Stone Barrington: The Short Forever Part 35

47.

AFTER BREAKFAST, SARAH LEFT THE house, and Stone called Lance Cabot.

"h.e.l.lo?" He sounded sleepy.

"It's Stone; I'm ready to deal on this thing, if you're ready to talk."

"How soon can you get the money together?"

"I faxed my broker yesterday; the funds can be transferred with a phone call. But not until you've told me everything."

"Lunch?"

"Where?"

"At the Connaught again?"

"I've moved out of the Connaught."

"Why?"

"I discovered yesterday that Hedger had put a tail on me. Last night, I moved to another hotel, a lot farther from the emba.s.sy."

"Which hotel?"

"I'll keep that to myself."

"What's the matter, do you think Hedger and I are in league?"

"I doubt that."

"How can I reach you?"

"I've rented a cellphone." Stone gave him the number.

"All right, there's a restaurant out west of London called the Waterside Inn, in a village called Bray; do you know it?"

"I'll find it."

"I'll pick you up, if you like."

"No, I have some other things to do; I'll meet you there."

"One o'clock?"

"Fine." Stone hung up and called Mason's number.

"Yes?"

"I'm on for lunch with Cabot at one o'clock."

"I'll send one of our taxis."

"No, it's at a place called the Waterside Inn, in Bray."

"Oh, yes; I hope Cabot is paying; the Waterside is not in my budget."

"It's his turn. I'm meeting him there; I'll need a car that pa.s.ses for a rental, but nothing cheap, please, since Cabot is buying lunch."

"The car will be outside the house at noon; do you know how to get to Bray?"

"Haven't a clue."

"I'll send along a map."

"Thank you."

"I'm also going to wire you."

"Oh, no you're not; with Cabot's background, he'll know what to look for."

"Not the way we do it, he won't; we have something quite new. Someone will be there at half past eleven to equip you; if you don't like the equipment, you don't have to wear it, but I urge you to; if Cabot is going to explain himself, we'll want it recorded."

"I don't want a tail of your people, either; he might spot it."

"There'll be a van tracking the car and listening to the wire, but it will be at least a mile away, so don't worry."

"I'll think about it."

"Good-bye." Mason hung up.

Dino, who had heard Stone's half of the conversation, spoke up. "I'll tail you."

"No, no; Mason is going to have a van tracking me from a mile away. You take the morning off."

"And do what?"

Stone tossed him the Times. "There's a very nice exhibition of Royal evening gowns at the Victoria and Albert Museum."

"Yeah, sure; where can I do some shopping? If I come home without something for Mary Ann, she'll kill me in my sleep."

"Try Harrod's; it's an easy walk from here." Stone found a London map in the kitchen and showed Dino Harrod's. "There's a really good pub right here, for lunch," he said, showing him the Grenadier, in Wilton Row. "King's Road is down here, if you want to do some further shopping; Hyde Park is up here, if you feel like a stroll. It's all very close together."

"Okay," Dino said. "It's Harrod's; anything else will have to wait until I see how my feet do. After walking a beat, I swore I'd never walk farther than to the can, if I could help it."

"There are taxis everywhere."

"Right. You got any English money? I didn't have time before I left New York."

Stone gave him a wad of notes. "Spend it in good health; it's Hedger's."

"That'll make it more fun," Dino said.

At eleven-thirty sharp, the doorbell rang, and Stone opened the door to find Carpenter standing there, holding a briefcase. "Come in," he said.

She smiled, the first time she had exhibited teeth, and they were very nice teeth, indeed. "Thank you." She stepped in and took a seat in the drawing room. "Horrible decor," she said, looking around.

"A dead man did it."

"I'm not surprised. Please bring me the jacket you're wearing to lunch."

Stone went away and came back with a blue blazer.

"Nothing with bra.s.s b.u.t.tons," she said. "You should wear a suit, anyway; the Waterside Inn is quite elegant."

Stone went away and came back with a suit jacket. She examined the b.u.t.tons and nodded, then opened her briefcase. She removed a small leather case, which held a selection of b.u.t.tons. "Oh, good," she said; "an excellent match." She took some scissors and snipped off one of the four small b.u.t.tons on Stone's left sleeve, then deftly sewed on one of her b.u.t.tons. "There," she said. "Good match?"

"Excellent. Do you mean that tiny b.u.t.ton is a bug?"

"In conjunction with this," she said, holding up a fat Mont Blanc pen, made of sterling silver. She clipped it into Stone's inside left-hand pocket. "The b.u.t.ton transmits to the pen, and the pen transmits up to three miles, but we'll keep the van within two, just to be sure. They pick up the transmission and record it." She took out the pen and unscrewed the cap. "It's a working pen, too."

Stone examined the pen and tried to unscrew the other end.

"You can't do that without a special tool; don't worry, it has a fresh rollerball refill inside; you won't run out of ink."

"Good," Stone said, replacing the pen in the jacket pocket.

"The only limitation is that the b.u.t.ton has to be within six feet of whoever you're talking to. I used a sleeve b.u.t.ton because you can put your hands on the table and get it closer to Cabot. Don't have any conversations with him from across the room."

"I'll remember that," he said. "Tell me, how did a nice girl like you get into this business?"

"Isn't that what you're supposed to ask a wh.o.r.e?" she asked wryly.

"Spies, too."

"I'm not a spy; I catch spies."

"Come on, how?"

"I was recruited my last year at Oxford; my father had worked for the same firm, but he was killed in the line of duty when I was sixteen. I suppose I wanted to finish his job. How did you get from being a cop to being a lawyer?"

"I was recruited for the police department my last year in law school," Stone said. "Fourteen years later, I was retired for medical reasons. I took the bar exam, and a friend found a place for me with his law firm."

"You look pretty healthy to me," she said, looking him up and down.

"It was a bullet in the knee. I got over it, except in cold weather."

"Oh," she said, retrieving a map from her briefcase. "Sit down, and I'll show you how to get to the Waterside Inn."

Stone sat on the arm of her chair and caught a faint whiff of perfume. He wondered if intelligence agents often wore perfume to work.

"Here we are, in Chester Street; you go down to the corner, turn left at Hyde Park Corner, that's the big roundabout, here, and go straight out Knightsbridge, past Harrod's, straight on out, as if you were going to Heathrow. You'll end up on the M4 motorway; get off at the Bray exit and follow the signs to the village. You'll see signs for the inn once you're in the village. It's at the end of a street that runs dead into the river, on your left."

"What river?"

"The Thames; it's pretty much the river around here. Have you driven on the right side before?"

"No, but it doesn't look too hard."

"It isn't, but watch out for the first right-hand turn you make. Americans invariably turn into the right lane, instead of the left. The streets are littered with smashed rental cars." She stood up. "Well, I have to go. Your car should be here shortly; I'd allow three-quarters of an hour for the drive; it could take an hour if traffic is bad."

He walked her to the door, and with a final, fleeting glance at him and a little smile, she left. He wished he had more time to get to know her.

48.

AT TWELVE O'CLOCK, THE DOORBELL rang again. A man Stone had never seen before held out a set of car keys. "It's the Jaguar S-type, parked along there, British Racing Green," he said. "Here's a car rental receipt from a firm in Knightsbridge; sign it here and here, and fill in your American driver's license number. Ring Mason when you're finished with the car and someone will collect it."

"Thank you," Stone said. The man left. Stone filled out the form, then turned to Dino. "You want a lift to Harrod's? I'm going right past it."

"Yeah, sure."

"Let's go, then." Stone put on his jacket, checked to be sure the pen was still in place, and led the way out the door, locking it behind him. Sarah had given them each a key.

"Here we are," Stone said, climbing into the Jaguar and adjusting the seat.

Dino got into the pa.s.senger seat, and Stone pulled out of the parking place, went to the corner, and turned left.

"Isn't there supposed to be a steering wheel over here?" Dino asked.

"Nope, it's over here."

"It's very weird sitting here with no controls," Dino said. "I keep wanting to put on the brakes."

"Relax," Stone said, negotiating Hyde Park Corner. "That's the Duke of Wellington's house over there," he said, pointing, "and that's Hyde Park behind it."

"Got it," Dino said.

They drove a couple of blocks through heavy traffic, and Stone pulled over in front of the department store. "Here's Harrod's," he said.