Dishonorable Intentions (8 page)

S
tone was settling into the study to get some work done when Gala came in. “Would you mind terribly if I missed lunch with you today? I'd like to run up to London and get some shopping done.”

“Of course, go right ahead. I'll give you a car.”

“I'd rather take the train, if someone will give me a lift to Southampton station.”

Stone lifted a phone and spoke to Geoffrey, then hung up. “The car will be out front in five minutes. Get Geoffrey's number and let him know on what train you're returning, and he'll meet you at the station.”

She kissed him and departed.

Stone worked until early afternoon, having a sandwich in the library for lunch, then, as New York began its day, began receiving calls. Joan was first.

“We're still alive and well here,” she said.

“Good. I think you can dismiss Mike's men. I have reason to believe that Tirov has left the city.”

“Will do.”

Bob Cantor called next. “I've made some refinements to my tracking software,” he said. He gave Stone instructions on reloading the software. “There,” he said. “Would you like to add any other numbers to be tracked?”

Stone thought about it, then gave Bob Gala's new number.

“Great, you're all set. I've assigned the color yellow to her phone, to make it easier to distinguish it. If you want to add any other phones, you'll be given a choice of colors.”

“Thanks, Bob.” He hung up, then switched on the phone and checked for Gala. He picked up a yellow dot in the Savile Row area of London, and by zooming in, he was able to identify the location of Cecconi's, a restaurant. Then, to his surprise, a green dot appeared on the screen at the same location, but slightly apart from the yellow. He called Gala's number.

“Hello?”

“Hi, where are you?”

“I'm at Cecconi's, having a bite at the bar,” she said.

“Then you should know that Tirov appears to be in the same restaurant.”

“Oh, my God! How did you know?”

“I neglected to tell you that Bob Cantor's app had tracked him to London. My advice is just to pay your check and sneak out, so as to avoid a confrontation.”

“I certainly will. Goodbye.”

Stone watched as the yellow dot left the location and moved down to Burlington Arcade, while the green dot remained. Relieved, he closed his phone.

Geoffrey came into the room. “Dame Felicity is on the phone for you, Mr. Barrington. Line one.”

“Thank you, Geoffrey. Any trouble getting her boat started this morning?”

“None whatever, sir. I think it must have been flooded.”

Stone picked up the phone. “Good morning again.”

“And good morning to you.”

“No trouble getting your boat started this morning?”

“None. I expect the engine was flooded. Did we surprise you last night?”

“Yes, but very pleasantly. I can't think when I've enjoyed being surprised so much.”

“You certainly rose to the occasion, and you acquitted yourself very nicely.”

“I had a lot of inspiration.”

“Perhaps we'll do it again sometime.”

“I wouldn't be surprised.”

“She's a lovely girl. I can see why you're so attracted to her.”

“She said much the same about you.”

“I'm so glad. Oh, has your post arrived yet?”

“Not yet.”

“When it does, you may expect to receive some interesting news.”

“Is that meant to be a surprise, too?”

“It is.”

At that moment, Geoffrey entered with some letters on a silver tray.

“Ah, here's the post now. Which one is the surprise?”

“The one posted from the Isle of Wight.”

Stone found the postmark and opened the letter. It was from the secretary of the famous old yacht club across the Solent, informing him that he had been elected to membership. “Good God!” he said. “How did this happen?”

“Secretly,” she said. “You made a very good impression at the club, and if you'll remember, you had several flag officers as guests at your dinner party last year.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“It was not difficult to gather the requisite number of proposers for your application, all of them prominent in the club. Those things can't be rushed, but nearly a year has passed, and the wheels ground steadily in your absence.”

“I can't thank you enough, Felicity,” he said earnestly. “It's a wonderful club, and I shall enjoy using it.”

“Let me give you a phone number,” she said.

He wrote it down.

“That's the club tailor, in Southampton. Ring him and he'll come over and measure you for a reefer suit and a mess kit, and he'll sell you a cap, as well. You'll need both.”

“I shall certainly do so.”

“You'll also need a stickpin for your necktie. That's part of the regalia. Benzie's, the jewelry store on the Parade in Cowes, will provide that.”

“I'll stop in on my next trip over.”

“I can't wait to see your new boat.”

“I'll ring you as soon as I get my hands on it.”

“Goodbye then, and congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“And
au revoir
.”

“Indeed.” He hung up, called the tailor to make an appointment.

“You're at Windward Hall, on the Beaulieu, is that right, Mr. Barrington?”

“That's correct.”

“I have another call to make near you today. I could visit you at, say, four?”

“Perfect.”

“And may I ask, sir, what size hat do you wear?”

“Seven and a half.”

“I'll bring a couple.”

“Good. See you then.” He hung up.

He had been working for an hour when a call came in on his cell phone. “Hello?”

“Stone, it's Phil Bennett, at Hinckley.” Bennett was the sales director.

“How are you, Phil?”

“Very well, thanks. I have good news. Your boat arrived at
Southampton the day before yesterday and cleared customs yesterday. Our team is working on unpacking and cleaning it now, and they tell me they can deliver her to your dock tomorrow around noon.”

“Excellent news!”

“Their names are Chris and Dustin. I'll give you their cell numbers.”

Stone wrote them down.

“They've arranged lodging at an inn near your house, so your training can begin tomorrow, if that's all right.”

Three days of training were included in the price. “It could not be more perfect.”

“Is your dock well marked?”

“There's a sign saying ‘Windward Hall.'”

“They'll call when they're a few minutes out.”

“I'll look forward to seeing them.” He hung up and Geoffrey reappeared.

“Ms. Wilde has rung from London. She'll be on the five-ten from Waterloo Station. Shall I meet her, sir?”

“No, just bring the Porsche around, and I'll meet her myself.”

“You know the route to the station, sir?”

“I do.”

Geoffrey handed him the keys to the Porsche. “The car is already out front, sir. I'd allow twenty minutes to drive to the station.”

“That's good. I'm expecting a tailor at four o'clock. You may show him in here when he arrives.”

“Very good, sir.” And Geoffrey left him to his work.

The tailor arrived on time, and Stone selected fabric for the two suits, then tried on a hat. He had never worn a club yachting cap, and, in the mirror, he thought he looked ridiculous. Nevertheless, he bought two.

S
tone met Gala and several shopping bags at Southampton station and drove her back to the house. “How did your day go?”

“Just fine. I enjoyed myself.”

“Did you encounter Boris at Cecconi?”

“I was sitting on the back side of the bar, and I saw him come in and take a table on the other side of the room. I got out without being seen, I think.”

“That's a relief. What do you suppose he's doing in London?”

“Business, I expect. He often shoots at Pinewood Studios.”

“So, he's not stalking you in England?”

“I don't think so.”

“Good. Oh, more good news—my new boat is being delivered to the dock at around noon tomorrow. Part of my deal
with Hinckley is that I get three days' training. Would you enjoy that?”

“I would. Will it be hard, do you think?”

“Hinckleys are very easy to handle. Do you mind if I ask Felicity to join us?”

“Not at all.”

“She called this morning. She got me elected to the yacht club at Cowes while I was away.”

“Congratulations.”

“I'll take you to dinner there. You'll enjoy it.”

They arrived back at Windward Hall, and Gala went to put away her things and take a nap. Stone called Felicity, told her about the boat, and arranged to pick her up at her dock.

“I'll need to leave for London around five,” she said. “Early meeting Monday morning.”

“We'll have you back by then.”

—

T
he following day, they took a box of sandwiches down to the dock, just in time to see the new boat coming up the river. She pulled alongside, and Stone and Gala took her lines.

Half an hour later, they had been through the drill of checking fluids, locating the major systems. They picked up Felicity, and she and Gala were introduced to the JetStick, which controlled the boat.

“All Hinckley motorboats have jet drives,” Chris told her.
“There's no propeller and no rudder. The JetStick controls a computer that controls both jet drives and a bow thruster, so if you want to go ahead, you push the stick forward. If you want to go aft, you push it backward, and if you want to go sideways, you push it sideways, which is very handy for docking.”

They both tried docking the boat and found it easy.

“And you can spin the boat on her own axis, by twisting the JetStick.” Chris demonstrated.

They took the boat down the river and Chris demonstrated the electric anchoring process, then they had lunch.

At five, they returned Felicity to her dock, then practiced more docking at Windward. Then Stone had the two Hinckley men driven to their inn, and arranged a pickup time for the following day.

“I think one more day of training will do it for me,” Stone said. “It's similar enough to my old Hinckley Picnic Boat.”

“Good, then we'll have a day or two to see some of England,” Chris said.

Stone and Gala returned to Windward Hall for dinner.

They were having drinks in the library when Geoffrey entered the room. “There's a call for Ms. Wilde,” he said.

“That's odd,” Gala said. “Who's calling?”

“He wouldn't say, but the gentleman did have a foreign accent.”

Stone and Gala exchanged a glance. “Geoffrey, tell the gentleman that there is no Ms. Wilde here, nor will there be, and ask him not to phone again.”

Geoffrey left to deliver the message. “Thank you, Stone. I can't imagine how he got this number.”

“The house is listed in the phone book. What I can't imagine is how he learned where I live.”

“Boris has been known to employ private detectives to get information on the people he does business with. It would not shock me to learn that he uses them in London, as well.”

Geoffrey returned to refresh their drinks.

“How did the gentleman take it, Geoffrey?” Stone asked.

“Poorly, sir. I had finally to hang up on him.”

“If he calls back, just tell him to go away.”

“With pleasure, sir. Dinner will be served in about twenty minutes.”

“If Boris persists, I'm going to have to find a way to deal with him,” Stone said.

“I hope it doesn't come to that.”

“He seems to be pathological about you.”

“I don't think that's too strong a term, but I don't think you can have him committed.”

“And it would be a lot of trouble to kill him. Still . . .”

Gala laughed. “Don't be tempted.”

“I'll try to restrain myself.”

Stone's cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“Mr. Barrington?”

“Yes?”

“This is Jefferson Bramble. I'm the delivery pilot for your airplane.”

“Where are you?”

“I've made landfall, and I'm about an hour out of your airfield.”

“Fly the published approach into my strip, and I'll have customs meet you, and someone to drive you wherever you need to go.”

“Just to the nearest railroad station. I'll get a train to London. I have a hotel reservation there.”

“Thank you, Jefferson.” They hung up as Geoffrey entered with dinner.

“Geoffrey, my airplane is landing in an hour. Will you phone the customs people and inform them, then have the pilot driven to the station after he's cleared with the local officials?”

“Certainly, sir. Customs are getting accustomed to visiting your airfield.”

“Good.” They sat down to dinner.

—

A
n hour later, as they were on coffee, the door to the library opened, and Dino walked in.

“Good evening,” he said.

“Good God! You didn't tell me you were coming.”

“I hitched a ride on your airplane—Joan arranged it for me. I'll fly down to Rome with you for the opening of the Arrington.”

“Sit down and have some dinner.” Geoffrey was ready for him.

“You must be tired,” Stone said.

“Well, it wasn't the same as traveling on a G650.” He sat down, and Stone poured him a glass of wine. When he was finished, Geoffrey took him upstairs and got him quartered.

Stone and Gala soon followed.