Turbulence (Stone Barrington #46)(26)

“It will also be your responsibility to get her out of the restaurant,” Felicity said. “With as little fuss as possible. I trust she won’t scream or faint.”

“She’s not the type to do either,” Stone said.

“Well then,” Felicity said, picking up the leather-bound box and handing it to Lance. “We’ll be off. Your car will be waiting outside at seven-thirty. Our driver will see that you are delivered at five past eight. Good afternoon.”

Stone stood and watched them leave, then sat down and took a deep breath. Now he was going to have to brief Kelly, and he couldn’t be sure how she was going to take it.

As if on cue, Kelly walked into the library and sat down next to Stone. “I confess I was eavesdropping,” she said. “I arrived at the door the moment Lance said that you were going to shoot Owaki in the head, and I heard everything after that.”





20



STONE STARED AT KELLY. “If you heard all of that, I expect you won’t want to attend this event.”

“On the contrary,” she replied, “it sounds like an exciting evening.”

“You understand that it could get a little too exciting?”

“Of course. That’s the spice in the recipe, isn’t it? Anyway, I’ve always wanted to write a novel; this, if it turns out badly, might make a good first chapter.”

“And if it turns out well?”

“Then it will just be another dinner in a fancy restaurant,” she said.

“I hope to God it will.”

Kelly looked at her watch. “Goodness, I’d better rush over to Harvey Nick’s and find something smashing to wear. May I charge it to you?”

“You heard about the check being delivered to Owaki?”

“Yes.”

“You can have the check; it should cover a whole new wardrobe. God knows I don’t want it.”

She beamed at him. “How generous of you, Stone, to give me Mr. Owaki’s money.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “I mean, not to anybody.”

“Mum is the word to everybody,” she said, pressing a finger to her lips.

“Would you like the car? It may still be raining.”

“It’s not far, I’ll hoof it.” She went to the hall closet, got out her coat and an umbrella and left the house.

Stone stood in the doorway of the library and watched her go. Why was everyone so excited about this but him?

Henry, the butler/chauffeur, came up from downstairs. “Mr. Barrington?”

“Yes?”

“There’s a gentleman at the mews door asking for the key to the Bentley. He says you know about this.”

“He’s quite right, Henry. Give him the keys.”

“You won’t require my services this evening?” Henry sounded disappointed.

“It’s only for one evening, Henry,” Stone said. “Why don’t you and the wife go to a movie or something?”

“As you wish, sir.” Henry went back down the stairs.



* * *



—

AT 7:30 Stone and Kelly left the house by the front door to find the Bentley idling at the curb. Since it was still raining, a man waiting with a large umbrella walked them to the car.

Once inside, the driver turned in his seat to look at them. “Good evening, Mr. Barrington, Ms. Smith,” he said. “My name is Jack Dunfrey, I work for Scotland Yard, Special Branch, and I’ll be your driver for the evening.”

“Good evening, Jack,” Stone said.

“May I inquire, sir, is your car in any way armored or does it have bulletproof glass or any other deterrent?”

“None of the above,” Stone said. “Why do you ask?”

“Just a matter of knowing the vehicle, sir,” Jack said. “I’m happier with it unarmored; it will be lighter and more maneuverable.”

“I’m happy for you,” Stone said.

“I should mention that we will be preceded by a police vehicle and followed by another, but at sufficient distances not to attract the attention of the opposition. You won’t even notice them, unless we require their assistance.”

“‘Opposition’?” Stone asked.

“Just an expression, sir, for whoever might be out there in the night.”

“Thank you, Jack, let’s get on with it.”

“Kindly fasten your seat belts,” Jack said, waiting for it to be done before he moved the car, and move the car he did. Stone and Kelly were thrown violently sideways as Jack executed a U-turn, then made several sharp lefts and rights, down streets and mewses, emerging suddenly into the heavy traffic of Hyde Park Corner, a large traffic circle.

“Sorry about the bother, sir; just checking for tails.”

“Quite all right, Jack. Any tails?”

“Nary a one, sir. I always like to start off clean.”

“Understood,” Stone replied.

They traveled into Park Lane, then turned off past the Dorchester Hotel and through other streets. After yet another turn, Jack slowed the car to a crawl and seemed to speak into his sleeve. “Coast is clear,” he said. “One hundred meters to go.” He sped up to a normal speed, then slid quietly to a stop before a yellow awning with the name of the restaurant emblazoned on it in a discrete size and typeface. A uniformed doorman opened the door for them, and as Stone passed the man, he muttered, “All is well, sir, just another evening out.”