18

Stone was at his desk the next morning, making a list of dinner invitees, when Joan buzzed him. “Holly Barker on one.”

Stone punched the button. “Holly? How are you?”

“As well as can be expected,” she said.

“You sound as if the White House is wearing you down.”

“At times. Being national security adviser is even harder than I thought it would be.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Stone, I want to ask a very great favor of you. Actually, the president and I.”

“How could I possibly refuse?”

“Do you remember Major Ian Rattle?”

“The name is familiar.”

“Felicity Devonshire’s dinner party in London.”

“Ah, the MI6 guy who was with your assistant, Millicent...”

“Millie Martindale.”

“Got him.”

“He’s arriving in D.C. this afternoon, surreptitiously, and we have to hide him for a week or two.”

“Hide him from whom or what?”

“I’ll explain that when I see you.”

“You’re seeing me?”

“I’ll be in New York tomorrow to give a lecture at the Foreign Policy Association.”

“Will you be here overnight?”

“Yep. You free?”

“No, but I’m having a dinner party, and you’re invited. Major Rattle, too.”

“We’d love to,” she said. “He’s traveling with me. Why don’t we come early and I’ll explain what’s going on?”

“Do you need a bed for the night?”

“I have an apartment there, remember? If I don’t stay there once in a while the doormen will forget who I am and deny me entry to the building.”

“Okay. You can be my date, and I’ll ask an odd woman for Rattle.”

“If anyone knows an odd woman, it’s you.”

“See you at six, then?”

“Right.” They hung up.

Stone wrote down Holly and Rattle, then Dino and Viv, Bill Eggers and his wife, Herbie Fisher and whoever his girl might be, and Mike Freeman and date. He added Caroline Woodhouse as the odd woman, then he gave the list to Joan and asked her to have invitations hand-delivered.

“The two goons are out there again,” Joan said, nodding toward the street.

“Which two goons?”

“That ex-cop and his shadow.”

“Ryan and Al Parisi?”

“That’s the ones.”

“I don’t think we can do anything about them.”

“What happened to the dangerous-looking ones?”

“Dino had them busted last night. I don’t know if he was able to hold them, or if they’ll be out soon.”

“Gee, I miss them,” she said.

“Let me know if they turn up.”

The phone rang, and Joan answered. She pressed the hold button and said, “Dino’s on the line,” before walking out the door.

Stone picked up. “Good morning.”

“You were kind of down last night. Feeling better?”

“I was just tired — a good night’s sleep did the trick.”

“First one for a while, huh?”

“Don’t start.”

“I thought you’d like to know about Frank and Charlie.”

“I certainly would.”

“They were both carrying, but they had permits. I’m going to see what I can do about getting those revoked.”

“Good idea.”

“When my guys searched the car they found what they called a kidnap kit: black hood, duct tape, plastic ties, et cetera.”

“Is that illegal?”

“I’m afraid not, but it says something about their intentions.”

“Can you hold them?”

“They lawyered up immediately. They’re already on the street.”

“Not my street — not yet, anyway. Parisi hasn’t forgotten about me, though. Ryan and Al Parisi are parked on my block again.”

“I’ll see what, if anything, I can do about that.”

“Thanks. We’re on for tomorrow night. Holly Barker is coming in from Washington, and she’s bringing a Brit from MI6 that I have to hide for a while.”

“Hide from what?”

“Evildoers of some sort, I guess. She promised to explain tomorrow.”

“Aren’t you attracting enough evildoers of your own, without some Brit drawing more?”

“Oh, what the hell, another chunk of bait in the house can’t hurt. Listen, I’ve got to go to Queens for Perado’s closing. See you tomorrow night.” They hung up.

He grabbed his briefcase and buzzed Joan. “I’m headed to Queens for my closing. Please buzz Fred and ask him to meet me in the garage.”

“Will do.”

Stone went to the garage and got into the Bentley. Fred got in and entered the address into the navigator, buzzed the door open, and backed into the street. The garage door closed behind them, and Stone got a glimpse of two uniforms, who were bent over the hood of a car, talking to Ryan and young Parisi. “I don’t think we’ll have a tail this morning,” Stone said.

“I hope I don’t fall asleep, sir,” Fred replied.


The closing was held in a conference room in Marty Winkle’s offices, and it went smoothly. Winkle and Pepe Perado signed a stack of documents, a cashier’s check with a lot of zeros changed hands, and the two men shook on it. Cerveza Perado was officially a New York presence.

Stone walked out of the building with Pepe. “Can I give you a ride to the airport?”

“Thanks,” Pepe said, “but my two guardians are taking care of that. They’ll walk me all the way to the gate. I’m sending my son to New York next week to manage the new company. Marty and his son are staying on for a month, maybe two, to help with the transition, and I gave Brad Kelly’s brother-in-law a nice check as a finder’s fee. He’ll get a promotion soon, too.”

“I know you’ll be glad to get home, Pepe.”

“Not all that glad. I’ve enjoyed New York. I’ve already got a realtor looking for an apartment. I’ll be back often, I expect, once Gino Parisi is dealt with.”

“That’s two of us who want Parisi dealt with.”

“How are you going to manage that?”

“I’ve got an idea, but it’s half-baked — I’ve got some more thinking to do on that subject.” Then Stone looked up and saw Frank and Charlie’s car waiting in the street. He shook Pepe’s hand, and his two guards appeared and took him to their car.

Stone got back into the Bentley. “We’ve got a tail again,” he said to Fred. “How the hell did they know where we were?”

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