The Short Forever (Stone Barrington 8)

“I don’t care,” the man was saying. “This is getting dangerous.”

“We have to do this,” she said. “What choice do we have? How else are we going to make this kind of money?”

“Why do we have to take all the risks?” he asked.

“We’re not taking all the risks; Lance is doing his part.”

“Let’s get back to London,” the man said, standing up.

Stone turned his back to them, pretending to examine a photograph of the pub on the wall next to him. He didn’t want them to register his face; he might run into them again.

When they had been gone long enough to get to their car and drive away, Stone left the pub and walked back to the Morris Minor. Sarah was just coming out of the grocery with a cart filled with bags, and he helped her stow them in the rear of the estate car.

They were back in plenty of time for lunch, and found Erica had joined the living. After they had eaten, Lance took Stone into the morning room and sat him down.

“I’ve done some looking into your background,” he said, “and I like what I’ve learned.”

“What have you learned?” Stone asked.

“I’ve learned what sort of policeman you were and what sort of lawyer you are now. I’m impressed with the variety and depth of your experience.”

“Thank you,” Stone said, not sure what to make of this.

“I think you and I might do some business together. Interested?”

“What sort of business?”

“Profitable.”

“How profitable?”

“Very.”

“How illegal?”

“Entirely aboveboard,” Lance said. “And the money will be made quickly.”

“In my experience,” Stone replied, “fast money is usually made at the expense of the law and at the risk of prison. I’m not interested in either of those possibilities.”

“I assure you, this would be a straightforward business transaction.”

“Why do you need me to accomplish this transaction?”

“First, there’s some legal work in New York; I need to create a corporation and open banking and brokerage accounts in the corporation’s name.”

“Any attorney could do that,” Stone said. “Why me?”

“Because you’re here, and I’m not in New York,” Lance replied. “It’s as simple as that.”

Stone had a feeling it was not at all simple. “I’d have to know all of what you intend to do and how you intend to do it.”

“Not just yet.”

“I’m sorry,” Stone said, “I won’t be involved unless I know what I’m getting into.”

“I promise, you’ll only be doing what any New York attorney would be doing.”

“You mean, what I don’t know won’t hurt me?”