Distant Thunder

25

Stone was at his desk the following morning when Joan buzzed him. “Lance, on one.”

“Good morning, Lance.”

“How was your dinner meeting last evening?” Lance drawled.

“Not unpleasant.”

“Did you like him?”

“I didn’t dislike him.”

“Where is he now?”

“He gave me no clue to his current whereabouts. He’s a careful man.”

“If a bit distrustful.”

“I had the impression that he was probably a good judge of whom to mistrust.”

“Did you?”

“Does he trust you, Lance?”

“I haven’t had an opportunity to ask him.”

“Do you have knowledge of his quarrels with the Russians?”

“I’ve picked up tidbits.”

“Anything you’d like to share?”

“He distrusts them.”

“Well, they keep trying to kill him. That would do it for most people. Was he a good officer when he was still on board?”

“Better than average.”

“Then he knows how to stay alive.”

“What did you two talk about?”

“The Russians, mostly. He passed on dessert and left early.”

“An old trick from the Farm.”

“I guessed.”

“Did you offer him succor?”

“He seemed very self-sufficient.”

“My advice to you is don’t get too fond of him.”

“Is he going somewhere?”

“Wherever he likes, I suspect.”

“How do you rate his chances against the Russians?”

“He has an edge, since they don’t know how to find him.”

“How do you know they don’t?”

“Because they haven’t. I’m sure we’ll hear about it if they do.”

“Would he be welcome at home?”

“Possibly. That would have to be negotiated.”

“Would you like him to know that, should I hear from him again?”

“You can pass it along, if you like.”

“I will, if I do.”

“Don’t weigh too heavily on his side.”

“I remain neutral. I’m happy to be an honest broker, should you need one.”

“At your usual thousand dollars an hour?”

“Good help doesn’t come cheap, Lance. You can probably find an honest broker for two hundred an hour, but he won’t be honest, and he won’t be a broker.”

“Tell me about it. Oh, something you can pass on, should you hear from him again: Valery Majorov is back in the United States, last sighting yesterday, in New York.”

“I’ll mention that, if I have the opportunity.”

“I’m sure you can find him.”

“He didn’t leave a forwarding address.”

Lance hung up.

Stone checked his phone directory for the day before yesterday. Jack’s calling numbers were blocked.

Joan knocked at Stone’s door. “Got a minute?”

“Sure. Take a pew.”

“Does that mean I’m going to get a sermon?”

“Merely a figure of speech, but you might.”

“I’m going to sell my house.” Joan had inherited major money and real estate from an aunt.

“Is twenty-two rooms not enough?”

“It’s way too much. I bounce around like a pea in a rattle. I was happier next door.”

Stone had bought the house next door some time ago, to house his staff. “I’m glad you still think fondly of us.”

“How much should I ask?”

“Ask Margot Goodale.” She was a Realtor Stone recommended.

“Who would want to buy the place?”

“Somebody with too much money and no impulse control.”

“What, maybe fifteen, twenty mil?”

“Somewhere in there, would be my guess. It’s like every other house. Somebody will like it and want it. It’s Margot’s job to see that he can afford it before he sees it.”

“I guess.”

“Have you thought of carving out a floor for yourself?”

“Even then, it’s too much.”

“Then God bless you and good luck.”

“I’ll call Margot.” She went back to her office.