43
STONE SAID GOODBYE TO LANCE ON the steps of the Connaught, then set off down Mount Street toward Berkeley Square, walking slowly, so that Dino could follow, window-shopping along the way. It was time to see if anyone was following him.
He walked around the square, letting Dino follow from a distance, and, on a whim, walked into Jack Barclay’s, the Rolls-Royce dealer. A young man approached him immediately.
“Good afternoon, sir. May I help you?”
“I’d like to look at a Bentley, please.” The showroom was a good place from which to spot a tail, with its large windows overlooking Berkeley Square. Stone couldn’t see Dino.
“The Arnage—that’s the saloon car—or the convertible?”
“The Arnage.”
“This way.” He led Stone across the large sales floor. “Would this be for UK use or export?”
“UK,” Stone lied, thinking that the young man would send him to an American dealer if he said otherwise.
“Here we are,” the salesman said, stopping before a gleaming black example of the car. “This one is in black with Autumn upholstery.”
“May I see the engine?”
The salesman opened the car’s hood to reveal a large engine bay, stuffed with equipment.
“What is the displacement and horsepower?” Stone asked, still unable to spot Dino.
“Six point eight liters, turbocharged; four hundred horsepower and six hundred and fifteen pounds of torque, available at low revs.”
“Acceleration and top speed?”
“Zero to sixty miles per hour in five point nine seconds. Unfortunately, the top speed is electronically limited to a hundred and fifty-five miles per hour.”
“Very impressive,” Stone said, opening the driver’s-side door and getting behind the right-side steering wheel. While the salesman droned on about the car’s features, Stone was able to sweep the square from his seat, and he still could not spot Dino. Surely he hadn’t walked too fast. He got out of the car.
“Would you like a brochure?” the salesman asked.
“Yes, thank you, and your card.”
The salesman dropped both into an envelope and handed it to Stone. “We hope to hear from you,” he said.
“Thank you.” Stone walked out into the square; still no sign of Dino on the busy streets. Had he followed at all? He walked back to the Connaught and went up to his suite. He was relaxing, reading the Bentley brochure, when Dino let himself in from next door. Half an hour had passed since Stone returned to the hotel.
“Where have you been?” Stone asked. “Did I move too fast for you?”
“Nope, and not for the four-man team following you, either.”
“There were four men following me?”
“Well, two of the men were women. They were very good, too, working both sides of the street, changing places. I don’t know if I would have made them, if they’d been following me, but since I was following you, it was easier to see what was going on.”
“Any idea of nationality?”
“They didn’t appear ethnic, so I’d say English or American.”
“What about the shoes?”
“The men wore expensive shoes with thin soles, so they’re not cops, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No thick soles and white socks, then?”