A Safe House

14

Stone’s phone rang at mid-morning. “Hello?”

“It’s Lance,” he said in his smooth baritone.

“Good morning.”

“I saw your little shot at Wallace Slade in today’s New York Post. Very nice. It’s being picked up by the TV news people and will probably feature on the Sunday shows this weekend.”

“Excellent,” Stone replied. “I didn’t know it would work to such good effect.”

“Somebody stuck a microphone in Slade’s face, and his comment was: ‘Them Limeys don’t git Texans.’ ”

“Perfect. He insults the English and Texans in one fell swoop. By the way, good accent.”

“I thought that, too. How are you and Jenna getting along?” Lance asked.

“Quite nicely, thank you.”

“She’s now scheduled to testify before the committee on Monday morning at nine, in New York. They’re investigating something else up there and want to grab her testimony while they’re at it, so you’d better have her back on Sunday evening.”

“I think we can manage that.”

“I understand you had dinner with one of the law lords last night.”

“News travels fast,” Stone said. “It’s almost as if you were head of the CIA or something.”

“One hears things.”

“Where do I have to deliver Jenna on Monday morning?”

“The committee is meeting at the New York Public Library, at Fifth Avenue and Forty-Second Street.” He gave Stone a room number. “I’d be there half an hour early if I were you. And don’t come armed. You’ll just be searched and stripped of it.”

“I assume there’ll be others there who will be armed and playing on our team,” Stone said.

“A fair assumption. C-SPAN is televising the hearing, so I’ll be tuned in.”

“I’ll ask Jenna to wave at you.”

“You do that.” Lance hung up.

“Was that Lance?” Jenna asked.

“Yes, and the news is good. You’re testifying Monday morning in New York.”

“How convenient,” she said. “I assume you won’t deny me shelter there.”

“Nor sustenance,” Stone replied. “Shall we fly on Sunday, or do you have shopping to do in preparation for the hearing?”

“I do. May we fly on Friday? Then I’ll have Saturday to sack the shops.”

“I’ll order the airplane for Friday.” He passed the news on to Dino and Viv and called Faith to give her instructions.

Before cocktails, Stone moved the firearms to the gun cabinet in the library and loaded all the weapons. Leaving their safeties on.

“Did you leave one up the spout?” Dino asked, when Stone pointed out their location.

“No, I think the sound of a pump shotgun being racked could be a useful deterrent.”

“Quite right,” Dino agreed.

Thus armed, they sat down to dinner.

After dinner, Stone and Jenna rolled in the hay for a while. When she was asleep — sex rendered Jenna, like a man, unconscious — he got into some dark clothes and met Dino downstairs, at the gun cabinet. They each took a riot gun, and they both already carried a handgun.

“All right,” Stone said, “you go out the back door and turn left. I’ll go out the front and turn right. We’ll meet on the west side of the house, then continue around the perimeter, say three rounds.”

“Okay,” Dino said.

They filled their pockets with shells and magazines and started for their respective doors. “Oh, Dino,” Stone said, as they walked away from each other.

“Yeah?”

“If you shoot me, I’ll be really pissed off.”

“Gotcha.”

Stone walked out the front door and closed it quietly behind him. He stood on the front porch and looked around, letting his eyes become accustomed to the darkness. When he could see as much as he expected to see, he walked down the front steps to the driveway and started walking, visually sweeping the area.

A car drove past the front gate and continued south, without slowing, and Stone paid no further attention to it. At the corner of the house, he stopped and made a slow, 360-degree turn, looking and listening as hard as he could. Nothing. He continued slowly around the corner and began to pay attention to the shrubs and flower beds.

“Bang! You’re dead!” Dino said, causing Stone to jump about a foot.

Stone turned and found him sitting on a wrought-iron bench.

“That wasn’t funny,” he said.

“Are you kidding me? It was hilarious.”

“If you aren’t careful, you’re going to end up with a snoot full of buckshot.”

“You know,” Dino said, “if we continue these circuits, we’ll just make ourselves tired. Let’s just sit here for a while and let them come to us.”

“Good idea,” Stone said, sitting down next to him.

They were quiet for a while, then Dino said, “So, after Jenna testifies on Monday, this is over, right?”

“I suppose so. I don’t see how drawing this out can be good for Wallace Slade.”

“Neither can I. Have you noticed how hard it is to use the title ‘Senator’ in front of his name? I just can’t manage it.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Jenna is a sweet kid,” Dino said.

“If you consider forty a kid, then she is.”

“If they’re cute, they’re a kid,” Dino said.

“I’m sure there’s an organization somewhere that would have you publicly drawn and quartered for saying that.”

“Yeah, but their reach doesn’t extend to an iron bench in the garden at Windward Hall.”

“You have a point, but don’t start letting yourself talk that way.”

“I’ve always talked that way.”

“I know that, but if you talk that way anywhere near a TV camera in New York, you’ll find yourself in early retirement.”

“Point taken. I’ll make an effort to mend my ways.”

Dead ahead of them, in the shrubbery, there was a loud, scrambling noise. They each dove in a different direction, racking their shotguns as they flew through the air.

Stone landed and stayed perfectly still. Then a large shape emerged from the bushes, and to Stone’s shock, it made a mooing noise.

“Shit!” Dino yelled. “Do you keep cows here?”

“No,” Stone replied. “It must have wandered in from a neighbor’s place. He’ll probably come looking for it in the morning.”

“Well, that’s enough excitement for me for one night,” Dino said, standing and brushing himself off. “I’m turning in.”

“I guess I will, too,” Stone said.

“And if that cow has any complaints, we’re going to have steak for dinner tonight,” Dino said.