Stone Barrington: The Short Forever - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"See anyone you know?" Hedger asked.
"Yes, Arrington Calder," Stone said.
"The movie star's widow? I think she killed him, don't you?"
"No."
"How do you know her?"
"We've been friends for a long time."
"Oh, wait a minute, I remember now; you were involved with her trial, weren't you?"
"She was never tried," Stone replied. "Her lawyer and I got it quashed at a hearing. She was plainly innocent."
"Yeah, sure," Hedger said.
Stone zipped up and went to wash his hands. Hedger was right behind him.
"I saw someone else," Stone said.
"Who?"
"The man who interrogated me. At least, I think it was he; I only got a glimpse of him, and he wasn't very well lighted the last time I saw him."
"Where is he sitting?"
"I don't know; when I looked for him again, he was gone."
"You mean, he left?"
"I don't know; he may have just moved elsewhere in the room."
"Did he see you?"
"I don't know."
"Try and spot him again, and find a way to let me know where he is. I'm at table sixteen."
"All right. There's something else we have to talk about, but we can't do it now."
"How about lunch tomorrow in the Connaught grill? One o'clock?"
"Fine, see you then."
Stone left first and went back to his table. He took the scenic route, wandering among the tables, and then, over near the doors to the garden, he saw the man, who was raptly listening to an elderly woman seated next to him. Table twelve, he noted. He looked at the man as closely as he dared. Was it his inquisitor, or was he simply a bald, bullet-headed man? Stone wished he could hear his voice; that would complete the identification. The man never looked at him, and he made his way back to his table and Arrington.
She was gone. Dancing had begun, and he spotted her on the floor with a man from their table. He took a c.o.c.ktail napkin, drew a circle, and wrote on it, Table Twelve. He marked the bald man's position and gave it to a waiter. "Please take this to Mr. Hedger, at table sixteen; he's the one with the mustache."
The waiter departed, and Stone followed him with his gaze to Hedger's table. He saw Hedger read the note, then tuck it into a pocket. He didn't immediately look at table twelve, but a moment later he let his gaze run in that direction. Then he looked toward Stone and shrugged.
Stone looked back at table twelve, but the man was no longer there. He noticed a door to the garden open, near the table. Stone looked back at Hedger and shrugged.
Arrington came back to the table and took Stone's hand. "Come dance with me," she said. She led him to the floor, and the band was playing something romantic.
Stone held her in his arms, something he had always loved doing, and moved them around the floor.
"You were always a wonderful dancer," she said. "Vertically or horizontally." She kissed him on the neck.
"Let's get out of here," Stone said.
"I can't; I'm a guest of the amba.s.sador, and it would be rude."
"Dinner tomorrow night?"
"Where?"
"The Connaught restaurant, at nine?"
"You're on."
She put her head on his shoulder, and he whirled her happily around the floor.
Stone looked back at table twelve; the man was still not there. "If you jiggled the place cards, you must have access to tonight's guest list," he said to Arrington.
"I suppose," she replied.
"Do you think you could get me a list of the people at table twelve, with their positions marked?"
"I suppose so, but not tonight."
"Will you bring it with you tomorrow evening? It's important."
"Anything for you," she said, and let her tongue play lightly over his ear.
Stone didn't complain.
37.
STONE WAS ALREADY AT AN ALCOVE table in the Connaught grill when Stanford Hedger arrived for lunch. Hedger sat down and ordered a pink gin, something Stone had never heard an American do.
"What is a pink gin, anyway?"
"Gin with a dash of Angostura bitters," Hedger replied. "I doubt if you'd like it."
"I doubt it, too," Stone replied, sipping his Chardonnay.
"Did you enjoy your evening?" Hedger asked. "I saw you and Mrs. Carter dancing."
"Yes, thank you, and thank you, too, for the use of the amba.s.sador's car."
"Any time," Hedger replied. "When the amba.s.sador's not using it, I use it myself, sometimes. Tell me, is it hard to dance with someone's tongue in your ear?"
"On the contrary," Stone replied. "It helps."
Hedger laughed. "I never saw your little bald man, you know; are you sure he wasn't a figment of your imagination?"
"Isn't his presence why you had me invited?"
"Well, yes; but I fully expected to see him, if you did."
"Why did you think he'd be there?"
"Just a hunch. Last night's dinner, if you didn't know, was for the foreign diplomatic corps. I reckoned if he was anybody important in an emba.s.sy, he'd be there."
"Good guess," Stone replied. "And why did you think he'd be somebody important in an emba.s.sy?"
"His accents, as you described them, one overlaid on the other. Eton is a very exclusive school, you know, and everybody who spends his youth there comes out with that accent, even the foreigners. Remember Abba Eban, the Israeli amba.s.sador to the UN?"
"Yes."
"Same accent."
"Now that you mention it."
Hedger looked at the menu. "I'll have half a dozen oysters and the Dover sole," he said to the waiter, "off the bone, and I'd prefer a female, if there's one available."
"I'll have the cold soup and the sole," Stone said. "Should I order the female, too?"
"If you enjoy roe," Hedger replied.
Stone nodded to the waiter.
"And bring us a bottle of that lovely Sancerre," Hedger said. He turned to Stone. "Now, what's up? Why did you want to see me?"
"Things have taken a rather ominous turn," Stone said, "and I thought you might have some advice on how I should proceed."
"Tell me."
"I followed Lance Cabot yesterday from his house to an antiques market in Chelsea. Do you know his friends Ali and Sheila?"
"Oh, yes; he met them when we were in Cairo. I believe they were complicit in the bombing of my safe house there."
"Turns out they had a shop in the market. Also turns out that I wasn't the only one following Lance; so were the two men who abducted me and took me to the interrogation. They were in the same Daimler limousine."
"Did you make a note of the number plate?"
"No," Stone replied, a little embarra.s.sed that he had not thought of that.
"Next time you get the chance," Hedger said. "It would help."
"Certainly. Anyway, the two men followed Lance into the building. I went inside and found Ali and Sheila's shop, phoned Lance there, and told them to get out. I got them into a cab, and as we drove around the building, a bomb destroyed the shop."
Hedger's considerable eyebrows went up. "Sounds like these people are getting serious."
"They're not the only ones," Stone said. "Lance called Erica and told her to get out of the house; then they went to the home of a friend, and I had a look around Lance's house; got the keys from Monica, Erica's sister."
"Oh, good," Hedger said, obviously pleased. "I a.s.sumed you searched it thoroughly."
"I did. There was absolutely nothing that revealed anything about Lance or whatever business he's conducting."
"I'm not really surprised," Hedger said. "Lance is too smart to leave sensitive materials lying around."
"Then I had a look in the wine cellar, where I found a small office, concealed behind a couple of wine racks." He gave Hedger a description of how he got in. "There was a desk, a computer, and filing cabinets, all secured. As I was trying to get into the computer, I heard someone entering the house; more than one person. I shut myself up in the office and waited for them to leave. After a few minutes, two men came into the wine cellar; a moment later, another person came in and shot them both." He had Hedger's undivided attention now.
Their first courses arrived, and Stone waited for the waiter to depart before continuing. "When I got out of the office, they were both dead-two small-caliber shots to the head, in both cases."
"I hope to G.o.d you didn't call the police."
"No, I got the h.e.l.l out of there, after removing any fingerprints I might have left on various surfaces."
"Good," Hedger said, relieved.
"The two men were my former abductors."
Hedger looked surprised. "Oh, really?"
"They were carrying Greek pa.s.sports."
"Greek?" Hedger grunted. "Probably false."
"They looked good to me."
"Would you recognize a false pa.s.sport?"
"I've seen a few, but to answer your question, probably not a good one."
"Well, let's sum up," Hedger said.
"Not yet, there's more."
"More?"