“Dad,” Peter said gravely, “I want you to know that it’s all right for you to have sleepovers when I’m here.”
Stone didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Thank you, Peter, that’s very kind of you.” And he meant it.
30
Stone hired a driver and picked up Felicity Devonshire at the ambassador’s residence. “You look radiant, as always,” he said, holding both her hands and looking her up and down.
“And you are a great flatterer, as always,” she replied. “Where are we having dinner?”
“At a place that’s new to me, called Patroon. It’s not all that far away.”
“Then why did you bring your car?”
“I would be nervous taking you out on the street, since the last time you were here someone was gunning for you. The car is armored, so you will be protected.” He led her out and down the stairs.
“Oh, you have a new car, a Bentley?”
“Yes,” Stone said. “My Mercedes came to a bad end last year. Mike Freeman at Strategic Services had this in his fleet and sold it to me. Their armoring division had done a lot of work on it.”
“Why do you have armored cars?” Felicity asked, getting into the rear seat.
Stone got in beside her. “Accidental in both cases. I went into the Mercedes showroom to buy the first one, and they had it on the floor. It had been ordered by someone of shady reputation, and it arrived one day late. Somebody got to him, so I bought it from the widow. When I smashed it up, Mike was there to help.”
“You are the most fortunate man,” she said.
“If I were more fortunate I wouldn’t have totaled the Mercedes. By the way, thank you for your kind note after Arrington’s death.”
“It was the least I could do,” she said.
They arrived at the restaurant and were seated.
“This is very nice,” she said, looking around.
Stone ordered them drinks, and they were visited by the owner, Ken Aretsky. They chatted briefly, then the drinks arrived and he moved on to another table.
“Is this your new Elaine’s?” she asked.
“It’s one of them. Dino and I have learned that Elaine’s cannot be replaced-there is just no other place like it.”
“To a better future,” Felicity said, raising her glass.
“I’ll drink to that.”
“So you have a son now?”
“You’re keeping up, aren’t you?”
“What is the point of being in the intelligence game if you can’t spy on your friends?”
Stone laughed. “You’ll meet Peter and his girlfriend, Hattie, as well as Dino’s son, Ben, and Dino’s new girlfriend, Viv. They’ll all be on the airplane.”
“Why are you going out there in advance of the actual opening?” she asked.
“Well, I’m an investor and on the board, as is Mike Freeman. We both want to have an opportunity to look the place over before the guests swarm in.”
“What with having two presidents in residence, you and Mike must have some security concerns.” She didn’t look directly at him when she said this.
Stone caught something in her statement; he wasn’t sure what. “Yes, the Secret Service will be there in strength, and so will the Strategic Services people.”
“Good,” she said.
“Felicity, is there something you want to tell me?”
“Want to but can’t,” she replied, looking into her martini.
“Suppose something terrible happens, and you didn’t warn me?”
“Then I would feel very guilty,” she replied.
“Come on, unburden yourself.” But the menus arrived, and they took time to study them. “I’m not letting you off the hook,” he said when the waiter had taken their orders and gone.
“Something did come across my desk,” she said, “but I don’t want to raise the alarm over what might be nothing.”
“Do you recall that a couple of years ago you forced me to sign your Official Secrets Act?”
She brightened. “That’s right, I did, didn’t I? Prescient of me.”
“Yes, it was. Now give, please.”
“Oh, all right.” She looked around to be sure no one was within earshot. “Our signals people have picked up a series of oddly signed messages,” she said.
“Would the signatures be from a nursery rhyme?”
Felicity’s jaw dropped. “Now you must tell me how you know that.”
“No, I mustn’t.”
“I have to know if there was a leak on my end.”
“There was no leak. Those messages were picked up by the NSA.”
Her eyes widened. “And they circulated that information to you, a private citizen?”
“Actually, they probably don’t know that I was in the loop. Let’s just say they circulated it to someone I know.”
“Someone at the CIA?”
“No.”
“Well, if I were in charge around here, I’d have this person you know taken out and shot!”
“You may recall that I am still under contract to the Agency as a consultant,” Stone said, “and I have the appropriate security clearance-in spite of my friendship with you.”
“But do you have a need to know? I believe that’s the phraseology they use.”
“I have a very definite need to know,” Stone said, “since a substantial chunk of my inheritance from my late wife and of my son’s trust fund are invested in the hotel mentioned in the signals you referred to.”
“Oh, all right, I suppose you’re not a security risk.”
Their dinner arrived, and the subject changed.
“How are you… coping since becoming a widower?” she asked.
“You needn’t be so delicate,” Stone replied. “I plan to take you home and ravish you as soon as you’ve finished your Dover sole.”
She giggled. “Oh, good. But where is your son?”
“He occupies his own flat on the top floor of the house,” Stone said, “and he’s probably there, in the sack with his girlfriend, as we speak.”
“Goodness, his generation starts young, don’t they?”
“How old were you on the occasion of your first time?” Stone asked.
Felicity blushed deeply.
“Oh, come on, you can tell me. Official Secrets Act, remember?”
“Sixteen,” she said. “With a young gamekeeper on my father’s estate.”
“Shades of Lady Chatterley!”
“It was only afterward that I read the novel,” she said. “But he was very sweet. He was twenty-two, and he seemed like much the older man. What about you? When was your first time?”
Stone laughed. “I was sixteen, too, and she was nineteen. Much the older woman, and I was grateful to her for her experience.”
“So we were both precocious.”
“And will be again,” Stone said. He waved at a waiter. “Check, please!”
