Turbulence (Stone Barrington #46)(36)
“And, we have fairly good reason to believe, flew it to Kensington House, now renamed, to the outrage of the local gentry, Selwyn Hall.”
“And do you think that is where Owaki is now?”
“That is quite another story,” Lance said. He held up a hand. “A much shorter one, I promise.”
28
LANCE REPLENISHED the scotch in his nearby glass. “Well,” he said, “it seems that Mr. Owaki is even better connected in this fair country than we had hitherto expected. After our little to-do at the bo?te the other evening, the home secretary, who had previously ejected Owaki from the country and barred his return, got his wrist slapped quite smartly by the prime minister. There was even some talk of him being moved from the Home Office to some agricultural post in Scotland, but he came around quickly enough to set everything right, including Mr. Owaki, who is, once again, free to roam the hills and dales of this charming land.”
“And where is Dame Felicity in all this?” Stone asked.
“Lying low, down in her country place on the Beaulieu River, not a stone’s throw from yours. She is expected to remain there until notified that her odor has improved among her betters.”
“So, Lance,” Stone said. “What is your next move?”
“Why, the Barristers’ Bash,” Lance replied, as if everyone knew what that was.
“Don’t make me pull this out of you, Lance.”
“The Barristers’ Bash is the nickname given to an annual ball thrown by, no surprise, the barristers of the Inns of Court, or rather by the elite among that group called Queen’s Counselors or, more familiarly, Q.C.s. This year they have hired Selwyn Hall, née Kensington House, as their venue—and not just for the evening, but for the weekend. That is why your managing partner, Mr. Eggers, is in England.”
“Bill never said anything to me about a Barristers’ Bash,” Stone said.
“That is because, like you, he had never heard of it until I enlightened him. When he did hear about it, he was most anxious to attend—at our expense, of course. Since Dame Felicity is, shall we say, momentarily indisposed, we had to rely on our own resources to get Eggers invited as an honored guest. The Q.C.s, due to the high esteem in which Woodman & Weld is held, were delighted to have him and his current wife—what’s her name?”
“Charlotte,” Stone replied.
“Charlotte, yes, and they graciously invited the Eggerses to invite another couple, if they so choose, someone with attractive legal credentials.”
“Stone,” Kelly said, “I believe Lance is speaking of us.”
“Lance,” Stone said with a touch of reproof, “is this really the only way you can get eyes and ears into this event?”
“The Q.C.s are a very tightly knit group,” Lance replied, “so this is something of a coup for us.”
“And what are we supposed to do at this ‘Bash’?”
“Why, just enjoy yourselves and nose about, that’s all. The four of you will arrive in time for cocktails on Friday and, like everyone else, dematerialize by late Sunday afternoon.”
“And where are we staying?”
“At Kensington House, of course. Nobody is quite certain how many rooms it contains, but it’s something on the order of four hundred, and several dozen of them, perhaps as many as a hundred, are bedrooms.”
“And what clothes will be required?” Kelly asked.
“You’ll need two dresses for dinner, one of which must be a ball gown, for the main event on Saturday evening, and the usual woolens, wellies, and waterproofs necessary for a pleasant, autumnal weekend in England. Stone, you’ll need black tie for Friday dinner, white tie and tails for the ball, a lounge suit, and tweeds for the daytime activities. And, because one never knows, a stout umbrella, a large one.”
“I haven’t brought tails with me,” Stone said.
“A tailor will arrive momentarily to fit you with something off the peg.”
“And how much may I spend?” Kelly asked.
“Well, we realize the ball gown will be expensive, but you have that lovely dress you wore to the bo?te. Of course, you may need to plug a few holes in your wardrobe, but we won’t be cheap about it. And if you do good work, you may keep the clothes.”
The doorbell rang.
“That will be your tailor,” Lance said.
Kelly bounced to her feet. “And I’m off to Harvey Nick’s. Is it raining outside?”
“Of course,” Lance said.
* * *
—
LANCE STAYED TO SUPERVISE Stone’s fitting, and when the tailor had gone, the two of them sat down again, Stone with another sherry and Lance with his scotch.
“Now,” Lance said, “a few items.”
“I thought there might be,” Stone replied.
“First of all, it is imperative that you learn where Owaki lays his head at night—if it’s a bedroom in the main house, a guesthouse, or a hammock in the gardens, no matter, but we must know. We’d also like to know what sort of vehicle he commonly travels in—whether it’s a Rolls or an armored personnel carrier—and what sort of entourage accompanies him on the road.”
“Is that all?” Stone asked.