“But you came to London at his request.”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve attracted the attention of the police. How, may I ask?”
“You may have read in the papers about two gentlemen found dead in the trunk of a car in Hyde Park?”
“I heard of it less than an hour after they were discovered. Are you connected to that incident in some way?”
“One of them was wearing my raincoat.”
Mason burst out laughing. “Goodness, that would put the coppers onto you, wouldn’t it. Who’s the man in charge, if you know his name?”
“Detective Inspector Evelyn Throckmorton.”
“Oh, yes, he’s all right.”
“I was already acquainted with him.”
“How?”
“I used to be a police detective in New York; a friend of mine on the force introduced me to him.”
“Nice to have an introduction in a strange city, isn’t it? Well, I think you should forget about the detective inspector and put your trust in me, from here on in,” Mason said. “Sam thought so, too.”
“All right.”
Carpenter got up, went to a briefcase on a table, took out a small tape recorder, set it on the coffee table, and switched it on; then she sat back and prepared to listen.
Mason made a motion that Stone should continue.
Stone looked at the recorder, then at Carpenter, then Mason. He shook his head slowly.
Mason leaned forward and switched off the recorder. “My, my, you are cautious, aren’t you?”
Stone nodded. “I wouldn’t like to hear this conversation played back to me in a courtroom someday.”
“Entirely understandable,” Mason said. “You’re a lawyer, Sam tells me.”
“Right.”
“Well, let me put your mind at rest, Mr. Barrington; Carpenter and I are not the police; the organization we work for conducts its business without reference to the police, unless we need them for some small chore or other. Tell me, just between us. Do you believe that you may have committed a crime while in Britain?”
“I didn’t shoot those two men, if that’s what you mean.”
“Anything else? Drug smuggling? Rape? Incest? Cross the street without looking both ways?”
“No, nothing.”
“You didn’t boot poor James Cutler off that yacht, did you?”
“No.”
“That’s what I heard; heard you did your damnedest to save the poor chap.”
“I got wet.”
Mason leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and his voice changed, lowered, became friendlier. “Relax, Stone,” he said. “We’re here to help. Start at the beginning, now.”