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“What sort of job offer?”

“He gave me his card and said if I ever tired of working for Woodman and Weld, he would make me comfortable at his company.”

“Take the job,” Dino said. “Then maybe you’d know everything.”

“I think he did it just to annoy Bill Eggers,” Stone said, “and it worked.”

“Dino has a point,” Felicity said.

“You want me to go to work for Hackett?”

“That would never do,” Dino said. “Then Stone would actually have to work for a living.”

Felicity couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Why don’t you drop him a note and manage to indicate some interest?”

“Because Hackett would see that Eggers knew about it, and I’d catch hell from him.”

“Then tell Eggers why you’re doing it,” she said.

“You want him to know about Whitestone?”

“You already mentioned the name in his presence at the dinner party.”

“You want me to tell him I’m working for you?”

“Certainly not. You can lie about that.”

“Lies have a way of coming back and biting one on the ass.”

“Oh, handle it, Stone,” she said.

Dinner came, and the waiter began pouring an expensive bottle of wine.

“That’s two, Dino,” Stone said.

“And two to go,” Dino replied.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING Stone was in his office when the phone rang. Joan had gone out for something, so he picked it up. “Stone Barrington.”

“You answer your own phone?” Hackett said. “Don’t you have a secretary?”

“You place your own calls?” Stone asked. “Don’t you have a secretary?”

Hackett laughed heartily. “Let’s have lunch today,” Hackett said. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

“All right,” Stone replied.

“The Four Seasons at one?”

“That’s Eggers’s hangout,” Stone replied.

“All right, Michael’s?”

“Good,” Stone replied. “See you at one.” He hung up and called Eggers. The secretary put him through.

“Good morning, Stone,” Eggers said. “I thought that went well yesterday.”

“I don’t know about you, Bill, but it wore me out,” Stone replied.

“You should stay in better shape,” Eggers said, chuckling.

“You going to get any business from Hackett?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“How close are Hackett and Wight?”

“They know each other. I don’t know any more than that.”

“Hackett just called and invited me to lunch today. I accepted.”

“Now you listen to me, Stone…”

“Easy, Bill.”

“You’re not going to…”

“Bill, if I were job hunting, I wouldn’t be telling you about it, would I?”

“Then why are you having lunch with him?”

“Because I need some information for one of my own clients, and Hackett may have it.”

“What client?”

“You know I can’t tell you that. I can tell you there’s no conflict with Woodman and Weld.”

“Well, all right, then, but I want to know if he tries to poach you away from me.”

“But then I’d be violating Hackett’s confidence.”

“Goddamn it, Stone…”

“Bill, you’re going to have a stroke if you’re not careful.”

“Don’t you accept any work of any kind from Hackett, without my agreement.”

“Bill, I’m not trying to screw you. You’ve been very good to me, from the beginning. I just want to tap Hackett’s brain for my other client.”

“All right, all right, but you call me after lunch.”

“I will, but I don’t know how much I can tell you.”

Eggers hung up without another word.

27

Michael’s was a restaurant on West Fifty-fifth Street that catered to the publishing and media crowd, and Stone wondered why Hackett had chosen it. It was a wide-open room with contemporary furniture and good art on the walls. Michael Mc-Carty, the owner, had opened his first Michael’s in Santa Monica, California, in the late 1970s and the New York place not long afterward.

Hackett was already seated at a prime table when Stone arrived on time. They shook hands, and Stone took a seat. “This is a publishing hangout,” Stone said. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s close to my office, and the food is great,” Hackett replied.

“That’s about all I demand of a restaurant, except for fine wines, good service, attractive decor and beautiful women to look at.”

“Who could ask for more?” Stone said.

Hackett had already ordered a bottle of wine and poured Stone a glass. “One of my favorite chardonnays,” he said. “Far Niente.”

“One of mine, too,” Stone said, sipping the delicious wine.

Menus were brought, and Hackett, with Stone’s permission, ordered sweetbreads with morel mushrooms for both of them.

“I wasn’t kidding yesterday,” Hackett said.

“That’s what I’d like Bill Eggers to think,” Stone said.

Hackett laughed. “You can use me as a ploy, if you like, but I’m serious.”

“And I’m seriously appreciative,” Stone said, “but I’m very happy with my arrangement with Woodman and Weld. It gives me a lot of freedom.”

“What sort of freedom?”

“I can travel pretty much when I like: I enjoy Maine and the Florida Keys. I fly myself around.”

“What do you fly?”

“Something called a JetProp. It’s a Piper Malibu that’s had the piston engine replaced with a turbine. Does two hundred sixty knots at twenty-seven thousand feet.”

“I fly myself, too,” Hackett said, “except I have a new Cessna Citation Mustang. I just got type-rated last month.”

“What did that require?”

“The usual program is two awful weeks in a simulator in Wichita with a lot of classes and an FAA check ride at the end, but I couldn’t take that big a chunk of time off, so I hired an instructor and learned everything over about a six-week period, then took the check ride. Who’s your tailor?” Hackett asked, suddenly changing the subject.

“Doug Hayward, in London,” Stone said. “Doug died last year, but his cutter, Les, is still there, and the shop’s open.”

“Doug has made my clothes for thirty years,” Hackett said.

“I hear you were in the Paratroop Regiment,” Stone said.

“Went in at eighteen,” Hackett replied, “a fresh little Scot right out of a croft in the Shetlands.”

“What happened to your accent?” Stone asked.

“I was led astray by American women.”

Stone laughed. “They’ll do that.”

“God bless ’em,” Hackett agreed. “I can still produce a burr on demand, but I’ve been an American for a long time. How about if I give you an occasional assignment?” Hackett asked.

“If it’s something that wouldn’t conflict with a Woodman and Weld client, sure,” Stone said.

“I’ll have to give that some thought,” Hackett said. “I’m thinking of becoming a Woodman and Weld client myself.”

“That would make it a lot easier for me,” Stone said.

“Will you give me your frank personal assessment of the firm? In confidence, of course.”

“If I were a business client looking for outstanding legal representation, wide influence and excellent political connections, I’d put my business there,” Stone said. “I think that in their various fields they’re the best.”

“That’s very reassuring,” Hackett said, “and very much what I’ve heard from other sources. Do they do patent work?”

“They do, and they do it very well.”

“I own a business that builds armored vehicles out of ordinary cars,” Hackett said, “and we’ve developed some parts and processes that I’ve managed to keep very close to our vest. I’d like to patent them and, eventually, license them to other builders.”

“I’m sure the firm would be delighted to handle that for you. Would you include all the company’s legal work?”

“That seems a logical way to proceed,” Hackett said. “I believe we spent close to two million on legal last year.”