“The Arnage—that’s the saloon car—or the convertible?”
“The Arnage.”
“This way.” He led Stone across the large sales floor. “Would this be for UK use or export?”
“UK,” Stone lied, thinking that the young man would send him to an American dealer if he said otherwise.
“Here we are,” the salesman said, stopping before a gleaming black example of the car. “This one is in black with Autumn upholstery.”
“May I see the engine?”
The salesman opened the car’s hood to reveal a large engine bay, stuffed with equipment.
“What is the displacement and horsepower?” Stone asked, still unable to spot Dino.
“Six point eight liters, turbocharged; four hundred horsepower and six hundred and fifteen pounds of torque, available at low revs.”
“Acceleration and top speed?”
“Zero to sixty miles per hour in five point nine seconds. Unfortunately, the top speed is electronically limited to a hundred and fifty-five miles per hour.”
“Very impressive,” Stone said, opening the driver’s-side door and getting behind the right-side steering wheel. While the salesman droned on about the car’s features, Stone was able to sweep the square from his seat, and he still could not spot Dino. Surely he hadn’t walked too fast. He got out of the car.
“Would you like a brochure?” the salesman asked.
“Yes, thank you, and your card.”
The salesman dropped both into an envelope and handed it to Stone. “We hope to hear from you,” he said.
“Thank you.” Stone walked out into the square; still no sign of Dino on the busy streets. Had he followed at all? He walked back to the Connaught and went up to his suite. He was relaxing, reading the Bentley brochure, when Dino let himself in from next door. Half an hour had passed since Stone returned to the hotel.
“Where have you been?” Stone asked. “Did I move too fast for you?”
“Nope, and not for the four-man team following you, either.”
“There were four men following me?”
“Well, two of the men were women. They were very good, too, working both sides of the street, changing places. I don’t know if I would have made them, if they’d been following me, but since I was following you, it was easier to see what was going on.”
“Any idea of nationality?”
“They didn’t appear ethnic, so I’d say English or American.”
“What about the shoes?”
“The men wore expensive shoes with thin soles, so they’re not cops, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No thick soles and white socks, then?”
“Nope.”
Stone put down his brochure. “My guess is, it’s Hedger’s people.”
“They must want Lance pretty bad.”
“Then why aren’t they following Lance?”
“Maybe they are.”
“Maybe they are, at that; it’s something to keep in mind. What did you think of Lance?”
“What struck me,” Dino said, “was how much alike the two of you are.”
“How do you mean?”
“Jesus, Stone, didn’t you see the guy? He’s waspy, blondish, beautifully dressed. He has that languid look that only very confident people have.”
“Or very good actors.”
“Well, you’re not that confident, and you’re not that good an actor; from my view of the conversation, you were the guy who wanted something, and he was the guy who was going to decide whether you get it.”
“Just the opposite,” Stone said. “He wants a quarter of a million dollars from me, and I’m demanding full disclosure; he’s not ready to tell me yet.”
“Do you have a quarter of a million dollars?”
“Yes, but I’m not about to give it to Lance; he doesn’t know that, of course.”
“You better be careful, Stone; you start promising people money, and they’re liable to get very upset if you don’t come through with it.”
“You have a point.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to make a couple of phone calls.”
“And the first one will be to Arrington, won’t it?”
“Oh, shut up and get out of here; I’d like some privacy.”
“I’ll go to my room and see if there’s a cricket game on TV.”
“Cricket match.”
“Whatever.” Dino went to his own room.
Stone picked up the phone and dialed the number of the Carlyle hotel in New York, which was lodged in his memory, and asked for Mrs. Calder. The phone rang several times, and then the voice mail kicked in.
“Arrington, it’s Stone. I want to apologize for the other evening; it was inexcusable leaving you like that, but I really didn’t have a choice. I tried to catch up with you at Heathrow, but you got through security before I could. I’d like to explain, if you’ll let me. I’d also like to see you again, but I won’t be back in New York for at least a few more days. Please call me at the Connaught.” He left the number and hung up, then he got out his address book and called Samuel Bernard at his home in Washington Square.
“Good morning, Stone,” the old man said, “or good afternoon, if you’re still in London.”
“I’m still in London, sir, and I wanted to ask for some more advice.”
“Go right ahead.”
“Bartholomew is Hedger, as you suspected, and he and I have parted company.”