Lucid Intervals (Stone Barrington 18)

“He called our firm and reported the sighting but didn’t wish to discuss it on the phone. He made an appointment to meet with a member of my service who works in our UN delegation, but he didn’t keep it.”

“You make that sound sinister,” Stone said.

“It is sinister,” she replied. “The MP has not been seen again by anyone.”

“You’re right,” Stone said. “That is sinister.”

“I am happy you perceive it as such,” Felicity said, “because I am fond of you, and I would not wish you to suffer for a lack of caution.”

“So, let’s summarize,” Stone said. “Stanley Whitestone is smart, wily, nondescript in appearance and inclined to kill rather than be discovered.”

“That is correct.”

“Surely there is something else you can tell me about him,” Stone said.

Felicity looked thoughtful. “He is fond of women, fine dining and most of the arts-the opera in particular.”

“Is there anyone in your service in New York who might recognize him on sight?”

“I might; I knew him as a young agent. He had a peculiar way of walking, as if he had had some childhood disease that slightly crippled him.”

“A limp. That could help.”

“Not a limp, exactly, just an odd gait. He could walk normally for short periods, if he concentrated, but he always reverted to the gait.”

“I’ll add an odd gait to his list of traits,” Stone said. “You haven’t told me what to do with him if I find him.”

“Invite him to this house,” she said, “then sit on him until I can get here.”

“In this country, we call that kidnapping.”

“Well, yeessss,” Felicity drawled, “there is that. Try not to get caught doing it, or I will have to deny all knowledge of your activities.”

“I see,” Stone replied, and he did.

4

Felicity dressed and departed in her borrowed Rolls, and Stone dressed and went down to his office. There was little on his desk to demand his attention. He began thinking about where he might borrow a couple of hundred thousand dollars to square his more pressing debts.

The law firm of Woodman & Weld, which employed him to handle cases they did not wish to be seen to handle, came to mind, but Bill Eggers, his law school friend and the managing partner of the firm, was not a ready lender, and it would be humiliating for Stone to beg.

His banker liked him, but Stone had already, with great reluctance, taken out a large loan secured by his house. He could pay some of the bills with his credit cards, but that would buy him less than a month.

There was a knock at the door, and Joan stood there, smiling. “Good morning!” she said cheerfully.

Stone looked at her suspiciously. “What’s so good about it? I read your note.”

“You’ll be happy to know that the money arrived, and I’ve paid all the bills, including the loan

on the house.”

Stone stared at her, stupefied. “Have you started drinking in the mornings?”

“Of course not, silly.”

“What money are you talking about?”

“The money you were expecting.”