“Name?”
“Palmer!”
“You don’t watch TV or read the papers, do you, Smith?”
“Sometimes.”
“Well, when you get out of jail, you might read up on what’s been happening at home,” Stone said. “Herbie, do you think you can render Mr. Smith unconscious without fracturing his skull?”
“Sure,” Herbie said, and he swung the barrel of the.45 at the back of Smith’s neck. Smith collapsed in a heap.
“Thank you, Herbie,” Stone said.
“Any time, Stone. Who the fuck is this guy?”
“I’ve no idea,” Stone said. “See if he has a wallet or a passport.” Herbie went through Smith’s pockets, came up with both and handed them to Stone, who put them in a desk drawer. Then Stone picked up a phone and called Dino.
“Bacchetti,” Dino said.
“Morning, Dino. A strange man just walked into my office with a silenced pistol and threatened my life.”
“Okay, what’s the punch line?”
“No joke. Fortunately, Herbie Fisher happened in and made him go to sleep. Do you think you could haul him away and let him stew in your very excellent drunk tank for two or three days?”
“I don’t see why not,” Dino replied. “I’ll be right over.” He hung up.
Stone hung up, too. “Herbie, did I mention how very glad I am to see you?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I am very glad to see you. That little man was about to put a round in my head.”
“I’d better put Joan’s.45 back in her drawer; she’s fussy about it.” Herbie walked down the hall toward Joan’s office, then returned.
Stone’s phone rang, and since Joan was out of the office, he answered it. “Stone Barrington.”
“Mr. Barrington?” a woman’s voice said. “I was expecting Joan.”
“She’s out at the moment.”
“I have Mr. Bianchi for you.” There was a click on the line.
“Hello, Stone?” Eduardo said.
“Yes, Eduardo. How are you?”
“I am greatly relieved,” Eduardo replied. “Yesterday, Dolce landed in Palermo and was recognized by some acquaintances of mine who happened to be at the airport.”
“Happened to be at the airport?”
“At my request,” Eduardo replied. “In any case, she is now sequestered in a safe and comfortable place, and is no longer a threat to you or anyone else.”
“I’m very happy to hear that, Eduardo,” Stone said.
“I wish to apologize for any inconvenience she may have caused you. I saw to the hospital bill of the gentleman she, ah, perforated and reached an immediate settlement with him, so he will not be a bother to you.”
“Thank you again, Eduardo.”
“If you will forgive me, I am rushing off to a board meeting.”
“Of course, Eduardo.”
“Come and have lunch in a couple of weeks. I’ll call.” He hung up.
Stone hung up, too, relieved.
Dino walked into his office, followed by two burly detectives. “This the guy?” he asked, indicating Smith, who was awake now and trying to get up. The two detectives helped him, and one of them introduced him to handcuffs.
“That’s the guy,” Stone said. “I’ve no idea who he is or what he wants, but he did point that gun at me.”
Dino took the Walther from Herbie with two fingers. “This Walther?”
“The very one.”
“Check him for ID,” Dino said to the detectives.
“Nothing on him, Lieutenant,” one replied.
“My name is Smith,” Smith said.
“Sure it is,” Dino replied. “I’m Jones.”
“I have a British diplomatic passport,” Smith said.
“Well, just show it to me and we’ll forget this ugly little incident,” Dino replied.
“It’s in my inside coat pocket,” Smith said.
“No it ain’t,” a detective replied.
“I had it when I came here.”
“You had this gun when you came here,” Dino said, “and we frown on that in New York, unless you’ve got a permit.”
“He ain’t got a permit on him,” the detective said.
“And we don’t issue permits for silencers,” Dino pointed out.
“I protest!” Smith said.
“You go right ahead, but do it quietly,” Dino said, “or somebody will put you to sleep.” Dino made a motion with his head, and the two detectives dragged Smith, still protesting, out of the office.
“Okay,” Dino said to Stone, “who is he?”
Stone took Smith’s wallet and passport from his desk drawer and handed them to Dino. “One of Felicity’s,” he said, “who has turned unfriendly. Can you lose him for a couple of days?”
“Sure,” Dino said. “Elaine’s tonight?”
“I have to leave town, but I’ll be back soon. I’ll call.”
Dino left, and Stone turned to Herbie. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to invite you to my wedding.”
“When is it?”
“The day after tomorrow, at the Pierre. It just reopened after a big renovation. Stephanie’s parents live there.”
“I’m sure it’s very elegant, Herbie, but I’ll be out of the country tomorrow.”
“Maybe next time?” Herbie asked.
“Sure, next time. Put me down for it.”
58
Later that day Stone packed Felicity’s remaining bag and one for himself, then walked through the garden to the street and found a cab.
He walked into the Plaza suite to find Felicity parked in front of the TV, watching MSNBC. “Hey, there,” he said, kissing her on the neck.
“Good afternoon,” she said tonelessly. Her eyes never left the TV.
“I had an encounter with your minion, Smith, this morning.”
She turned and looked at him for the first time. “What sort of encounter?”
“One reinforced with a silenced pistol. I believe he intended to use it on me, because I wouldn’t tell him your whereabouts, but Herbie Fisher interrupted him. God bless the boy.”
“Where is Smith now?”
“In the drunk tank at the Nineteenth Precinct.”
“Dino?”
“You betcha.”
“How long will he be incarcerated?”
“Since he doesn’t have any identification, probably two or three days. Has Smith gone off the reservation?”
“Either that, or I have.”
“He seemed to be laboring under the misapprehension that Palmer has sacked you.”
“At least one of your television networks seems to be laboring under the same misapprehension,” Felicity replied. “Something has gone horribly wrong, and I don’t know what it is.”
“Don’t make any phone calls,” Stone said.
“Do you think I’m mad?”
“Certainly not.”
“I may be able to fix this once we’re back in the UK,” she said.
“May be able to?”
“I don’t know what’s going on,” she said. “The afternoon papers in London didn’t carry the story. I’m beginning to think that the Official Secrets Act may have been imposed.”
“The one I signed?”
“One and the same. The PM can impose it, and nobody can report the story.”
“What about the American afternoon papers?”
“Nothing there, either. There was a piece in The New York Times this morning reporting Hackett’s murder but few details.”
“You hungry?” Stone asked. “They’re not coming for us until nine; we have time to order some room service.”
“Please. I’d like a steak, medium rare, and a baked potato laden with whatever they have to offer. Wine, too.”
Stone ordered the same for both of them and a bottle.
Felicity turned down the volume on the TV but left it on. “I believe I’m being sought on both sides of the Atlantic,” she said, “and I won’t survive being found.”
“Why do you think that?” Stone asked.
“Your Smith story, for one thing,” she said. “He’s a fairly timid man, and he wouldn’t be pointing guns at you, unless he’d been so instructed. I think that, if I’d been there, he’d have shot me.”
“Then your government has turned on you,” Stone observed.