“They were the last two people to arrive for the dinner party, and the nephew had access to the building through his aunt and could have entered the back hall from inside the building, taped the door latch, and later let himself in to perform the killing, then out again.”
“That’s a reasonable conjecture,” Stone said, “but I take it you have no hard evidence.”
“You could put it that way,” Dino said.
Stone turned to Eggers. “How is it you are having ex parte communications with Lance Cabot?”
Eggers allowed himself to look uncomfortable for a tiny moment. “He called me; I didn’t call him.”
“He called you for the sole purpose of spreading rumors about my personal conduct?”
“That may not have been the only reason,” Eggers said. “I can’t say any more.”
“On what grounds? National security? Attorney-client confidentiality? As I recall, Lance is my sometime client, not yours or the firm’s.”
“Look,” Eggers said, “when a high official of the intelligence community calls and asks for some informal advice, I consider it my duty to my country to help if I can. Isn’t that why you and Dino are under contract to Lance?”
“It is, or was,” Stone said. “Not speaking for Dino, I find that Lance calls on me when he wants to make my life miserable or, at least, worse, and I’m getting tired of it. I’ve tried to resign my consultancy, but he says I can’t.”
“He seems to make my life more interesting when he calls,” Dino said. “I like that spook stuff.”
“You stay out of this,” Stone said petulantly.
“Were you on that airplane that the Mercedes departed from?” Eggers asked.
“Yes, I was, and at the invitation of the firm’s client, Mike Freeman, of Strategic Services, who was in the employ of Lance at the time. That doesn’t mean that I caused or failed to prevent the car from taking flight. And I would suggest to you that if our work for Strategic Services somehow infringes on the gardening rights of Dr. Holland, then the good doctor should be told to take a hike, since Mike Freeman is demonstrably the more important client.”
“I don’t question that,” Eggers said.
“Then deal with Dr. Holland however you like, and leave me out of it, okay?”
“Okay,” Eggers said, uncharacteristically chastened.
THIRTY-FOUR
Stone awoke the following morning, still a little steamed at Eggers, and switched on the Today show. Moments later the screen was filled with the image of a battered black Mercedes being lifted by a crane from a swimming pool, water pouring from every orifice, and it had some new orifices.
“Dr. Holland tells me that nearly a hundred mature plantings have had to be removed temporarily to allow the crane access,” the reporter was saying, “and he wants to know who’s going to pay for that. As for the Mercedes, all the glass in the car was shattered on impact, and there isn’t a body panel on the car that isn’t bent. The vehicle appears to be a total loss for whoever owns it, and that’s not even counting the two bullet holes in the left front fender.”
“Misty,” Matt Lauer said, “we’ve had confirmation that the registered owner of the car is a Spanish corporation with the rather bland name of Overseas Info. I don’t know what that is in Spanish, but our correspondent in Madrid tells us that the company is widely viewed in that country as being a front for an American intelligence agency, which shall remain nameless.”
Stone switched to Morning Joe, which had the same footage of the car. “The question here,” Joe Scarborough was saying, “is first of all, how can the CIA afford to buy very large and expensive Mercedes automobiles, and second, why are they tossing them out of airplanes, or the space shuttle, or wherever they launched the car from? And now we’re getting a report that a school custodian a little distance from the Holland mansion has discovered a discarded parachute in a trash can at the school’s soccer field. This seems to indicate that somebody was actually flying the Mercedes before bailing out.”
The people around the show’s table roared with laughter.
Stone’s phone rang. “Hello?”
“It’s Lance.”
“Good morning, Lance,” Stone said. “How is it you are discussing with Bill Eggers my presence on the C-17 the other night and, apparently, blaming me for the loss of your Mercedes?”
“I deny that,” Lance replied.
“I figured you would. Tell me, have you seen the latest film of the car on the morning TV shows?”
“I have.”
“Have you heard the mention of a company called Overseas Info, which is said to be a front for an unnamed American intelligence service?”