Shoot First(Stone Barrington #45)(67)

Meg was ushered in by the butler, and Stone introduced her to Felicity, who looked her up and down appraisingly. She was wearing a red sheath dress, and Felicity obviously approved. He made Meg a martini and Felicity a second one, then they gathered at the fireplace.

“I understand you are in the intelligence trade,” Meg said to her.

“I’m very much afraid that I can neither affirm nor deny that,” Felicity replied. “I understand that you are receiving the attention of nefarious characters.”

“I can affirm that,” Meg replied. “Can you have people shot?”

“Not in my own neighborhood, I fear,” Felicity replied. “I’m just across the river, you know.”

“I have heard,” Meg replied.

“I don’t know why Stone couldn’t handle something like that himself,” Felicity said. “There’s a very good deer rifle from Holland & Holland right over there in his gun cabinet.” She nodded toward it.

“Not in my own neighborhood,” Stone said.

“Perhaps I should do it myself,” Meg said. “I’m a very good shot.”

“I would certainly have no objection,” Felicity said, “but I can’t speak for Her Majesty’s Government, who might take exception—in the nicest possible way, of course.”

“Of course,” Stone said.

“I could, perhaps, put in a word with the home secretary before your sentencing, though.”

“How kind of you,” Meg replied, and they all laughed.



* * *



—

DINNER WAS a country paté and pheasant from the estate, accompanied by a bottle of outstanding old claret from Windward Hall’s cellar, followed by Stilton and a vintage port.

Stone was pleased to see that the two women got on famously, and Felicity had been a perfect lady.

“Now then,” Felicity said over her second glass of port, “we must do something about your situation. I think it’s appalling that you can’t even take a walk or go for a gallop.”

“What can be done?” Stone asked.

“The insufferable Mr. Owaki believes himself to be untouchable,” she said, “and I always enjoy upsetting the carts of the insufferable. Perhaps his new factory hasn’t been subjected to the proper level of inspection by various departments of the county council.”

“Since Owaki is a new employer in the district,” Stone said, “I doubt if they would wish to make him uncomfortable.”

“Still, he isn’t actually building anything yet, is he?”

“The county newspaper says he is continuing to build the sports cars for which his factory is famous.”

“And losing ten thousand pounds on every one,” Felicity replied. “That’s why he was able to buy the concern cheaply. I think you’re already doing the thing that will hurt him most—depriving him of the designs of what he would really like to build.”

“You know, my board has discussed the possibility of manufacturing on this side of the pond,” Meg said.

Stone smiled. “Perhaps they would vote to make Mr. Owaki an insultingly low offer for the place.”

“That would be very satisfying,” Meg said.

Felicity spoke up. “I could put you in touch with a British intermediary who would keep the source of the offer a dark secret.”

“I’ll make some calls tomorrow,” Meg said.





51




Stone was taking a nap the following afternoon, paying the price for the good bourbon, claret, and port he had ingested the previous evening, when Meg came into the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Stone, wake up,” she said.

“Mmmmf?” he replied.

“Open your eyes and ears. I have important news.”

Stone opened one eye. “How much port did I drink last night?”

“Three glasses, just like Felicity and I. Now listen to me carefully.”

“I’m listening carefully,” Stone said, opening the other eye.

“I’ve just spoken with my attorneys in San Francisco, and they told me that they filed for all our patents on the date I asked them to. However, upon checking, they find that they have no acknowledgment of that fact from the U.S. Patent Office.”

“That’s all right, they will have confirmation of delivery from whatever shipping service they used.”

“I’m afraid not,” she said. “They sent it to the post office, along with all their other outgoing mail that day—their mailroom has a record of it going out—but it was sent by ordinary mail, not registered mail, so there is no record of a notice of receipt from the patent office, who say that they have no record of it being filed.”

Stone sat up in bed. “Your attorneys should have received a notice that would allow you to use the designation ‘Patent Applied For.’”

“I’m afraid they didn’t.”

“Then your attorneys need to begin an immediate investigation of what happened to the package, questioning every employee who could have handled it.”

“They are doing that now. My question to you is, if they can’t find a notice of receipt, what is my position?”