“Are you morally impelled to give it to them today, tomorrow, or next week?”
“I suppose not.”
“Then please let me choose the moment for transmitting it, so that you may derive the maximum benefit for being a patriotic American.”
“I take your point,” Pablo said.
“Now, what other information do you have for them?”
“I can give them the details of every arms transaction I have been involved in for the past twelve years,” Pablo replied. “I should mention that I have what is often referred to as a photographic memory, although it might be more accurate to describe me as visually and audibly memory-efficient.”
“Do you have documents to support your recounting of these transactions?”
“Alas, such transactions are never committed to paper, except as notes, which I have always destroyed at the conclusion of the business.”
“What we very much need, then,” Stone said, “is a transaction that they can confirm independently, as a means of confirming your veracity.”
“I am unaccustomed to having my veracity questioned,” Pablo said, “having built a reputation for truthfulness over these many years.”
“You will have to try not to be offended by the disbelief of others,” Stone said. “Each person you speak to will have his own very good reasons for disbelieving you, unless the truth can be more objectively confirmed.”
Pablo sighed. “Ah, that is human nature, I suppose.”
“It is the nature of the intelligence bureaucracy,” Stone said, “where every person is responsible to those above him and must, therefore, cover his ass.”
Pablo laughed. “I think you are right; I am unaccustomed to dealing with bureaucracy. In my business, decisions are made quickly, albeit with verification on both sides.”
“As in ‘you show me yours, and I’ll show you mine’?”
“Precisely.”
“Please remember, as we progress, that we are not dealing in the sale or purchase of hardware, but a trade of information in return for the safety of you and yours. What we are likely to get, if we are successful, is a sheet of paper with some writing and a signature on it.”
“I understand. Tell me, Stone, do you have a very good safe in your offices?”
“I do.”
“Then I must ask you to deposit there any paper on which you have written any information about me, so that, if your offices should be . . . disturbed, that information will not fall into other hands.”
“I will do so,” Stone replied. He looked at his watch. “Now,” he said, “I think you should go to a place where you feel secure and wait there while I conduct some preliminary discussion with what we must think of as the opposition. If you will give me a phone number, I’ll call you when I have progress to report, probably tomorrow.”
“Please memorize this,” Pablo said, then gave him the number. “Repeat, please.”
Stone repeated the number.
Pablo stood and offered his hand. “I feel better now,” he said. “I look forward to working with you.”
“I look forward to that, too,” Stone said, shaking the hand.
When Pablo had gone, Stone called Lance Cabot.
“Holly Barker.”
“Holly, it’s Stone. May I speak to Lance?”
“I’m afraid he’s out of the office for the rest of the day,” she said. “Did you get any sleep this morning?”
“I did, though not enough. Will you ask Lance to call me at his earliest convenience?”
“Sure. Anything I can help you with?”
“Not yet,” Stone replied. “Bye-bye.” He hung up, then called Dino and made a dinner date. He called in Joan, scribbled Pablo’s phone number on a notepad, ripped off the page and handed it to her, along with the letter from the IRS. “Start a file on Mr. Gelbhardt,” he said. “Keep it in the safe, along with any other material pertaining to him, and keep the safe locked at all times.”
“Anything scary about this client?” she asked.
“He’s a pussycat, but there might be those who wish to harm him in some way, and they may not be as nice—hence, the safe.”
“Got it.”
“Deposit his check and pay the taxes on it today, please.”
“Got it.”
There was a knock at the door, and Herbie Fisher stood there. “Hey, Stone.”
“Hey, Herbie, come in.”
Herbie took a seat.
“You don’t look so happy,” Stone said. “What’s going on?”
“Well, I’m not seeing very much of Stephanie.”
“Why not? You still live together, don’t you?”
“Of course, but she leaves the apartment at seven in the morning and misses dinner a lot of the time.”
“Well, she’s just started a new job, hasn’t she?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Are you still going on your honeymoon?”
“Eventually, when Stephanie can take a break from work.”
“What, exactly, is she doing at Gunn?”
“International stuff. She sometimes gets calls in the middle of the night about something that’s happening with an overseas market.”
“Is she making lots of money for you yet?”
“Not yet, and not a hell of a lot for herself. She and David only get a ninety-thousand-dollar salary each; they could do better at a bigger firm, right out of college.”
“But they both will do very well indeed over the long run, right?”
“Right, I guess, when Jack decides to retire or kicks off.”
“How’s Jack’s health?”
“He’s in better shape than I am,” Herbie replied.
“More time at the gym, Herbie,” Stone said. “Now, if you haven’t got anything specific to bring up, I have to get back to work.”
Herbie stood up. “Yeah, sure; I’m just glad to know you’re here, representing me.”
“That’s very flattering, Herbie. See you soon.”
Herbie shambled out, and Stone got busy making notes for when Lance returned his call.
THIRTY
Stone and Dino arrived on the sidewalk simultaneously, then walked into Elaine’s together. Their drinks were on the table almost as soon as they sat down.
“Have I got a tale to tell you,” Stone said.
“People been telling me tales all day,” Dino replied. “Did you know that criminals lie all the time?”
“I seem to remember that they do,” Stone said. “But you always catch them at it, don’t you?”
“Most of the time,” Dino said. “Now, tell me your tale.”
Stone began with the story of the sale of Strategic Air Services to the CIA, then continued with the trip to Iraq, the extraction from Spain, and, finally, Pablo’s short drive out of the airplane and his subsequent hiring of Stone.
“You’re shitting me,” Dino said when he was done.
“About which part?”
“The whole thing. You made it up out of thin air, didn’t you?”
“I swear, every word is true.”
“You were in Iraq?”
“Well, not so’s you’d notice it, but even if my feet didn’t touch the ground, I was there—and in the Azores and Spain, too.”
“You know, I did see something on TV about a Mercedes found in a swimming pool in Rye.”
“That’s the one. How else could it have gotten into that guy’s pool?”
Stone looked up to see Lance Cabot walking into the restaurant. He shucked off his coat, hung it up, and pulled up a chair. “You rang?” he said to Stone.
“I did, but a return phone call would have done.”
“I was in town anyway,” Lance said. “Good evening, Dino.” They shook hands.
“How you doing, Lance?”
“I’m not sure yet; that depends on what Stone has to say to me.” He ordered a drink, made a toasting motion, and took a gulp. “Well?” he said to Stone.