Wild Card (Stone Barrington #49)(77)

“Now it’s you who are perceptive.”

“Perhaps some other day,” he said, then hung up.

“Okay,” Jamie said, “I gave it my best shot.”

“He’s very talkative,” Dino said, “but what did we learn?”

“Only what he wanted us to learn,” Stone said.

“Well,” Jamie said, “at least you’re off the griddle.”

“At least, that’s what he said,” Dino said. “True or not. Maybe he wants Stone to relax a little, so he’ll be an easier target.”

“You’re a real comfort, Dino,” Stone said.

“I’m just being realistic.”

“I believe him,” Jamie said.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. He just feels credible. I think that, in his way, he’s an honest man.”

“But still an assassin,” Stone said.

“Ah, yes,” Jamie replied. “He said he has one more job to do.”

“I wonder who that could be?” Stone asked.





60


Tim Tigner took his new girlfriend, Karen Landis, to dinner at the new Four Seasons restaurant.

“This is very special,” Karen said. “What’s the occasion?”

“I don’t know yet,” Tim replied, sipping his champagne and tasting his foie gras. “Perhaps you will make it special.”

“It’s up to me, is it?” She laughed. “This is some seduction.”

“Is it not polite these days to leave the decision to the woman?”

“I suppose that’s one way to do it,” she said. “Perhaps it’s not a bad idea.”

“Well?”

“I’ll let you know,” she said.

They continued through their lavish dinner and expensive wine.

“Well,” she said finally, “I’m off tomorrow.”

“May I take that as an acceptance?” Tim asked.

“You may,” she said.

His phone vibrated on his belt. “Will you excuse me for a moment?” he asked, then headed for the men’s room. “Yes?”

“Good evening, I hope I’m not disturbing your dinner.”

“Yes, you are, so please be brief.”

“We’d like the contract completed tomorrow, as early as possible.”

“I will, if I can,” Tim said.

“There’s one other thing we’d like, though I know it may not be possible.”

“What is that?”

“We—my senior partner, in particular—would like to have a word with Mr. B. before you are finished.”

“That’s bizarre.”

“Only if it’s manageable and doesn’t jeopardize the enterprise.”

“If it is, I’ll call you,” Tim said, then hung up. He went back to his table, nursing a new idea.

“I’m ready,” Karen said.

“Then we’re both ready,” Tim replied. He paid the bill, and they left.



* * *



? ? ?

The following morning, Tim awoke very early. Karen was snoring lightly next to him in bed. He got up, dressed in light clothing, then put on a gray jumpsuit over them. He went to his secret cache of weapons and supplies and chose a few things, tucked them into the commodious pockets of the jumpsuit, and went to the garage. He got the motorcycle started, put on his helmet, and drove downtown.

He drove around slowly for a half hour, then found the perfect vehicle: an elderly but serviceable Honda van with a homemade, stick-on household repairs sign on the rear. He drove around the corner, parked the motorcycle, then returned to the van, and jump-started it. He drove around the corner, past the motorcycle, and into the parking garage of H. Thomas & Son, taking a ticket from the automated machine.

Once inside, he found a parking place, tucked away behind an elevator shaft, looked around to be sure he wouldn’t be observed, then went to work. He got out of the van, walked to the rear, and made sure the doors there were unlocked, then he opened them, got inside, and closed them behind him.

Once inside, he took an object the size of a piece of fruit—say a pear—taped it to the rear of the passenger seat, then secured a thin strand of wire from a ring on the object to the rear door of the van, the one that had to be opened first. He tightened it slightly, clipped the end, and put it in his pocket. Then he went forward and got out of the van.

He left the garage and walked around the corner to where the motorcycle was parked, started it, and sat on it as it idled. He took his throwaway cell phone from a pocket and speed-dialed Damien.



* * *



? ? ?

Damien sat in Henry’s office, with Hank next to him, sipping a cup of mid-morning coffee. He glance at the cell phone, recognized the number, and picked it up. “Just a moment,” he said to his companions, “this may be news.” He pressed a button. “Yes?”

“You know who this is?”

“Of course.”

“You made a request last evening?”

“I did.”

“That has been accomplished. Would you like to visit, briefly, with the gentleman?”