“Don’t bother; I’ll take a cab,” Stone replied. He thanked Hackett, hung up and reported the conversation to Felicity.
“All right,” she said. “If you think it’s safe, we’ll go. I’ll pack and send someone over for the computer.”
AN HOUR LATER Stone walked into his house. Everything seemed perfectly normal, and Joan was in her office. Felicity had taken another cab to her office.
“Did you have a nice vacation?” she asked.
“I suppose so,” Stone replied.
“Herbie came by again to thank you.”
“Don’t let him know I’m home, please. I don’t want to be thanked again.”
“Will you be home for a while now?”
“I believe so; it seems Dolce has left the country.” He told her about his conversation with Hackett.
“I don’t buy it,” Joan replied, “and I’m not letting down my guard.” She took the.45 from her drawer and placed it on her desk. The phone rang, and she picked it up. “It’s Felicity,” she said to Stone.
Stone went into his office and picked up the phone. “Well, hello, there. Long time no speak.”
“I’ve just had a call from London,” Felicity said. “My document-recovery people at Camberly have found James Hackett’s service record.”
“You mean he has two service records?”
“Since no soldier does, I very much doubt it.”
“What does it contain?”
“A solid mass of sodden pages, now one.”
“So it can’t be read?”
“No, it cannot, but there’s something else.”
“What’s that?”
“The photograph attached to the dossier is just barely legible, and it is not the one of the young James Hackett on the dossier he furnished.”
“So Hackett is Whitestone?”
“We don’t know that.”
“You’re confusing me.”
“That’s not surprising, since I am confused myself,” Felicity admitted.
“Do you want me to confront Hackett with this information?” Stone asked.
“I don’t know yet,” she replied. “I’ve got to think about that. I’ll be working late tonight on this, so don’t count on me for dinner. If I finish in time, I’ll drop by Elaine’s.”
“Okay, see you there,” Stone said. He hung up and tried to sort through everything he knew about Hackett, tried to make sense of it.
It didn’t work.
45
Stone joined Dino at Elaine’s.
“What’s the matter?” Dino asked, sipping his Scotch.
“Why do you think something’s the matter?” Stone asked.
“It’s obvious,” Dino said. “You think I can’t read you by now?”
Stone told him about the latest development in the Hackett/ Whitestone saga.
“Now I know why you look the way you do,” Dino said. “I’m baffled, too.”
“So are Felicity and her people,” Stone replied. He looked up to see Herbie Fisher walk into the restaurant with a young woman, very pretty, very nicely dressed.
“You see what I see?” Stone asked.
“I do,” Dino replied. “I guess the tradition in the Fisher family is abbreviated mourning.”
“I guess,” Stone agreed.
Herbie stopped by their table. “Hey, Stone. Hey, Dino. I’d like you to meet Stephanie Gunn, with two n’s. Stephanie, this is Stone Barrington and Dino Bacchetti.”
“How do you do, Stephanie,” Stone said.
“I’m very well, thank you. And you?”
“Very well. So is he.” He nodded toward Dino.
“Can’t he speak for himself?” she asked.
“I’m very well, thank you,” Dino said.
“See?” Stone said. “Fully functioning person.”
“I’m relieved to hear it,” Stephanie said. “I believe I’ve heard Herbert mention your name, but not Mr. Bacchetti’s.”
“Dino is hardly ever mentioned by people who know him,” Stone said.
Stephanie laughed.
“Well,” Herbie said, “if you’ll excuse us.” He led the girl toward their waiting table.
“What’s wrong with this picture?” Stone asked.
“Well, both Herbie and his girlfriend sounded uncharacteristically normal,” Dino replied.
“That’s it: I’m unaccustomed to that. Maybe Herbie has entered another lucid interval. If so, that’s twice it’s happened.”
“That’s a record for Herbie,” Dino said. “Do you suppose that having his girlfriend jump off his penthouse terrace to her death has somehow matured him?”
“There were signs of maturation before,” Stone replied. “Like when he asked Sheila to sign a prenup.”
“I agree, that’s unusually sensible of him,” Dino said. “Have you talked with Bob Cantor about this?”
“No, Herbie’s uncle Bob wouldn’t believe me if I told him.”
They ordered dinner and were halfway through when Felicity showed up, sat down and ordered a single-malt Scotch on the rocks.
“No Rob Roy?” Dino asked.
“Not tonight,” she replied, taking a swig of the pungent liquid. “I need to go directly to the source, without the sugar and fruit.”
“I know the feeling,” Dino said.
“You look perplexed,” Stone said.
“I think that sums up my mood very nicely,” Felicity replied, “at least, until I finish this drink and start another one.”
“What is driving you to drink?” Stone asked.
“I’ve been back and forth with my documents people for the past four hours. They’ve found the photograph of Hackett that was on the file I sent them but not on his own folder; it was affixed to the dossier of one Timothy Timmons, another soldier in the regiment.”
“That’s a familiar name,” Stone said.
“Oh? How?”
“Hackett told me that he had a friend called Tim Timmons, who left the regiment before he did and went to work for a security company. He later persuaded Hackett to leave and join him there. Eventually they both left and formed their own company. Timmons was later killed in some sort of bomb blast, and Hackett got his share of their company.”
“That’s very interesting,” Felicity said, “since it’s all we’re going to learn about Mr. Timmons.”
“Why is that?”
“His dossier was in the same state as Hackett’s: sodden. Only the photograph survived.” She emptied the glass of Scotch and signaled a waiter for another. “I’m increasingly baffled by all this.”
“Let me suggest the simplest explanation,” Stone said.
“Please do.”
