“That’s very perceptive of you, Stone,” Lance said, a sneer in his voice. “Why the hell else would a multibillionaire you didn’t know invite you to meet two other multibillionaires you didn’t know? Do you think they might have a motive other than enjoying your company?”

“Thank you, Lance, I get your point.”

“May I also infer that right around this time, the two bogus FBI agents showed up at your house, and Ed Rawls’s house was burned to the ground?”

Stone sighed. “That is not an unreasonable inference to draw.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Lance, do you think Will Lee knows about all this?”

“I’m certain of it,” Lance said. “I told him myself.”

“When?”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

“I think there’s something else I’d better tell you that you don’t know,” Stone said.

“I hope you’re wrong about that.”

“All right, Ed has a secret cellar reached by a tunnel from his house that contains his archives—a backup for everything he says in his manuscript.”

“Well, I had guessed that something like that existed, but I didn’t know where it was.”

“Before you do anything about that,” Stone said, “let me talk to Ed. It may be possible that he would do the right thing and allow the contents of the strong case and his archives to be destroyed.”

“That would be very nice,” Lance said. “Please put that to him.” Lance’s attention seemed to wander for a moment before he spoke. “Then all we would have to worry about is what’s in Ed Rawls’s head.”

30

STONE DECIDED TO WALK HOME and declined a lift in Lance’s bulletproof boxcar. It was a lovely day and he meandered to Park Avenue and walked, admiring the tulips, downtown to his own neighborhood, then home, all the way rehashing the situation and deciding what was the right thing to do. As he let himself into the house via his office door, he made his judgment. Joan was not at her desk.

He sat down in his office and buzzed Ed Rawls’s room. No answer. He buzzed Fred.

“Yes, sir?”

“Have you seen Mr. Rawls this afternoon?”

“No, sir. I left the house for an hour or so to have a small repair done on the Bentley and returned only a few minutes ago.”

“Thank you, Fred.”

He heard Joan come through the front door. He buzzed her. “Joan?”

She picked up. “Yes?”

“Do you know where Ed Rawls is?”

“He had lunch in his room. After that, I went to the hairdresser’s, as is my weekly wont.”

“Thank you.” Stone pressed the page button on his phone. “Ed, if you’re in the house, please pick up any telephone.”

A phone was picked up, but not by Ed. “Stone?” Holly said.

“Funny, you don’t sound like Ed Rawls.”