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.

“Yes, that argument,” she replied. “I believe the contretemps involving my former colleague has abated, to the point of nonexistence.”

“How did you manage that?”

“My hint that I might discuss the situation with those outside my service seemed to do the trick.”

“You mean your betters are afraid of being exposed?”

“Exactly. I don’t think anyone in my position has ever even hinted at a public discussion of any matter.”

“You got their attention, then,” Stone said. “I congratulate you. I tried that with the NYPD once, and it got me early retirement.”

“I’m too young to retire,” Felicity said, “but my betters are not. I think visions of questions in Parliament followed by lurid headlines finally did the trick.”

“Should I let my client know?”

“I think you may do so,” she said. “Do you know how to reach him?”

“Now that you mention it, no.”

“Well, next time he reaches you, then.”

“Will do.”

“Tell me, did you tell him that his little trick with the cemetery plot didn’t work?”

“I can’t divulge a conversation with a client,” Stone said, “or even that such a conversation has taken place, but I have reason to believe that he is aware that that little jig is up.”

“Good. I shouldn’t like him to think that he can fool me so easily.”

“If I should ever speak to him again,” Stone said, “I will convey that thought to him.”

“Yes, please.”

WHEN STONE GOT home, the message light on his bedside phone was blinking. He pushed the necessary buttons to get the recording and heard the now-familiar voice from a barrel.

“A flight plan will be filed for you tomorrow morning for a departure at ten a.m. local,” Hackett said. “You may get your routing from Teterboro Clearance Delivery. Pack for two nights.” Hackett hung up.

“Was that your client?” Felicity asked from the other side of the bed.

“If it were, I couldn’t tell you,” Stone replied.

“Well, if you’re finished with your telephonery, would you kindly devote your attention to me?”