Lucid Intervals (Stone Barrington 18)

“Not quite yet, Herbie.”

“I want to buy a jet airplane,” Herbie said. “I can afford it.”

“How much money do you have left, Herbie?”

“A little over ten million.”

“You could buy a used jet airplane for around two million,” Stone said, “but flying it and maintaining it would cost a lot every month. You’d have to hire a pilot, maybe a copilot, too, depending on which airplane you bought, and when something breaks on a jet, Herbie, it is very, very expensive to repair.”

“Oh,” Herbie said. “I didn’t know that.”

“I suggest you explore the idea of first class on the airlines.”

“I don’t like the airport experience,” Herbie replied. “I especially don’t like going through security. They always suspect me of something.”

“Then join one of the share programs,” Stone suggested.

“I’ve seen those in magazine ads. Which one should I join?”

“I don’t have any experience with that, Herbie. I suggest you call, say, three of them, then compare the deals.”

“How much does it cost?”

“Again, I don’t know, but it will depend on the size of the jet you buy into.”

“Okay, I’ll look into it,” Herbie said, getting up. “I’ll tell Stephanie to come see you about the prenup.”

“Herbie,” Stone said, “tell her attorney to call me. Please.”

IN THE EARLY afternoon, Joan came into Stone’s office and handed him a sheet of paper with a number on it. “The bank called,” she said. “We received a wire transfer from London in that amount, which is, I assume, your fee from Felicity in dollars.”

Stone looked at the number. “I see the dollar is down against the pound,” he said, smiling. “First time I ever got a good deal on a currency exchange. Go spend it.”

Joan did so.

50

Stone met Dino at Elaine’s for dinner, and they were on their second drink before Felicity arrived, looking oddly happy.

“I was going to ask what’s wrong,” Stone said, “but I suppose, given your mien, I should ask what’s right.”

“You are very perceptive,” she said. “What’s right is that I appear to have won.”

“I don’t suppose you’d care to say what you’ve won in the presence of Lieutenant Bacchetti,” Stone said, nodding at Dino.

“My lips are sealed,” Dino said.

“I don’t distrust your lips, Dino,” Felicity replied, “but forgive me if I talk in riddles.”

“Riddle away.” Dino went back to his drink and ogled a young woman at the bar.

Felicity leaned in close to Stone. “I’ve won the argument with my betters.”

“Whitestone?” Stone mouthed.

“Have you ever heard of lip reading?” Felicity asked. “And you’re facing the window.”

“Whitestone?” Stone whispered without moving his lips.