Hot Pursuit

39

Before dinner Stone called Dino’s cell.

“Hey there.”

“How’s your trip going, Dino?”

“Pretty well. I’m wrapped up, more or less, or will be by tomorrow afternoon.”

“How about Viv?”

“She’s got a meeting on Monday — nothing until then.”

“Good. Why don’t you meet us tomorrow night at Cliveden? It’s a country house hotel near a village called Taplow, in Berkshire — an hour’s drive from London.”

“I guess we can do that. Are you and I flying from there?”

“From Coventry, an hour’s drive north of the hotel. Book us a two-bedroom suite for two nights. The concierge will do it for you and get you a car and driver.”

“Hang on.” Dino covered the phone and conversed with his wife, then came back. “You’re on,” he said.

“Dino, did you come over here armed?”

“Nope, didn’t figure I’d need it. Have you got some reason to believe I might? Or you might?”

“Forget it. I’ll explain when I see you. No need to call back, unless the hotel is fully booked or there’s some other problem.”

“See you tomorrow.” Dino hung up.

They went down for drinks at seven-thirty and were greeted with a smile by the restaurant manager. “Good evening, Mr. Barrington. You’ll be happy to know that Mr. Reeves and his companion checked out this afternoon.”

“I’m delighted to hear it,” Stone replied. “Was there a third person in his party?”

“Yes, a gentleman he described as his pilot. We were fully booked, so we put him in a B&B up the road and loaned him our Land Rover to get around.”

“Ah, that explains a lot. Tell me, when did Mr. Reeves book in here?”

“The day before yesterday,” the man replied. “He asked if we knew where you were headed next — said he wanted to avoid running into you again. I didn’t know what to tell him.”

“Telling him nothing was just fine.”

“May I get you something to drink?”

Stone placed their order, and they found a seat by the fireplace.

“What were you and the manager talking about?” Pat asked.

“Paul Reeves. He booked into here the day before yesterday, same day I did, and Keyes came with him. They didn’t have room for him in the house and put him in a nearby B&B.”

“So it was Kevin that was shooting at us today?”

“Shooting near us.”

“Near enough for me.”

“Pat, tell me everything you know about Reeves, and please don’t leave anything out.”

She took a sip of her drink. “I’ve told you how I know him.”

“And now I want to know what you know about him.”

“When we met he described himself as an entrepreneur,” she said. “I don’t know about all his interests, but I do know he has some sort of electronics company and that it has to do with security equipment. He also mentioned cattle and oil. It’s hard to pin down somebody like him.”

“What did he mean, exactly, by ‘security equipment’?”

“I’m not sure — that was his description.”

“Would it include surveillance equipment?”

“Maybe, I’m not sure he mentioned alarm systems. When I was flying with him, he wanted to go to odd places.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, his airplane was based at Love Field, Dallas, but his trips took him mostly to small towns in the Midwest and the South. He said he chose them for cheap fuel, but that wasn’t always the case. He had a briefcase with him, and he wouldn’t leave it on the plane. Once I saw him exchange his briefcase for another, identical one, with a man at an FBO. I mean, I was sitting there and saw the guy come into the building. He just walked over to where Paul was sitting and handed him a briefcase, then picked up Paul’s and walked away. They didn’t even shake hands or say hello. I thought at the time it might have something to do with drugs.”

“More likely with cash,” Stone said. “If he were in the drug business, he’d have somebody else do the transfers, and they would probably be bigger than what he could get into a briefcase. On the other hand, he could pack a million, maybe two, into a briefcase.”

“I see what you mean.”

“You say you did the acceptance on his new Mustang. Did you attend the closing?”

“Yes.”

“How long did it take?”

“Five, ten minutes. He handed them a check, and they all signed some documents.”

“Was there any mention of a lender? Were any of the documents thick, with lots of signatures?”

“No.”

“Closing an airplane sale with a lender involved is like closing a real estate transaction where the buyer is taking out a mortgage. There are lots and lots of documents and signatures required. Sounds like he just gave them a cashier’s check.”

“I think you’re right. They didn’t call his bank while I was there.”

“How many individual flights did you make with Reeves in the new Mustang?”

“Half a dozen, eight. Kevin made some with him, too. His insurance company wanted him to have thirty hours with a mentor pilot, since it was his first jet. I guess I flew, maybe, twelve with him.”

“Did he have the briefcase with him on all those flights?”

“Yes, and as I said, he always took it into the FBO with him. I offered to lock it in the airplane once, but he insisted on having it with him.”

“How did he pay for his fuel?”

“Always in cash. I noticed that, because it’s very unusual where a fill-up is fifteen hundred, two thousand dollars. Most people have dedicated fuel cards to get the best prices.”

“As I do,” Stone said. “I’ve never once paid for fuel in cash. Have you ever seen any other client do that?”

“Nope, not once.”

“So we know that he’s in several businesses and that he prefers landing at small-town airports, rather than large ones, where there might be a police presence, and he pays his personal expenses with cash.”

“He paid me in cash. Kevin, too.”

“It does sound like drugs,” Stone said. “He has someone else deliver, he gets paid in cash. He’s probably in some legitimate businesses, so that he can account for the sources of his income. I’ll bet the IRS would like to know more about him.”

“Are you going to turn him in to the IRS?”

“I don’t have enough on him to do that, but if I can get more, then you should turn him in.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’d get whistle-blower money — I think ten percent, maybe more, of what they recover from him. That could be useful in establishing your business.”

“That’s a thought,” she said, “but not unless you’re sure about what he’s doing.”

“Maybe I’ll do some looking into Mr. Reeves,” Stone said.