Turbulence (Stone Barrington #46)(39)
Stone figured it was time he began gleaning information. “What other buildings are on the estate?” he asked the older gentlemen.
“Oh, the usual cottages for staff, barns for the horses, kennels for the dogs, greenhouses, agricultural buildings for the equipment, and, Mr. Owaki’s personal addition, an eight-thousand-foot airstrip and a great huge hangar to house his personal air force.”
“That’s very impressive,” Stone said. “How is it you’ve come to know so much about the place?”
“Client of mine owns the estate agency that sold the estate,” he replied. “I saw all the plans and brochures. Still have ’em.”
“Those must be fascinating,” Stone said.
“If you’d like to drop by the Inns of Court one day for a bit of lunch, I’d be happy to show them to you. My name’s Pelton-Furnham, John J.; Molly’s the wife.” He nodded toward the small, gray woman next to him.
“A pleasure,” Stone said. “I’m Stone Barrington, and this is my friend, Kelly Smith.”
“A Yank, are you?”
“I am.”
“And a barrister?”
“Just an attorney. We don’t distinguish between trial lawyers and the others on our side of the pond.”
“What firm?”
“Woodman & Weld. My friend, Bill Eggers, across the table, is our managing partner.”
“Ah, yes. Fine firm, sterling reputation.”
“Thank you,” Eggers said from across the table.
Pelton-Furnham gave him a thumbs-up. “I meant it about lunch,” he said to Stone, handing him his card.
“I’d like that very much.”
“Monday, one o’clock? The address is on the card.”
“I accept with pleasure,” Stone said.
* * *
—
THE NEXT COURSE ARRIVED, a breast of pheasant with a sauce of morel mushrooms and assorted vegetables. A card on the table said they were grown on the estate. A good claret, Chateau Gloria, was served with it.
Kelly leaned in to Stone. “Nice catch,” she said.
“I hope you’re right,” Stone replied. “I’m sure Lance will be interested.”
“Have you checked our schedule while we’re here?”
“We’re assigned to a tour of the menagerie at ten AM,” he said. “We’re to be out front to be picked up by a tram for the experience.”
Dessert was a selection of ice creams from the estate’s dairy, which Stone found irresistible. That was followed by Stilton and a lovely vintage port, then coffee and cognac.
The dinner broke up fairly early, with everyone drunk and ready for bed. Stone and Kelly trudged up the broad staircase to their room and began undressing.
“At some point,” Stone said, “we’re going to have to break away from the crowd and explore the airfield and whatever else is out there.”
“We may run into resistance there.”
“We won’t know if we don’t try.”
They got to bed early.
31
STONE WOKE BEFORE DAWN and got into the shower. A moment later, Kelly joined him and began soaping things.
“I’m so glad you enjoy your work,” Stone said.
“Are you my work?”
“I’m your pawn,” he said. “Sorry to wake you so soon, but it might be a good time to take a look at the farther reaches of the estate.”
They dressed in tweeds and macintoshes and made their way outside. As they walked around the house, a blur of tan fur shot around the corner and came at them. “Hey, puppy,” Stone shouted, clapping his hands. Immediately, another dog joined them and Stone and Kelly were kept busy for a minute accepting their affectionate behavior. “Just like home,” Stone said. A man wearing work clothes came around the building, with two leashes in his hand. “King! Sheba!” he shouted. The dogs ran to him, then returned to Stone and Kelly.
“I’m sorry about that,” the young man said. “I was just letting them out for a morning walk.”
“Why don’t you let us take care of that,” Stone said, reaching for the leashes. “I’ve got one at home just like this.”
“Well, that will be all right, I suppose. Just drop them off at the kennels round back when you return.” He handed Stone a ball. “You might like to take this along; it will assure you of their attention.”
Stone and Kelly strode off toward the rear of the estate, the dogs running to and fro, chasing the ball and dropping it at their feet.
“Nice camouflage,” Kelly said. “Who’s going to question those beauties?”
They walked on for a half hour, and the runway came into view, with two large hangars at the opposite end. Stone put the dogs on their leashes and handed one to Kelly. “Let’s keep them in hand.”
The hangars appeared deserted, their doors wide open. “Look, a Gulfstream 650,” he said to Kelly.
“And a couple of Citations, including the new Latitude,” she replied.
They walked next door and found a military-type transport, a small jet fighter-bomber, and an Aérospatiale SA 330 helicopter, all with French markings.