Turbulence (Stone Barrington #46)(28)
As they passed through the archway, a siren went off, adding to the bedlam in the restaurant, then they were out the door and being stuffed into the rear of the Bentley. Their coats landed in their laps, the door slammed, and the car swung out onto the street and accelerated down the block.
“How’d it go, Mr. Barrington?” Jack asked as he steered the big car into a four-wheel drift around a corner.
“Not as well as intended,” Stone replied. He turned to Kelly: “And I never got my birthday cake.”
* * *
—
THE CAR PULLED into the garage, the doors opened, and Stone and Kelly got out. Jack handed him the car key. “It’s been a pleasure,” he said. A moment later, they were in the library, and Stone was pouring them each a stiff brandy.
“Well,” Kelly said. “It was a nice plan, I thought.”
“Even if it didn’t work?” Stone asked, handing her a Baccarat snifter.
Kelly took a big sip, set her glass down and opened her handbag. “I thought it worked very well,” she said, taking out two envelopes and handing Stone the smaller of the two. “I believe this one is yours, and the other is mine.”
Stone sat down and opened the envelope. He extracted a card and looked at it.
“What does it say?” Kelly asked.
“Nothing. It’s just a row of numbers.”
Kelly took the card from him and examined it. “It appears to be a set of coordinates,” she said. “Somewhere in England, I believe. Does this beautiful library contain an atlas?”
Stone got up and found one in a row of large books, then handed it to her.
Kelly began flipping through the pages.
The doorbell rang, then rang again. Stone, remembering that he had given the staff the evening off, went to answer it and found Felicity Devonshire and Lance Cabot on his doorstep. They brushed past him. “Where is Kelly?” Lance asked.
“In the library,” he said, following them across the living room.
Kelly looked up from the atlas, and handed Lance the card containing the numbers.
“What does this mean?” Lance demanded.
“It’s a set of coordinates,” Kelly replied. “Centered on Red Hill Airfield, in Kent. It’s small, all grass; a Spitfire squadron was based there during the war, the big one.”
“I know it well,” Felicity said. “There’s a group of vintage aircraft based there: One can rent a Jenny or a Sopwith Camel and fly it around the south of England.”
“Come with me, Felicity,” Lance said. “There’s a phone in the living room, isn’t there?” he asked nobody in particular. “I don’t want to use my cell.”
“Help yourself,” Stone replied. The two closed the doors behind them.
“Kelly,” Stone said, “please tell me what happened from the time you and Chaka Kerwin left the table.”
“Well, when she got up I knew it wasn’t part of the plan, so I followed her to the loo, where an altercation took place.”
“What sort of altercation?”
“Another woman came into the loo, handed Chaka an envelope, and held her hand out as if to receive something. I threw her out of the loo and locked the door. Chaka swung her handbag at me, but I ducked, punched her in the solar plexus. Then, when she was doubled over, I chopped her hard on the back of the neck. She’s probably still out. I went into her handbag and found the other envelope, then I joined you for the frog-march out of the restaurant.”
“You work for Lance, don’t you,” Stone said, and it was not a question.
“I confess I do. I was recruited for the Agency out of college at Mount Holyoke, and I’ve got thirteen years on the job, as they say.”
“So you’re not a model?”
“I am. It makes for a good cover. I’m based at the New York station.”
“What’s in the other envelope?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she said, running a nail under the flap. “Oh, look,” she said, “it’s a check.” She handed it to him.
He took the slip of paper and read it aloud: “Drawn on the Standard Bank of Cyprus, made out to bearer, in the sum of ten million dollars. Jesus H. Christ!”
“I expect that was the sum Mr. Owaki was paid for disclosure of the artillery’s whereabouts,” Kelly said. “And now it’s all mine, if you are a man of your word.”
22
STONE HARRUMPHED. “Well, it’s easy to be a gentleman when it’s somebody else’s money.” He held out a hand. “Congratulations on your newfound wealth.”
She shook the hand. “Oh, thank you, kind sir,” Kelly exclaimed with theatrical effect, clutching the check to her bosom. Then she became serious. “Now, Stone, I very much need your help.”
Before she could explain herself, Lance and Felicity burst into the library. “Right,” Lance said, “we’ve dispatched forces.”
“I think it’s safe to say,” Felicity said, “that we’ve thrown everything at Red Hill.”
“Where at Red Hill?” Kelly asked. “As I recall, there are numerous buildings there—hangars and such.”
“Everywhere,” Felicity replied.