“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.