Naked Greed

21

Dino called the following morning to thank Stone for dinner. “The port was fantastic.”

“Way too good for you,” Stone replied.

“I hesitate to bring this up,” Dino said, “but I believe Caroline and the Brit were hatching something.”

“They were indeed,” Stone said. “I heard her slip out at six AM.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I discovered I’m not very good at sprinting over distance, and Caroline is indefatigable.”

“So you planned that?”

“Let’s just say I thought seating them together was a good idea. And speaking of ideas, I’ve had a thought about resolving the Gino Parisi thing.”

“You’re going to kill him?”

“Certainly not. Tell me this: Does your department have somebody undercover who might deliver a little message to Frank and Charlie?”

“Maybe. What kind of message?”

“I’d like for them to hear that Gino wants to get rid of them.”

“You want them to hear that Gino is firing them?”

“No, I want them to hear that Gino thinks they’re too expensive, that it’s cheaper for him to hire someone else to, ah, fire them.”

“That’s a dirty, rotten thing to do to anybody,” Dino said. “I love it.”

“I thought you might.”

“Let me see what I can do. This would have to happen very subtly.”

“I thought your fine Italian hand could manage that.”

“I’ll get back to you.” Dino hung up.

Joan came into the office. “The two goons are back — the real goons, not the ersatz ones.”

“Tell you what,” Stone said, “ask Fred to take them some coffee and Danish. Maybe they haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“Now, why would you want to do that?”

“I want them to think well of me.”

She looked at him narrowly. “Why?”

“Because if they think well of me they might be a little less interested in causing me harm.”

“You think you can buy off a pair of pro goons with coffee and Danish?”

“It can’t hurt to try. And do it every morning. I want them to get used to it.”

There was a rap on the back door to Stone’s office.

“Come in!”

Ian Rattle let himself in from the kitchen. “Good morning.”

“Come in and have a seat, Ian. This is my secretary, Joan Robertson. Joan, our houseguest, Major Ian Rattle.”

Joan shook his hand.

“I think you have a delivery to arrange,” Stone said to her.

Joan left, shaking her head.

“I wanted to thank you again for last evening,” Ian said.

“Did you enjoy your second dessert?”

Ian seemed surprised. “Did you arrange that?”

“No, Caroline arranged it. All I did was give her the opportunity.”

“The generosity of Americans never ceases to amaze me!”

“Really, it was less an act of generosity than self-preservation. Are you comfortable in your suite?”

“It’s bloody marvelous,” Ian replied. “Better than my London flat.”

“Peter did a nice job on it, I thought. He’s left a DVD collection of old films. You’re welcome to sample them.”

“I love good movies. He’s a film buff, is he?”

“He’s a film director, and a very good one. My library is available, too, if you want to read. I don’t want you to start getting cabin fever.”

“Frankly, I could use the rest, if I can have an occasional visit from Caroline.”

“If that’s what you think of as rest, go right ahead. Does she understand that you’re not really here?”

“We discussed that.”

“Invite anyone you like, as long as you trust them.”

“My orders are to have no one in, unless they’ve been approved by my service.”

“I see. We can call Caroline my guest, then.”

“Thank you. Holly said that the Agency had taken special security precautions here. What sort of precautions?”

“They removed the brick veneer from the front and rear of the house, put up half-inch steel plating, then replaced the brick. They also replaced all the windows in the house with armored glass in steel frames. You won’t have that problem with the windowpanes that you did in your so-called safe house.”

“That’s a relief. I’ve been instinctively staying away from windows ever since.”

“I’ll see you at lunchtime in the kitchen,” Stone said, and Ian went upstairs.