“I had already learned of my acquittal in New York, which came later in the same day I departed, so through my tax attorney in New York, I contacted the Internal Revenue Service and negotiated a settlement for any past taxes due and a declaration that I was no longer in violation of United States tax law.” Pablo took a document from his pocket and handed it to Lance. “Here is a copy of that document, signed by the director of Internal Revenue at that time.”
Lance read the document aloud for the benefit of the taping system. “And so you were made clean under U.S. law?”
“Yes,” Pablo replied, “and I have remained so.” He smiled slightly. “Although I recognize that I may have a traffic violation to deal with in the State of New York with regard to my operation of an automobile there.”
Stone allowed himself a chuckle, while everyone else looked uncomfortable. He began to relax; Pablo was doing just fine.
FORTY-ONE
Stone listened, entranced, as Pablo related more than thirty instances of arms sales abroad, giving dates, places, and names of buyers—all without using notes. The CIA team hardly spoke, just made furious notes.
At five o’clock, Stone held up a hand. “It’s five o’clock, ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “We will adjourn and reconvene at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”
Lance glanced through his notes. “All right, we will do so, as previously agreed.” He and his party got up and left the house, followed by the recording technicians carrying luggage with the tapes inside.
Stone showed Pablo to his library, fixed them both a drink, and sat down. “That went very, very well,” he said to Pablo. “You were right; you have a remarkable memory.”
“It’s more a gift than an acquired skill,” Pablo said.
“More of the same tomorrow?”
“Yes, I think so,” Pablo replied. He stared into his drink, then tapped his ear.
Stone produced Cantor’s device and pressed the button.
“I have a concern,” Pablo said.
“How can I help?” Stone asked.
“I don’t know that you can. This morning I walked the distance from my apartment to this house. Halfway here I became aware of a four-man team following me.”
Stone sat up straight. “Might they have been foreign?”
“I don’t think so. They were conventionally Caucasian and dressed in business clothes. One was a woman.”
“They had to be Lance’s,” Stone said. “Do you know if they saw you depart your building?”
“I don’t believe so,” Pablo replied. “I was very careful when leaving my apartment, and I saw no sign of being followed.”
“They have to belong to Lance; the four-man team is a technique they teach at the Farm, the Agency’s training facility. The NYPD also teaches it, but they would have no reason to be interested in or even aware of you.”
“That’s what I think, as well.”
“I don’t think you should return to your apartment right now,” Stone said, “but I think we can get you safely back later tonight. We’ll have dinner first.”
“All right.”
Stone pressed the button again.
They took a taxi to Elaine’s, where Dino awaited them.
“Dino,” Stone said, “this is Pablo.”
Dino shook hands. “Pablo what?”
“He doesn’t have a last name,” Stone said quickly. “You will have heard of his expertise in flying the Mercedes 550, though.”
“Ah, my congratulations,” Dino said, laughing. “How did you manage to hit that pool?”