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Lucid Intervals (Stone Barrington 18)

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Stone did as instructed.

48

Felicity called late in the afternoon. “Can we meet for dinner somewhere different? I’m gaining weight.”

“How about Café des Artistes?” Stone suggested.

“Fine. Eight o’clock? I’ll be working until then.”

“Good.” Stone hung up and asked Joan to book the table.

FELICITY ARRIVED WITH her omnipresent attaché case, and Stone held a chair for her. He ordered them Champagne fraise des bois, glasses of Champagne with a strawberry liqueur at the bottom.

“I’ve heard this place is about to close,” Stone said.

“What? Why?”

“The owner is getting very old, and the lease may be a problem, too. It’s been here for more than ninety years and has had only two owners.”

“How sad.”

They both looked at the Howard Chandler Christy murals of nubile, nude young women greeting conquistadors in a jungle setting.

“Have you noticed,” Stone said, “that while the girls have different faces, they all have the same body?”

“I hadn’t, but you’re right,” Felicity said. “I hope someone will take care of them.”

“So do I,” Stone replied. “What happened today?”

“Today has been devoted to keeping things from happening,” she said.

“Any luck?”

“All I’ve got to fight with is my resignation, and they know that if they accept it I may talk to other people about why.” Stone began to speak, but she held up a hand. “And I still can’t talk about it,” she said.

“If they accept your resignation, then can you talk about it?”

“Maybe.”

“So I’ll just have to sit on my curiosity.”

“All right, I’ll tell you some news, but in the strictest confidence.”

“Of course.”

“The grave Hackett showed you in the churchyard in Maine is empty. That is, there is no corpse or even a coffin or an urn in it. It’s not a grave at all, in fact, just a headstone.”

Stone sucked in a breath through his teeth. “So Hackett lied to me about that.”

“He not only lied to you; he also went to considerable lengths to deceive you by creating a phony grave.”

“And phony photographs of a corpse and phony fingerprints.”

“Did you notice that there were no fingerprints in the army service record he sent me?” she asked.

“Now that you mention it,” Stone replied. “Do your superiors know about all this?”

“Not yet,” she replied, sipping her Champagne.



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