft?”

“Yes, I do. An elderly Beech Bonanza, the V-tail.”

“Has it had the modification to the empennage that keeps it from falling off in turbulence?”

“It has.”

“Then that’s the best way onto the island. The strip is 2,450 feet. Your airplane shouldn’t find it a problem.”

“I’ve seen it when on foot.”

“Seth will meet you there and transport you and your luggage to the house. Do you know anything about the history of the place?”

“I know it was built by your cousin Dick Stone.”

“And to Agency standards. It will repel small-arms fire.”

“Is there a boat?”

“There are two, but the sailing yacht is stored ashore until spring. There’s a Hinckley Picnic Boat at my dock. Seth has the keys. There are two cars, a 1938 Ford woodie station wagon and a 1954 MG TF 1500, both readily identifiable as belonging to me. Don’t use them if that concerns you.”

“Got it.”

“If you’re likely to need a quick escape, refuel at Rockland before you land. There’s no fuel on the island.”

“Right.”

“One last thing: arm the security system whenever you’re inside. Seth will show you how. There are weapons in a hidden office under the stairs, and a computer link to Langley.”

Jack nodded. “I’m familiar.”

“Oh, there’s one gap in the security. The back porch can be seen readily from the harbor, so a good shot on a boat could nail you, even in the living room. Draw the curtains at dusk.”

“I’d like to go up there the day after tomorrow, from the airport at Caldwell, New Jersey.”

Stone wrote some things down in his notebook, tore out the page, and gave it to Collins. “Phone numbers. I’ll let the couple and Rawls know you’re coming.”

“Thanks.”

“If you’re looking to repair relationships, Vanessa would like it there. This time of the year, there are no available women present.”

Collins nodded. “Excuse me. I need the men’s room.” He left the table.

Five minutes later, the owner, Ken Aretsky, came over. “Your guest had to leave. The check has been paid.”

“What a good guest,” Dino said.

“You were very quiet,” Stone pointed out.

“Sometimes you learn more by listening. You should try it.”

“And what did you learn about Jack Collins?”

“That he’s a very careful man,” Dino replied.

25

Stone was at his desk the following morning when Joan buzzed him. “Lance, on one.”

“Good morning, Lance.”

“How was your dinner meeting last evening?” Lance drawled.

“Not unpleasant.”

“Did you like him?”

“I didn’t dislike him.”

“Where is he now?”

“He gave me no clue to his current whereabouts. He’s a careful man.”

“If a bit distrustful.”

“I had the impression that he was probably a good judge of whom to mistrust.”

“Did you?”

“Does he trust you, Lance?”

“I haven’t had an opportunity to ask him.”

“Do you have knowledge of his quarrels with the Russians?”

“I’ve picked up tidbits.”

“Anything you’d like to share?”

“He distrusts them.”

“Well, they keep trying to kill him. That would do it for most people. Was he a good officer when he was still on board?”

“Better than average.”