“I’m impressed.”
“Thank you.”
Stone took a deep breath and asked, “Jim, are you Stanley Whitestone?”
Hackett raised an eyebrow. “Probably not.”
“You’re not going to give me a straight answer on that?”
“Stone, it might be dangerous to do so, given your connections.”
“Dangerous for whom?”
“For Stanley Whitestone.”
Stone laughed. “All right, then, if you won’t answer that question, perhaps you’ll answer another.”
“You can ask,” Hackett replied.
“What was this all about? Why would the foreign secretary and the home secretary be so anxious to find and, perhaps, kill a man who left their service a dozen years ago?”
“Didn’t Felicity tell you?”
“I’m not entirely certain she knows,” Stone said. “If she does, she wouldn’t tell me.”
“Well, I don’t suppose it would do any harm to tell you. After all, you’ve shown me that you know how to keep a confidence.”
“I’m all ears,” Stone said.
“Felicity probably didn’t tell you that both the foreign secretary and the home secretary, earlier in their careers, had connections with MI6.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“The home secretary, whose name is Prior, had a more informal connection, but the foreign secretary, whose name is Palmer, was actually, for a time, an agent.”
“I’ve never heard that,” Stone said.
“And you didn’t hear it here,” Hackett replied.
“Did they know you-rather, Whitestone-on a professional basis?”
“They did, Palmer more closely, since he worked with Whitestone. They were such good friends that Palmer invited Whitestone down to his place in the country for a weekend on one occasion.”
“Sounds chummy.”
“Oh, it was. Prior was there, too. He was a parliamentary private secretary to a previous home secretary at that time.”
“Does their enmity for Whitestone date to that weekend in the country?”
“I suppose you could say that in that weekend lay the germ of their enmity.”
“What happened there?”
Hackett sighed. “All right, here goes. Pay attention. Palmer had a daughter, a beautiful and brilliant girl, who was a doctoral candidate at Cambridge. She was twenty-four.”
“How does she come into this?”
“In spite of the age difference, she and Whitestone were drawn to each other, and an affair ensued.”
“Are you telling me that this whole business hinges on a May-September affair?”
“It went further than that,” Hackett said. “The girl found herself pregnant, as the British like to say.”
“And Whitestone was the father?”
“He was the only candidate,” Hackett said. He was gazing out the window at Penobscot Bay now.
“Wouldn’t he marry her?”
“Alas, he was already married, and a divorce would have taken two years to achieve, assuming his wife was agreeable to the split.”
“So what happened?”
“Things became more complicated,” Hackett said.
52
They sat quietly for a moment while the housekeeper cleared away their lunch dishes. When she had finished, Stone asked, “Complicated? How?”
“Part of what I have to tell you was not directly known by Whitestone; he figured it out later.”
“Tell me.”
“Palmer’s daughter-Penelope-told Whitestone she wanted to have the child, that she would wait for him to get a divorce and marry her.”
“And how did Whitestone feel about that?”
“He was very willing, and he told her so in no uncertain terms.”
“Is that what happened?”
“Alas, no. Penelope was terribly frightened of what her father would do if he found out about her pregnancy, and, of course, she could hardly conceal it for long.”
“So she had an abortion?”
“Abortion was legal at the time, but she was afraid to go to a clinic, for fear that the gutter press would find out. She knew her father was planning a political career, and she was afraid the news would ruin his chances. He was going to run for a Conservative seat in the district where his country home was. It was a very conservative district-with a small C-you see.”
“So, what did she do?”
“She had a friend who was a medical student, and she confided in him. He had seen a D & C performed, and even though he had not performed one himself, he agreed to do the procedure. A bank holiday weekend was coming up, and they borrowed a country cottage outside Cambridge. He brought the necessary instruments and performed the abortion on Friday evening, then stayed with her through the night to be sure she was all right.
“The following morning, after she assured him that she was fine, he left her and went back to London to see his boyfriend-he was gay. As it turned out, he had perforated her uterus, and an infection ensued. She grew very ill, and he had not left her with an antibiotic-a stupid omission on his part.
“The boy returned on Sunday evening to find her in extremis. He took her to a casualty ward at the nearest hospital and told the physician there what had happened, but she died later that night. That incident is what informed Palmer’s hatred of Whitestone.”
“I can understand that,” Stone said, “but why is Prior involved?”
“The boy was thrown out of medical school and arrested and tried for manslaughter. He received a light sentence-two years-but, of course, his future as a physician was ruined. Then he was raped and murdered in prison.”
“Jesus.”
“Yes. I don’t believe I mentioned that the boy was Prior’s son.”
Stone hardly knew what to say.
“So,” Hackett added, “there were two bereaved and aggrieved fathers who blamed Whitestone for the loss of their children.”
“But he had no part in the girl’s decision to seek an abortion?”
“None whatever. He was as stricken as the two fathers. Palmer was his senior at MI-6, and influential. Whitestone left, unceremoniously, and disappeared.”
“Is that when Lord Wight came into the story?”
“Yes. Whitestone was a friend of Wight’s daughter, a painter, and had previously impressed Wight, who took him in, so to speak. Whitestone took to business very quickly, and the relationship turned out to be very profitable for both of them.”
“So why has all this come up twelve years later?”
“Because both Palmer and Prior were later elected to Parliament, and two years ago, with a Conservative victory in the election, both received cabinet posts, Foreign Office and Home Office. They have become the two most powerful cabinet secretaries in this government and, one might say, drunk with power. They were now able to use their positions to avenge the loss of those two young people.”
“But first,” Stone said, “they had to find Stanley Whitestone, and they enlisted Felicity Devonshire.”
“Yes,” Hackett said, “but it’s uncertain if she ever knew why.”
“She knew how serious they were, though,” Stone said, “and she did everything she could to stop them.”
“How did she, at last, stop it?” Hackett asked.
“I believe she threatened to give someone in the press the story, if it wasn’t stopped.”
“God, that was brave of her,” Hackett said.
“She risked being removed from her post,” Stone agreed.
“No, not that; if they’d sacked her she could still have talked to a reporter,” Hackett said. “My guess is, had they managed to kill Whitestone, they would have killed her, too.”
Hackett picked up the half-empty bottle of wine and his glass. “Come on, let’s finish this on the porch; it’s such a lovely day.”
Stone picked up his glass and followed him outside.
“Oh,” Hackett said, “given the favorable course of events, we can return to New York tomorrow morning. I’ll fly back with you.”