Wild Card (Stone Barrington #49)(76)

“I’ll know more about that after I’ve talked to this Rasheed,” she replied. They clinked glasses and drank. “Are you ready for me to call him?”

“Let’s wait a few minutes. Dino is on his way, and I want him to hear what this guy has to say.”

“All right, I suppose it’s better to have another witness.”

“What do you think this guy has on the Thomases?” he asked.

“Maybe the shooting of Joe Box?” she suggested. “By the way, one of our reporters has learned that he’s walking and talking.”

“Anything of any importance?”

“Not yet. He doesn’t know who shot him or why anyone would try. He let slip that the Thomases have been paying a speechwriter for him, though.”

“Now, why would they do that?” Stone asked.

“Maybe to offer some competition to the rest of the field?”

“That makes sense.”

“Sort of, but only if Hank is planning to run himself. We’ve heard that the Republican National Committee has been putting out feelers for him to come home.”

“And save them from Joe Box?”

She laughed. “Maybe the Thomases did too good a job of remaking Joe, and now they’re having second thoughts.”

Stone laughed. “That’s an amusing idea,” he said. “I expect that Joe is pretty much unhandleable. He could say or do anything.”

“And has,” Jamie echoed.

Dino had let himself into the house and now joined them in the study; he poured his own scotch. “Okay,” he said. “What now?”

“Now Jamie calls her new friend, Rasheed,” Stone said.

She got out some wiring and a microphone and plugged them into her throwaway. “Here we go,” she said.

They listened as the phone emitted a beep. “This is Jamie Cox,” she said. “It’s a little after seven, and I’m in a quiet place, ready to talk. Please call me on the following number.” She left the number, then hung up.

“Now what?” Dino asked.

“Now he’s supposed to call back,” Jamie said.

“See if you can get him to come here,” Dino said.

“Do you think he’s that dumb?” Stone asked.

“Maybe. It’s worth a try.”

“All right,” Jamie said, “if he gives me an opportunity, I’ll invite him.”

They chatted on for a few minutes, then the throwaway rang. Jamie held her hands up for silence, then picked up the phone. “This is Jamie.”

“And this is Rasheed,” he replied.

“Are you from the Middle East?” she asked.

“I am born in Paris, of an American father and an Algerian mother.”

“Where were you educated?” she asked.

“I was tutored. What you call homeschooled.”

“University?”

“Two years, in Paris.”

“How did you come to be in your current business?”

“I was recruited by a friend,” he said. “He’s now dead.”

“Have you lost a lot of friends in your business?”

“All of them,” he replied. “Which, in a way, is why I’m talking to you.”

“You must be very lonely.”

“I was, but not so much lately; I’ve met someone.”

“Girl? Guy?”

He paused before replying. “I am not a poofter,” he said firmly.

“Girl, then.”

“Yes, a very nice one.”

“Does that mean you are thinking of changing professions?”

“I am, as a matter of fact. I have one more job to do, then I’m a free man.”

“And what, or who, is the job?”

“I would rather not say. You will know soon enough.”

“Are you afraid I’ll turn you in?”

“You don’t have enough information to turn me in,” he replied smoothly. “And remember, you have no idea whether anything I’ve told you is true.”

“That is correct, but why would you establish contact with me, only to lie to me? I think you are telling the truth.”

“You are very perceptive.”

“You referred to a recent attempt on someone’s life: Could that have been Senator Joseph Box?”

“It could have been.”

“Why did you miss?”

“I didn’t miss. The glass deflected the round slightly, and he fell behind a desk where I couldn’t see him.”

“Did the Thomases hire you to assassinate Senator Box?”

“One of them did. I have dealt only with him.”

“Would that be Mr. Damien?”

“Again, you are very perceptive.”

“Did Damien ask you to kill Stone Barrington?”

“Perhaps. But he is safe.”

“Safe because you decided not to kill him?”

“Perhaps. I have talked too long now. Perhaps we will chat again sometime. Goodbye.”

“Wait . . .”

“Yes?”

“There are some friends I’d like you to meet. One of them is Stone Barrington.”

“Then the other must be his policeman friend, Mr. Bacchetti.”