“Sometimes a friend is a person who shares your enemies.”
“I have no enemies, until they start shooting at me again.”
“That event is not out of the question. I hope you realize that.”
“Of course I realize it. Why do you think I’m here, instead of there?”
“You’re a bit testy these days, aren’t you?”
“You’re lucky you’re not here, where I could take a swing at you.”
“Funny you should mention that: I’ll be there for dinner tomorrow evening and a few days’ stay. You might ask our mutual friend across the river to join us. Dinner is so much more fun when there are women about.”
“Then I will supply them. I must return to my previous activity now.”
“Of course, you must. Good day.” Lance hung up.
Vanessa looked up from her book, something on décor, by Susan Blackburn. “Who was that? You didn’t sound very happy to hear from him/her.”
“That was Lance Cabot. He’ll be here for dinner tomorrow night and for a few days’ stay. I’ll invite my neighbor to join us.”
“Is he in the same business as Lance?”
“It’s ‘she,’ and yes. Her name is Dame Felicity Devonshire, and she’s the director of MI6, the British foreign intelligence service, which is analogous to the CIA.”
“Oh, won’t that be fun!”
“It may be. I think Felicity will find you attractive company.”
Vanessa raised an eyebrow. “What are you suggesting?”
“Nothing, but Felicity might well suggest something. How do you feel about the attentions of other women?”
“That depends.”
“I won’t ask on what, but if you enjoy that sort of thing, the opportunity may present itself.”
“Are you going to watch?”
“I would hope to do a great deal more than that, but I will follow your lead and Felicity’s.”
“Well, I’m glad you warned me. We’ll see how it goes.”
“Suffice it to say, I have no expectations, so I cannot be disappointed. And I’ve no objections to having you all to myself.”
“As you have demonstrated so nicely, as recently as last night.”
“And will continue to do so.”
“Where does Lance come in, in all this?”
“He does not.”
“What are his sexual preferences?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t think anyone else does, either, so you should not concern yourself. He can be good company at dinner, though, if he feels like it.”
“I’m a good reader of people,” Vanessa said. “By the end of dinner, maybe even after the soup, I will very probably be able to tell you what his preferences are.”
“All this from across a dinner table?”
“Don’t worry, I don’t have to assault him to read him.”
“Well,” Stone said, “this could be fun.” His cell phone buzzed, and he looked at it. “We may expect Dame Felicity at six-thirty tomorrow,” he said.
“How am I dressing?”
“To kill. It will be black tie.”
“Oh, good.”
“I’m sorry you can’t go shopping for a dress, but them’s the rules.”
“Fear not, I’m sufficiently stocked.”
Stone’s phone vibrated again, and he glanced at it and sent back a reply. “It seems the foreign minister, Sir John Parker, and his wife, Hillary, will be joining us for dinner. Felicity is putting them up at her house, so I should think that will put a damper on her intentions for after dinner. Sir John is, after all, her boss.”
“Perhaps another time,” Vanessa said.
“I believe that’s what Felicity is thinking, too.”
33
Stone came out of his dressing room and found Vanessa sitting on the edge of the bed, nude. He knelt and attended to things at the Delta of Venus.
Vanessa ran her fingers through his hair and sighed. “Who needs Dame Felicity?”
“We try to offer a complete service,” Stone said, climbing atop of her. She lifted her knees to allow him full entry.
“And you do that so well,” she breathed.
When they were both sated, they lay side by side. “Is anyone still trying to kill us?” she asked.
“Probably not,” Stone replied, “but there’s a loaded shotgun under my side of the bed, and a pistol in my bedside drawer.”
“I know how to use both of those implements,” she said, “in case I’m needed.”
“Good to know. We might not have time for weapons instruction.”
She fondled him. “I’ve already had weapons instruction,” she said, “but I can always muster a second wind.”
“I’m not sure I can,” Stone said, “so let’s save it for the morning.”
They were both soon asleep.
The following morning, Stone’s eyes fluttered open, and he experienced a moment of disorientation, uncertain on what continent they were, but it was momentary. A birdsong outside snapped him into place; one didn’t hear that often in New York.
“What kind of bird is that?” Vanessa asked.
“I’ve no idea,” Stone replied. “My knowledge of ornithology extends only as far as robins and LBJs, as a friend of mine puts it.”
“What’s an LBJ?” she asked.
“A Little Brown Job,” he replied.
She threw a leg over him. “I believe we have an appointment,” she said.
Stone joined her. “I believe we do.”
Breakfast was sent up, and they had it in bed.
“You mentioned riding,” Vanessa said. “Is that in the cards today?”
“If you will forgive me, I’d like us to stay indoors today, perhaps out of an overabundance of caution.”
“I’ve no objection,” Vanessa said. “Do we have to get out of bed?”
“Eventually, otherwise the staff will talk among themselves.”
“Are they very talkative?”
“They are human, and thus talkative.”
“And at what hour will our guests arrive?”
“Felicity at six-thirty, as will her guests, the Parkers. Lance is liable to turn up at any time, but I won’t acknowledge his presence until the same time.”
“Is Lance bringing someone?”
“Felicity will be his date, as it were. Have you ever met Lance?”
“A few times, with John.”
“How did the two of you get along?”
“Well enough. Also, I may as well tell you, before Lance lets anything slip. I didn’t actually meet John after his Farm days. We met there, where we were both in training.”
“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Stone said.
“I never fully joined the Agency. Wasn’t for me, but it was good learning. I did become a model after, that wasn’t a lie. Were you ever at the Farm?” she asked.
“Once, for two or three days. I’m still trying to forget the experience.”
She laughed. “Oh, come on, it wasn’t all that bad.”
“The good days must have arrived after my departure. Once, however, I lost a bet and had to do the full course at the MI6 counterpart, in Scotland.”
“How was that?”
“The weather was worse than at Camp Peary.”
She laughed.
“The weather is one of the few things you can count on, in Scotland.”
“Did you learn anything?”
“Nothing that wouldn’t have been covered at the Farm if I’d hung around long enough. The drill sergeants were equally odious.”
“Sergeants are like that,” she said. “I was there when Holly Barker did a guest lecture, you know.”
“I did not know. How did she conduct herself?”
“Whip smart and a better shot than our shooting instructor.”
“That sounds like her.” He sought a change of subject. “How were you recruited?”
“Someone recommended me to Lance.”
“Who?”
“Lance wouldn’t tell me.”