“The Feds seem to be doing that,” Stone pointed out. “After all, she’s the one who’s dogging their witness.”
“Any luck?” Ham asked.
“A couple of sightings, no collar.”
“Want me to collar him for you?”
“It’s a little more complicated than that, Ham. The Feds are involved, so is the Mafia. Grant’s up here. That’s why those guys are out in the street. They followed us to Connecticut, too.”
“I guess that boy is taking a proprietary interest in you.”
Stone laughed, and Holly shot him a glance.
“Don’t worry, it’s all business.”
“I liked him, till he got to running the Miami office,” Ham said. “After that, he was just another bureaucrat.”
“That’s what I hear,” Stone said.
“So who the hell are you, Stone?” Ham asked.
“Lawyer,” Stone replied.
“Oh.”
“Don’t take it so hard, Ham,” Holly said. “He’s also a retired cop.”
“Little young to be retired, aren’t you?”
“Bullet in the knee,” Stone said, realizing that he was adopting Ham’s mode of speech.
“Uh-huh,” Ham said. “Must of hurt.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“You two are going to be comparing scars in a minute,” Holly said.
“Who was that Herbie character?” Ham asked.
“Former client and current nuisance,” Stone replied.
“He’s dangerous.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You can smell it on him. He’d sell you to save his own ass.”
“You’re a fine judge of character, Ham.”
“I trained a lot of young men in the army. You get to know what to expect of them.”
The doorbell rang. Stone picked up a phone, pressed a button, and listened for a moment. “Come on in,” he said, pressing another button. He turned to Holly. “It’s Lance.”
“Who’s Lance?” Ham asked.
“Tell you what, Ham,” Stone said. “You meet him and tell me.”
27
LANCE AMBLED INTO the kitchen, dressed in a yellow cashmere turtleneck, a tweed jacket, cavalry twill trousers, and short alligator boots. He might have been a visiting movie star. Introductions were made, and he sat down. Daisy walked over and sniffed him. Lance scratched the top of her head, then ignored her.
“What’s up?” Lance asked.
“The Feds are all over us,” Stone said. “Followed us up to Connecticut yesterday. They’re camped outside right now.”
“Well,” Lance drawled, “I guess they take exception to Holly’s trying to arrest their man.”
“Their murderer,” Holly said.
“Or is there some other reason they’d be interested in the two of you?” Lance asked.
“You take that one, Holly,” Stone said.
“Oh, a guy I went out with a few times works for them, followed me up here.”
“You were living with him,” Ham said.
Holly turned beet red. “Herbie was here when we got back,” she said, looking for cover.
Lance permitted himself a small groan. “Stone, I wish you’d take charge of your client.”
“He’s not my client anymore, Lance. You shipped him off to Saint Thomas, remember?”
“Except he didn’t ship.”
“That’s not my fault.”
“Where did he go?”
“I gave him some money and told him to go to his mother’s place, in Brooklyn.”
Holly laughed. “Stone told him they’d never think of looking for him there. I think he bought it.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about our Herbert,” Lance said, “it’s never to expect him to do as he’s told.”
Ham nodded. “I know the type.”
“You’re ex-army,” Lance said.
“Yep.”
Lance regarded him coolly for a long moment. “I read your service record,” he said.
Ham evinced mild surprise. “Did you, now?”
“I did. You want to shoot somebody for me?”
“Who’d you have in mind?”
“Herbie.”
Ham chuckled. “I can see why, but he doesn’t seem to be a threat to national security just yet.”
“Would you shoot him if I told you he was?”
“I wouldn’t believe you if you told me he was.”
“Why not?”
“Because I think I know who you work for, and folks in your line of work tell the truth on only the rarest occasions.”
Lance laughed. “You judge us too harshly, Ham. But then, you’ve had some experience with us, in Vietnam.”
“I have.”
“I was too young for that godawful mess,” Lance said, “and I’m glad of it. But you shouldn’t judge us now for how we operated then. You might find some satisfaction in working with us again.”
“Lance is recruiting,” Stone said.
Ham shook his head. “No, thanks. You want somebody shot, you do it yourself.”
“I was speaking metaphorically before,” Lance said.
“No, you weren’t,” Ham replied.
Stone was proud of him.
For the slightest moment, Lance looked nettled, but then he relaxed. “Holly, I came to tell you that it’s going to be another day or two before you can put your hands on Trini Rodriguez without an unduly large reaction from the federales.”
“Shit,” Holly said. “I’m getting impatient. Ham, you want to shoot Trini for me?”
“Him? It would be my pleasure. Just point him out.”
Stone couldn’t tell if they were kidding. “Hang on,” he said. “We don’t need a shoot-out on our city streets.”
“Wouldn’t be a shoot-out,” Ham said. “Just a single pop.” He made a little gun with his fingers and fired it.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Lance said.
“Because there’s nothing in it for you,” Stone replied.
“You have a point,” Lance admitted. He got to his feet and stretched. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lunch date up the street.” He shook Ham’s hand, waved goodbye, and was gone.
“Your assessment, Ham?” Stone asked.
“Now that,” Ham said, “is your large-bore, fully automatic Agency spook. Where the hell did you come by him?”
“I came by him in London a while back,” Stone said. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell it to you someday when I’m less sober.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Ham said. “He’s more dangerous than Herbie.”
“Why?” Holly asked.
Ham got to his feet and moved his shoulders around. “Because he thinks of himself as a patriot, and they’re always the most dangerous. Well, I think I’ll have a nap. It’s an old man’s prerogative, and I’ve been traveling since dawn. See ya.” He headed upstairs, leaving Stone and Holly to ponder his assessment of Lance Cabot.
28
HOLLY GOT INTO some sweat clothes, stuffed the Sig-Sauer into her jacket pocket, clipped on Daisy’s leash, and headed uptown.
She and Daisy walked briskly until they entered the park, then Holly started to jog, with Daisy easily keeping pace. They ran past the zoo, then the pond where people raced model boats, and the statue of Alice in Wonderland, then they cut cross-country. Somewhere north of Alice, Holly became aware of another jogger not far behind.
Everything was perfectly normal until Holly noticed that there was something red attached to Daisy’s back. She stopped to pull it off and discovered that what was in her hand was a dart. Daisy sat down, panting, then collapsed, and then something struck Holly in the head.
Stone was napping in a big wing chair in his library, a book in his lap, when the phone woke him. “Hello?”
“Is this Stone Barrington?” A man’s voice.
“Yes.”
“This is the desk sergeant at the Twenty-second Precinct in Central Park. There’s been a homicide in the park; I think you’d better get up here.”
“Who’s dead?”
“I don’t have that information. Just get up here, okay, Mr. Barrington?”
“I’m on my way. Will you get hold of Lieutenant Bacchetti at the one-nine and ask him to meet me there?”
“Okay.” The cop hung up.
Stone thought of waking Ham, but changed his mind. He ran outside and hailed a cab.