“I’m glad we weren’t the rabbits.”
They drove up to London the following day, uneventfully, with Lance riding shotgun and the pursuit car where it was supposed to be. They checked into the Connaught and ordered a room service lunch, then had a nap.
Later, Stone followed Vanessa up and down Bond Street where she deftly applied Stone’s credit card to the stripping of half a dozen shops. They sent the boxes and bags back to the Connaught, where the concierge sent them up to their suite.
That evening, they had a drink in the hotel’s American Bar, then strolled over to Harry’s Bar, a restaurant a couple of blocks away, for dinner. They had Blinis, then ordered. Their first course had just been set before them when a man and a woman were seated at a table directly across the room from them. Stone thought the man looked familiar, but, he recalled, half the people in the world seemed to look familiar.
They were having their main course when the penny dropped in Stone’s head.
“What’s wrong?” Vanessa asked.
“Nothing,” Stone said, reaching for his cell phone.
“Yes?” Lance said.
“It’s Stone.”
“And how is Harry’s Bar?”
“As ever, except for one detail.”
“What is that?”
“A man I believe to be Valery Majorov has been seated, along with a woman, at a table in front of us across the room.”
“Are you certain?”
“No, since I’ve only seen the man once, a couple of years ago in Paris.”
“Where are you in your dinner?”
“Our main course was just delivered.”
“Finish it, sign your bill, then follow the headwaiter, who will take you to a rear door of the restaurant. You’ll find yourselves in a garden.”
“I know the place.”
“Can you find your way back to the Connaught from there?”
“Yes.”
“Keep it as casual as you can. Walk, don’t run.”
“Right.” Stone hung up.
“Did you say that the man directly across from us is Valery Majorov?”
“Yes. Don’t look at him. You’ll turn to stone.”
“I’ve already looked at him once, and I don’t want a second glimpse.”
“Then just look into my eyes,” Stone said.
“Are you packing?”
“Yes,” Stone replied.
“I’m so glad.”
“Relax, Lance has given us exit instructions. Eat your dinner.”
“I seem to have lost my appetite,” she replied.
“Doesn’t looking at me make you hungry?”
“Perhaps.”
“We’ll have dessert in our suite,” he said, as the check was put before him. He added a big tip, signed for the bill, and rose. “Don’t hurry,” he said.
The waiter pulled out the table for them and they followed the headwaiter to the garden door and stepped outside.
“How lovely,” Vanessa said, looking around.
“Just follow the walk, and we’ll take the first left.”
She took Stone’s arm and followed his instructions. Stone heard a door close behind them and held her back when she tried to hurry. They turned left and came out onto Mount Street and crossed it. The entrance to the Connaught was at hand, and they used it. A man followed them into the elevator, and Stone unbuttoned his jacket and felt for the butt of the pistol on his belt.
“Don’t bother, old man,” the man said. “I’m with Lance.” The door opened, and in a moment, they were inside their suite. Lance awaited them before the fire, a cognac in his hand.
“Do sit down,” he said.
They sat down, and Lance poured them a drink. “Was it Majorov?” Stone asked.
“I don’t know. He was a passable double, though. You’re not crazy, just a little paranoid.” He took a sip of his brandy. “I think we’ll go home tomorrow, though, just on the off chance.”
38
They left the hotel early, just after breakfast. Lance slid into the shotgun seat. “You’re not paranoid,” he said.
“What?”
“I talked with the headwaiter at Harry’s Bar later. The man you saw was Valery Majorov.”
“Oh, shit!”
“You made him correctly. The question is: Did he make you?”
“And what is your opinion on that?”
“He didn’t look alarmed or make any phone calls,” Lance said. “Still...”
“I don’t know how good an actor I am,” Stone said, “but I made a phone call — to you — and I may have looked alarmed.”
“I thought you were pretty cool,” Vanessa said from the rear seat, which she shared with a lot of boxes and shopping bags.
“I guess we’re about to find out,” Stone said.
“Follow the white Mercedes estate wagon up ahead,” Lance said. “There’s another car behind us; they’ll give notice of anything following us.”
Stone put the Range Rover in gear and pulled onto Mount Street, following the white Mercedes some ways ahead. That car crossed South Audley Street, then turned onto Park Lane and went all the way around Hyde Park Corner twice, before peeling off and out onto Kensington Road.
“Go twice around the next roundabout, as well,” Lance said.
Stone did so and left it pointing down the Southampton road. Fifteen minutes later they were on the motorway south. Lance’s phone rang. “Yes?” He listened, then hung up. “There’s a black BMW SUV behind our chase car that is of some concern. Proceed normally, and we’ll see what happens. Leave the motorway at Southampton, instead of continuing on, and we’ll try something else tricky.” Lance made another call. “Follow the signs to the Isle of Wight ferry and don’t stop, unless they make you. Drive aboard behind the Mercedes.”
Five minutes later, they were aboard the car ferry, departing Southampton for Cowes. “Stay in the car,” Lance commanded. “My people will have a look around.”
Half an hour later, they were leaving the ferry and Cowes, and Lance directed Stone west, toward Yarmouth, while he made another call. Fifteen minutes later, they boarded another ferry at Yarmouth, then crossed the Solent to the mainland, then got off and made for Beaulieu. Lance was on the phone again.
Another quarter of an hour and they drove through the main gate at Windward Manor, then behind the house and into the large building that served as a garage.
“Inside through the kitchen door,” Lance said, “while my people check out the grounds.”
They were at lunch in the library when Lance got another call, listened, then hung up. “The black BMW followed us to the house, though they were too far back to see if we drove here. He went past the house to the end of the road, then made a U-turn and came back this way. By that time we were safely tucked away in the garage, then into the house.”
“That was a circuitous routing,” Stone said, “but clever.”
“Thank you,” Lance said. “Being evasive was always one of my better qualities. Now, can you order the airplane for takeoff at dawn tomorrow?”
“I can,” Stone said, and called Faith. He hung up. “Wheels up at six o’clock,” he said.
“We’ll keep a close watch for bogies tonight,” Lance said.
“Will you be flying with us?”
“I believe I will accept that invitation,” Lance replied. “My boss likes it if I get a free ride now and then.”
“Who’s your boss?” Vanessa asked.
“I am,” Lance replied.
39
They packed at bedtime, Stone having little to pack. Someone came and got Vanessa’s boxes and bags and put them on the cart for loading on the morrow.
“Well,” Vanessa said, sliding into bed with Stone. “It was a brief visit, but an enjoyable one.”
He turned to greet her. “And never more enjoyable than right here.”