Stone Barrington: The Short Forever Part 45

"He was looking for Lance Cabot?"

"Yes."

"And so were you, I suppose."

"No."

"Look, I know very well that you're up to your ears in the Eastover matter, and I'm not in the least convinced that you had nothing to do with Hedger's death."

"May I speak to you alone for a moment?" Stone asked.

Throckmorton motioned for the detective to leave them.

"I think we both have a pretty good idea who might have dispatched Hedger, don't we?" Stone asked when they were alone.

Throckmorton sighed. "Yes, I suppose I do. He had all the skills; he was exSpecial Air Services, you know."

"I didn't know, but I'm not surprised. I don't suppose there's anything but suspicion to link him to Hedger's death?"

"He has half a dozen witnesses, all retired policemen, who swear he was in a card game at the time."

"Then I suppose you'll have to leave it."

"I wish I could; the Americans are very upset."

"Then let them solve it; they don't seem to have any compunctions about operating on your soil."

"No, they don't, do they?"

Stone didn't say anything for a moment. "May I have my pa.s.sport back, please?"

"Oh, yes." Throckmorton stood up, took it from his pocket and handed it to Stone.

"And my raincoat?"

"No. That's evidence. You'll be returning to New York, then?"

"Yes, today."

"Thank G.o.d," Throckmorton said. "I hope you never come back." He walked out of the room and the house without another word, followed by his detective, b.u.mping into Mason as he entered the house. The two men exchanged a long glance, but said nothing to each other.

"Good morning," Stone said to Mason. "Any news?"

"None I can give you," Mason replied. "I've come for your car, your pen, and your b.u.t.ton."

"Oh, yes." He had forgotten. He went into the kitchen, found a knife, and cut the b.u.t.ton from his sleeve.

"What are you doing?" Dino asked.

"I'll tell you later." He went back into the drawing room and handed Mason the b.u.t.ton, pen, and car keys.

"Thank you," Mason said, then turned to go.

"There's nothing you can tell me?" Stone asked.

"It's not my place," Mason replied. "Thank you for your a.s.sistance; you got your pa.s.sport back?"

"Yes."

"I shouldn't delay leaving the country, if I were you."

"I'll be gone before sundown," Stone replied.

"Yes, sundown; that's when you Americans get out of town, isn't it?"

"Only in Westerns."

"Well, I suppose this has been a sort of Western, hasn't it? Except we didn't get the bad guy in the end."

"Will you?"

"A personal opinion?"

"Sure."

"We'll get Morgan one of these days. As for Cabot, I doubt if Morgan can identify him, so we don't actually have anything concrete on which to base a prosecution. And to tell you the truth, I doubt if my management would prosecute him if we did. This whole business has been terribly embarra.s.sing for them, as well as for Carpenter and me."

"I'm sorry," Stone said.

Mason shook his hand. "Don't be; in a week or two, the whole thing will have blown over for us. Take care."

"You, too." Stone showed him out.

Stone went into the kitchen, where Sarah had joined everybody. "I want everybody ready to leave for Heathrow in an hour," he said, checking his watch.

Sarah drove them, and walked Stone as far as the security checkpoint. "I had hoped you might stay for a long time," she said.

"I'm an American and a New Yorker. As much as I like it here, I know where home is."

"And after I went to all that trouble," she said.

Stone frowned. "Trouble?"

"Well, I had to, didn't I? Daddy is nearly broke, and if he'd lost any of the lawsuits, he'd lose everything, even the house. I had to do something; then you turned up, and it became even more imperative."

Stone stared at her. "Jesus, Sarah, you didn't . . ."

"Didn't I?" she asked. She kissed him and walked away.

Dino and Erica joined Stone. "You don't look so hot," Dino said.

"Just a little shaken," Stone said.

"What, she told you the truth?"

"Yes, in a way; nothing that I could testify to, though."

"Jesus, Stone, I knew all that; why didn't you?"

"I guess I didn't want to know."

"Yeah, you're good at that. Come on, we've got a rocket s.h.i.+p to catch."

As the Concorde roared down the runway, Stone looked at Erica sitting beside him, reading a magazine. "You don't seem terribly upset about Lance," he said.

She shrugged. "He told me something like this might happen someday. I'll hear from him, eventually."

Stone reflected that he was finally doing what "John Bartholomew" had hired him to do: bring home Erica Burroughs. He settled into his seat. What with the time change, they'd arrive in New York before they left London.

60.

STONE WAS AWAKENED EARLY THE following morning by the telephone. For a moment he was disoriented, thinking he was at the Connaught or in the late James Cutler's bed. He glanced at the clock; he had slept for twelve hours. "h.e.l.lo?" he croaked into the phone.

"It's Carpenter," she said. "You sound awful."

"I was asleep," he said.

"Oh, yes, the time difference; it's lunchtime here."

"Right."

"Mason said you wanted an update?"

"Yes, thanks."

"There's good news and bad news; which do you want first?"

Stone groaned. "The bad news."

"My management have categorically refused to reimburse you for your monetary loss. They feel no responsibility."

"That's sweet of them. Tell me the good news."

"It comes in two parts: first, we caught Morgan in Hawaii."

Stone sat up in bed. "Did he have my money with him?"

"No, he didn't."

Stone fell back into the bed. "Why are you torturing me?"

"I said the good news came in two parts."

"All right, what's part two?"

"Morgan checked in for his flight only shortly before it departed, so his luggage didn't make it aboard the aircraft."

Stone sat up in bed again. "The valise?"

"Heathrow security found it, waiting patiently to be put aboard the next flight. There was nearly half a million dollars in it."

"Yeeessss!" Stone shouted, punching the air.

"It will take a little sorting out, but I imagine that, in a few days, I can transfer it to your New York bank. Do you have the account number?"

Stone gave her his brokerage account number. "Send it there," he said, "back where it came from."

"Well, I suppose you'll be able to buy me dinner the next time I'm in New York."

"Yes, I suppose I will be able to afford that. Soon, I hope."

"You never know."

"What about Lance Cabot? Any word on him?"

"He was too slick for us. The motorcycle turned out to be his; we picked up his pilot when he returned for the machine; Cabot had given it to him, apparently."

"What did the pilot tell you?"

"He delivered Cabot to a farmer's field in France, he isn't sure where, since Cabot erased the coordinates from his GPS computer before leaving the airplane. He was met by two people, one of them answering to the description of Ali. We haven't been able to trace him from there, so we have to a.s.sume that both he and, ah, his luggage reached their destination. We don't know where that was."

"Mason said he probably wouldn't be prosecuted."

"That's right, but we would certainly make it difficult for him if he ever returned to Britain. I expect that he won't; he'll enjoy his ill-gotten gains in a more hospitable climate." She paused. "Well, I must run."

"May I know your name, now?"

She laughed. "All in good time. You take care of yourself."

"Listen, when do you think . . ." But she had gone.

Stone got out of bed, and by the time he had dressed and breakfasted, his secretary was at her desk, working away.