Both men looked wary. Finally, Jones spoke. “I know someone who can do it. But for how long?”
“Let’s start with a week,” Stone said.
“Could be pricey; I mean, there is a risk.”
“I don’t mind paying, but I want someone who can do it without risk to himself, you, or me. And I don’t want him to know who I am.”
“Understood,” Jones said. “I’ll get onto my man today.”
Cricket spoke up. “You understand, I didn’t hear any of that.”
“Understood,” Stone said. “Bobby, why don’t you take Cabot, and Ted, you can have the other man.”
Both men nodded. They shook hands all around, and the two men left.
Stone looked at his watch; he had half an hour to pack for the weekend.
9
MONICA BURROUGHS ARRIVED AT THE Connaught in an Aston Martin, and the combination of the car and the beautiful woman at the wheel impressed the doorman. Stone’s luggage was loaded, and Monica drove up Mount Street to Park Lane and accelerated into the traffic, driving faster than Stone would have under the circumstances.
“Did you sleep well?” Monica asked.
“Very well, thank you.”
“I’m sorry to hear it; I thought you’d have lain awake, thinking of me.”
“I dreamed of you.”
“Something erotic, I hope.”
“Of course.”
She cut across two lanes of traffic and turned into Hyde Park. Shortly, they were in the Cromwell Road, heading west, as Monica constantly shifted up and down and changed lanes.
Stone tried to relax. “Who are our hosts for the weekend?” he asked.
“Lord and Lady Wight,” Monica replied. “He recently inherited the title from an uncle, although he managed the estates for many years while the old man was in a nursing home. The house is a nice old Georgian pile that has just undergone a five-year renovation that cost millions. I can’t wait to see it. His lordship made lots and lots of money in property development, so he can afford the title.” She glanced at him slyly. “Before he inherited, his name was Sir Robert Buckminster.”
Stone sat up straight. “Is he related to a woman named Sarah Buckminster?”
“She’s his daughter; know her?”
“Yes.” He had known her all too well in New York. They had practically lived together until someone had started trying to kill him, and when a bomb was placed in a gallery showing her paintings, she abruptly left New York, swearing never to return. “I knew her rather well. How do you know her?”
“My gallery represents her work in this country. We had a very successful show last month, sold out the lot.”
“Tell me, Monica, did you know that Sarah and I knew each other?”
She smiled a little. “I’d heard your name from her.”
“And does Sarah know I’m coming to her father’s house for the weekend?”
“No. I wasn’t going to tell you about Sarah, either; I wanted to see the look on both your faces, but I couldn’t stand the suspense. Now, I suppose, I’ll have to be content with the look on her face.”
This was all too catty for Stone. “Take me back to the Connaught,” he said.
“What?”