Stone tried to sound puzzled. “Real name? I know him only by that name.”
“Are you still in his employ?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I discovered that Miss Burroughs is not his niece, and that he seemed to have other motives for hiring me.”
“What motives?”
“He seemed to have some animus for Mr. Cabot.”
“For what reason?”
“He did not confide that to me. When I discovered he was lying to me, I resigned from his employ.”
“Have you seen him since that time?”
“No.”
There was a scraping noise from the table in front of him, and Stone realized that the contents of his pockets were on the table. A hand picked up the satellite telephone and held it in the light for Stone to see.
“What is this?”
“It’s a telephone.”
“What kind of telephone?”
“A cellphone, like any other.” Stone heard beeps as a number was tapped into the phone. A moment later, a phone rang in another room. The phone was returned to the table.
“Describe John Bartholomew.”
“Six feet three or four, heavyset, dark hair going gray, sixtyish.”
“Nationality?”
“American, as far as I know.”
“Why do you carry a false passport?” A hand held it in the light.
“If it’s false, then they’re handing out false documents at the passport office in the London embassy of the United States of America. If you’ll check the date of issue, you’ll see I got it last week.”
There was some whispering among the three men, then the smooth voice spoke again. If you have left Mr. Bartholomew’s employ, why do you remain in Britain?”
“Tourism.”
“Mr. Barrington, you are trying my patience again.”
“A woman, as well.”
“What woman?”
“Sarah Buckminster. Don’t you read the papers?”
“You are interested in her?”
“Yes.”