“Just that. He’s gone, and I don’t know where. I doubt if anyone else does, either.”
“Then he may have signed his own death warrant,” Felicity said.
49
Stone was in his bathroom, brushing his teeth, when the phone rang. He closed the door and sat down on the toilet lid. “Hello?”
There was a sort of scraping noise, and then a voice seemed to come through a long tunnel. “Stone?”
“Jim?”
“Yes. I’m sorry about the quality of this thing, but we’re still working out the kinks. When we do, it will be a hot new product for us.”
“I can understand you,” Stone said. “That’s hot enough for me. Can you tell me where you are?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, but you may consider that I am at a sufficient remove to prevent unexpected events.”
“How did you travel there?”
“In someone else’s transport,” Hackett replied.
“That’s what I was thinking; they could have tracked your tail number.”
“I have reason to believe that I arrived here unnoticed by anyone.”
“I’m relieved to hear it, because, I have to tell you, I have even more reason to believe that your life is in danger.”
“Is Felicity hunting me?”
“She is the least of your problems.”
“Then what has changed?”
“I’m not sure that anything has changed, but I know more now than I did before. I should tell you that your ruse in the churchyard has been uncovered, so to speak, and that if that news makes its way to London the danger will become acute.”
“That news has not made its way to London yet?”
“No, but that could change.”
“I’m sorry I had to lie to you, Stone, but I did not consider you as much a friend as I now do.”
“Let’s put that behind us. I believe that your business interests in the UK may be in as much danger as you are.”
“I had anticipated that, and I’ve done what I can to minimize the risk.”
“Tell me, Jim, why was there no fingerprint record in the dossier you sent?”
“I don’t know; I received it exactly as you saw it.”
“And why does your dossier and that of Timothy Timmons bear the same photograph?”
Silence.
“Hello, Jim?”
“I’m still here. I didn’t know the two dossiers had the same photo. I assure you that the photo you saw on my dossier was of me. I can’t answer for Tim’s dossier, because I never saw it. Where on earth did they find it?”
“At a storage facility for old records.”
“Was there anything of interest found in it?” Hackett asked.
“What would you expect to be found in it?”
“I’ve no idea what’s in it,” Hackett replied, “and I’m very surprised that there would be any interest in Tim’s dossier.”
“Why not? He was your partner,” Stone pointed out.
“I suppose I should have expected that.”
“Jim,” Stone said, “are you Stanley Whitestone?”
Something like a sigh could be heard down the long tunnel. “Stone, I won’t lie to you, but I can’t answer that question now. Perhaps later, I don’t know.”
“Why not?”
“I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to accept that I can’t answer you. I’m going to have to go now.”
“Jim, is it possible for me to contact you if I need to?”
“No, I’m afraid not. If you have something important to tell me, you’ll have to wait for me to call you again. Good-bye.” Hackett hung up.
Stone hung up and walked back into the bedroom, where Felicity was waiting for him, sitting up in bed, reading something from her briefcase.
“Who were you talking to?” she asked.
“A client.”
“Do clients often call you at this hour?”
“Sometimes. I can’t refuse to speak to a client, whatever the hour may be.”
“Was it Hackett?” she asked.
“Go to sleep,” Stone said, kissing her on the cheek.
She closed the file, put it back into her briefcase, reset the combination lock, then switched off her bedside lamp.
“You’re fired,” she said. “I hope that will make it easier for you to deal with this.”
“Maybe it will,” Stone said, switching off his lamp.
STONE WOKE UP later than usual, and Felicity was gone. She had left a note on the bed, saying that she would meet him for dinner at Elaine’s.
Stone showered, shaved, dressed and went down to his office, where Helene brought him a light breakfast at his desk.
Joan buzzed him. “Mr. Fisher to see you.”
Stone sighed. “Send him in.”
Herbie came in and sat down. “It’s going very well with Stephanie,” he said. “I may have to get you to do a prenup yet.”
“Herbie, slow down,” Stone said. “You’re going to have to learn to restrain yourself sometimes if you’re ever going to grow up.”
“You think I’m not grown up?”
“Not quite yet, Herbie.”
“I want to buy a jet airplane,” Herbie said. “I can afford it.”
“How much money do you have left, Herbie?”
“A little over ten million.”
“You could buy a used jet airplane for around two million,” Stone said, “but flying it and maintaining it would cost a lot every month. You’d have to hire a pilot, maybe a copilot, too, depending on which airplane you bought, and when something breaks on a jet, Herbie, it is very, very expensive to repair.”
“Oh,” Herbie said. “I didn’t know that.”
“I suggest you explore the idea of first class on the airlines.”
“I don’t like the airport experience,” Herbie replied. “I especially don’t like going through security. They always suspect me of something.”
“Then join one of the share programs,” Stone suggested.
“I’ve seen those in magazine ads. Which one should I join?”
“I don’t have any experience with that, Herbie. I suggest you call, say, three of them, then compare the deals.”
“How much does it cost?”
“Again, I don’t know, but it will depend on the size of the jet you buy into.”
“Okay, I’ll look into it,” Herbie said, getting up. “I’ll tell Stephanie to come see you about the prenup.”
“Herbie,” Stone said, “tell her attorney to call me. Please.”
IN THE EARLY afternoon, Joan came into Stone’s office and handed him a sheet of paper with a number on it. “The bank called,” she said. “We received a wire transfer from London in that amount, which is, I assume, your fee from Felicity in dollars.”
Stone looked at the number. “I see the dollar is down against the pound,” he said, smiling. “First time I ever got a good deal on a currency exchange. Go spend it.”
Joan did so.
50
Stone met Dino at Elaine’s for dinner, and they were on their second drink before Felicity arrived, looking oddly happy.
“I was going to ask what’s wrong,” Stone said, “but I suppose, given your mien, I should ask what’s right.”
“You are very perceptive,” she said. “What’s right is that I appear to have won.”
“I don’t suppose you’d care to say what you’ve won in the presence of Lieutenant Bacchetti,” Stone said, nodding at Dino.
“My lips are sealed,” Dino said.
“I don’t distrust your lips, Dino,” Felicity replied, “but forgive me if I talk in riddles.”
“Riddle away.” Dino went back to his drink and ogled a young woman at the bar.
Felicity leaned in close to Stone. “I’ve won the argument with my betters.”
“Whitestone?” Stone mouthed.
“Have you ever heard of lip reading?” Felicity asked. “And you’re facing the window.”
“Whitestone?” Stone whispered without moving his lips.
“Yes, that argument,” she replied. “I believe the contretemps involving my former colleague has abated, to the point of nonexistence.”
“How did you manage that?”