Dishonorable Intentions (17 page)

L
ance's entourage was small: just two white SUVs. He dismounted from the front passenger seat, walked around the car and climbed the front steps, where Stone stood, waiting to meet him.

Stone offered his hand. “Welcome, Lance.”

“Thank you, Stone,” Lance replied, looking around at the house and the view. “You always have such good taste.”

“Thank you. May I offer your people some lunch?” But the cars were already making a U-turn.

“Thank you, Stone, but they saw a nearby pub on our way here that they liked the look of.”

“Come in.”

“May I have a tour?” Lance asked.

“Of course.” Stone started with the ground-floor offices, then they took the lift upstairs and saw some bedrooms, including the master suite, then they walked down to the main floor and
saw the drawing room and the two dining rooms, large and small, before repairing to the library. Lance, who usually did not reveal much, seemed dazzled, especially by Gala. “I know your work on film,” he said, “and I look forward to seeing much more of it.”

“I'll do my best to keep you busy,” Gala replied.

“It's not too early for a drink,” Stone said.

“Have you a good single malt?”

Stone opened the liquor cabinet to display nearly a dozen.

“I'll try the Talisker,” Lance said. “With a tiny bit of ice.” He accepted the drink and the offer of a chair opposite the sofa, where Gala sat. He took a sip of the whiskey. “Ah, good! The Scots know their business, don't they?”

“They do,” Stone agreed.

“How many houses have you these days, Stone? I lose count.”

“Only five,” Stone replied. “I sold Connecticut to Bill Eggers.”

“This one was done by Susan Blackburn, from the look of it.”

“It was. Susan had nearly finished a complete renovation for the previous owner when I bought the place.”

“And why would the previous owner want to sell?”

“He was dying, and I think he wanted to leave his heirs cash instead of property.”

“You're in business with Susan, aren't you?”

“No, my colleagues at Woodman & Weld helped her put together a business plan for expansion and found her some property and the money to buy it. The rest she has done herself.”

“And done very well,” Lance said.

“Do you have an interest in Susan's business, Lance?”

“Only in passing. I have a London property that I've owned for many years. It's rented at the moment, to a fellow from the embassy, but he's retiring, and I'm thinking of occupying it myself.”

“Thinking of retiring yourself, are you?”

“Not a bit of it. But I seem to be spending more time in London these days—it's so close to everything in Europe. It would be nice to have something more than a hotel suite to work from.”

“Would you like an introduction to Susan Blackburn?”

“Thank you, I met with her yesterday afternoon. We took a stroll through the house, and she made some notes. Your name came up.”

“Not in vain, I hope.”

“Certainly not! She's obviously very fond of you.”

“I gave her another commission. She did the country house Arrington, next door.”

“That was my other stop on the way here—very impressive. I understand you have a neighbor of my acquaintance, as well.”

“Felicity? Yes, she's just across the river. It was she who brought this place to my attention and insisted I buy it.”

“Ah, yes, I'm sure Felicity can be a helpful neighbor to have. In fact, I hear she's been helpful to you very recently.”

“I expect you hear all sorts of things, Lance.”

“What an astute observation!” Lance replied, laughing. “The latest thing I've heard is that Viktor Petrov is taking an interest
in the American film business, and that you had something to do with that.”

“The only people I know in the film business, apart from Gala, are in Hollywood, and I am not acquainted with Mr. Petrov.”

“Well, I did not mean that you had a direct connection, but apparently you somehow spurred a Mr. Tirov to renew a connection with his old friend Viktor.”

“Well, I may have helped make it necessary for Tirov to make that move. I was quite surprised by his dexterity, really.”

“I can believe that! Just when you thought you had Tirov made permanently unwelcome in our country, bang! He plays the Petrov ace! An unfortunate twist in what I thought was a rather well-executed plot.”

“Ah, well.”

“Still, it's an ill wind that doesn't blow
somebody
some good, isn't it?”

“And who might that be?”

“I understand that the mere announcement that Petrov will attend the film's premiere tonight has caused a rush in advance ticket sales.”

“Really?”

“I'm told the film may be grossing north of thirty million dollars in Russia, perhaps a great deal more.”

“Well, I'm as happy for them as one can be who has no relationship with that studio.”

“That's right, it's Centurion on whose board you serve, is it not?”

“You know very well it is, Lance.”

“And, in an unusual arrangement, Centurion is co-financing the film with Stalwart Studios.”

“I'm afraid I missed my first board meeting at Centurion because of a monumental traffic jam on I-405, so I was not aware of that arrangement.”

“Ah, yes, that was the board meeting that nixed the production deal with Boris Tirov, wasn't it?”

“It was, and I regret missing it, because I would have liked to cast my vote against it. Still, Tirov
believes
I killed his deal, so I have all the fun of being his enemy while not having earned his enmity.”

“On that count, at least,” Lance said.

At that moment, Geoffrey called them to lunch, and Stone had to wait until halfway through the fish course before he could return to the subject of Tirov. “You were saying, Lance, that there are other reasons why Tirov should hate me?”

“Was I?” Lance munched on his turbot for a moment. “Oh, yes, well, there is the imbroglio with Tirov's near deportation, isn't there?”

“Tirov connects me with that?”

“It appears that his connections on the Russian side are nearly as good as your connections on our side. He certainly believes, rightly or wrongly, that you personally instigated that very embarrassing episode.”

“Rightly,” Stone said. “And I'm sorry it didn't work as planned.”

Lance turned to Gala. “Ms. Wilde, given your personal experience of your former spouse, what effect would you think this knowledge would have upon Mr. Tirov's view of our mutual friend Stone?”

“I should think,” Gala said, “that if he was annoyed before, he is
livid
now.”

“How very well put!” Lance put down his fork, took a large sip of his Bâtard-Montrachet, dabbed his lips with his napkin, and consulted his watch. “And now, Stone, having persuaded Ms. Wilde to deliver the bad news I had found so distasteful, I'm afraid I must hie myself back to a meeting at the embassy this afternoon. I hope you will forgive me for rushing away.” He drew an envelope from his pocket. “Have you a pen?”

Stone offered him one.

“Having seen the new Arrington and your house, I am ready to sign the contract with Ms. Blackburn to design my property.” He signed the document with a flourish, sealed it in the envelope, and handed it to Stone. “Would you be kind enough to send this out with your post?”

“Of course,” Stone said, accepting the envelope.

Lance stood, kissed Gala's hand, shook Stone's, and made his way to the front door, where his entourage awaited.

Stone and Gala waved him off.

S
tone walked Gala down to her office, next to his own.

“What was that business with Lance all about?” she asked.

“At least two things,” Stone said. “He wanted to see some of Susan Blackburn's work, though he could have seen plenty of it in London, and he wanted to let me know that his spying is just as good as Felicity's, maybe better.”

“How better?”

“The tap that Felicity has on Petrov's office and/or phone lines may actually be the CIA's, and she may be borrowing from it.”

“Or the other way around.”

“Yes, but Lance has made it possible for us to believe one or the other, instead of just the one. I guess that's good for his ego.”

“You understand these things so much better than I.”

“Not necessarily, I just know the two spies very well. I'm guessing, really.”

“Your guesses are intriguing,” she said. “You should have been a screenwriter.” She logged onto a website. “Let's see how La Dumont's film is doing. Aha, Lance's information is good, but not good enough. The film is projected to do thirty-five million in Russia, and get this—Nathalie has two gross points! Lucky girl!”

“So she had business motives, as well as carnal ones, to spend a few days with Viktor Petrov.”

“Her instincts are good all round.”

“Did you and Ms. Dumont ever partake of each other?”

“Stone! One threesome, and you think I'm anybody's?”

Stone laughed.

“Actually, she did make a pass at me, once. We were sunbathing in the nude on the deck at her Malibu house. I dozed off, and she gave me a big kiss in an intimate place. I woke up, startled, not sure if I was dreaming, and she apologized profusely. If she had been a little more subtle, I might have been receptive—after all, she's very beautiful, especially when naked. She did find a way to say that it was a standing offer.”

“The mind boggles!” He excused himself and went to his own office to check his e-mail.

—

S
tone reflected that there had been another reason for Lance's visit, but he hadn't wanted to mention it to Gala: Lance had thought it important to warn him that Boris Tirov remained a
threat, probably more of a threat than before. Certainly, if the Russian had any inkling that Stone was behind the attempt to deport him, he would be, as Gala had put it,
livid.

He called Mike Freeman at Strategic Services in New York. His secretary told Stone that Mike was traveling, but that she could connect him. There was a click.

“Michael Freeman.”

“Mike, it's Stone.”

“How are you?”

“Very well. Where are you?”

“On the Gulfstream, en route to Paris. What's up?”

“I think I may need a bit of security at Windward Hall.”

“Gala's ex?”

“Exactly. Lance Cabot was here for lunch, and he went out of his way to tell me I should be worried. I was involved in a little chicanery, designed to get him deported from the U.S.A.”

“Ah, yes, I read about that. Didn't work, did it?”

“No, he got Viktor Petrov to intervene on his behalf. The warrant vanished.”

“And Tirov found out you were involved?”

“Lance seemed to think so.”

“I should think that when Lance seems to think something, it might be time to be worried. How much coverage do you want?”

“A man on my dock and two at the house.”

“Around the clock?”

“At least at first.”

“Let's see, it's three o'clock U.K. time. I can have them there by, say, seven
PM
. We're talking a crew of nine.”

“That's fine. I'd like them to be unobtrusive—Gala shouldn't know.”

“Being guarded wouldn't make her feel better?”

“Maybe, but it might make her feel threatened.”

“I see your point. I won't have them check in with you, then, they'll just materialize. I'll have them housed in the village, not on the estate.”

“That might be better.”

“Armed?”

“I don't want to cause you legal difficulties.”

“We're licensed for that sort of thing.”

“As you think best, then.”

“Stone, did Dino tell you I've made him an offer to join us?”

“He did. Have you heard back from him?”

“We've had a couple of conversations. There are some political considerations, since the mayor is going to run for reelection, but I think his main concern is that he and Viv might get their wires crossed at work. I've told him that we'll call him a consultant, and he'll report directly to me. That seemed to satisfy him, so we'll see how the mayor reacts to news of his early departure. I take it this arose because of a conversation with you.”

“I guess it did, at that.”

“Then, if he joins us, I'll have you to thank.”

“You can buy me a drink.”

“Okay. I'd better make some calls and get your security set
up. You won't notice them when they arrive, but I'll give you a number to call, if you want to speak to the team leader.”

“Ready to copy.”

“His name is Rob Poulter—ex–Special Air Service and MI5.” He dictated the number.

“Got it. You can give him my cell number.”

Stone looked up to find Gala standing in his doorway.

“I guess Lance had another motive for stopping by,” she said.

“Yes, he did, and I thought it a good idea to have some eyes on the estate for a while.”

“I think so, too.”

Stone thanked Mike and hung up. “I'm glad you're okay with it. They will be unobtrusive, won't be in the house unless we require it.”

“I'm glad they won't be in the bedroom,” she said.

—

T
hey had dinner and were getting undressed when Stone's cell phone rang. “Yes?”

“This is Rob Poulter. Is this Mr. Barrington?”

“It is.”

“I just wanted you to know that we're on station.”

“I asked the kitchen to leave a pot of coffee on and some sandwiches in the fridge. The back door will be unlocked.”

“Thank you, that's very kind, but we have some packed
food. The hot coffee will be good, though. If we have an alert, I'll ring your number once, then hang up.”

“All right.”

“And I'll do the same as an all-clear.”

“Got it. I'm glad you're here, Rob.”

“Good night, Mr. Barrington.”

“Good night, Rob.”