Criminal Mischief

57

Back in their cabin, Stone watched Brio shed her bikini, which didn’t take long, and they made love in a relaxed manner for a while.

Finally, when they were resting, Stone said, “Any chance you’ll get an assignment in New York?”

“Maybe. If the AIC shoots himself before we get back. I think it’s more likely that the director will send me to Washington for seasoning in the new job. But, if somebody retires, or screws up and he has a need for an AD, then I could end up anywhere.”

“In your heart of hearts, where would you want to be?”

“Maybe West Coast, San Francisco or even L.A.”

“Not New York?”

She slapped him on the ass smartly. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Are we going to have a lot of press to greet us at Teterboro?”

“Now, that’s an interesting question. I haven’t made a move in that direction, but the director could have, if he feels he needs some favorable PR, and who doesn’t? I plan to deliver Zanian and then be ready for anything.”

“I think you should be ready to become the most famous FBI assistant director in the Bureau,” Stone said. “Unless your director makes a conscious effort to keep you out of it, the press will sniff you out for the details, and if you won’t talk to them, they’ll make it up.”

“God, I hadn’t thought about that.”

“You’d better whip up a few quotable lines and take notes, then brace yourself. Staying at my house would be better than trying to hide in a hotel. All you need is a car with a driver who doesn’t know where he’s going until you tell him. You can send your bags to the house with me, then have your driver let you out a block away. There’s a secret entrance to the garden behind my house. I can meet you there and make you disappear.”

“Well, now, I haven’t been thinking ahead, have I?”

“Perhaps not.” He gave her directions to the garden entrance and a key. Then he took a shower and had a shave. Brio joined him for the shower, but after she’d scrubbed his back, he left her to it and went to get dressed.

The yacht’s crew had pressed his tux and laundered his other things, even polished his shoes. He left his cabin, and someone was cleaning the staircase he normally used, so he walked farther aft toward another one. Then there was that noise. Instantly, he thought of Wilcox’s Dickensian dream and realized that the sound in his dream had been the dragging of chains.

Stone froze and listened. All quiet for a moment. He came to a big watertight door, then stopped and put his ear to it. Nothing. He thought about spinning the big wheel on the door and going even farther aft, but Said might not view such actions as those of a gentlemanly guest. So he took the stairs and emerged on deck. He found Wilcox already enjoying his first drink.

“Henry,” Stone said, joining him. “Do you know...”

But a crew member appeared, took his drink order, and poured it. When they were alone again, Stone said, “Henry, I’ve been thinking about your dream.”

“My Tiny Tim dream?”

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

“Did you hear a noise in your dream? Something like chains being dragged?”

Wilcox sat up. “Yes, I did.”

“In your travels around this yacht, have you encountered anything that looked like a brig?”

“ ‘A brig’?”

“Like a jail cell on a naval vessel.”

“No, but I don’t know what’s aft of that watertight door near my cabin. What are you thinking?”

“That there may be someone imprisoned on the yacht.”

“Well, that would be right in line with the sultan’s view on dungeons. An unruly crew member, perhaps?”

“Perhaps. I was thinking Viktor Zanian.”

“But why?”

“Maybe he bought a ticket, paid for with some of his ill-gotten gains.”

“A ticket to Port Said?”

“Originally to Cairo, now the destination has changed.”

“Why would he want that?”

“To get him out of the Sultanate before somebody decides to let the sultan out of his dungeon?”

Wilcox shook his head. “I don’t see that.”

“If he managed to free up some millions of his stash in the world’s banks it might interest Said enough for him to get Zanian out of the Sultanate. I mean, the commanding general is mighty interested in my two million and a quarter. Zanian has a lot more than that, and it might be enough to interest Said, if his prisoner can get his hands on some of it.”

“That’s a rational view, I think.”

“Zanian is a wily enough character to have some of the money he stole stashed someplace where the government can’t get their hands on it. All he would need is his freedom and a computer.”

“And a little help from Said,” Wilcox said, thoughtfully.