Turbulence (Stone Barrington #46)(45)

“Yes,” Lance replied, “but not when.”

“I gather Mr. Owaki comes and goes at will, and unannounced. He does appear to turn up at big events on the estate, especially where he might encounter influential people.”

“Yes,” Lance breathed. “You all right? Not shaken up by the bombing?”

“Thanks for asking, we’re both well, but only because of some smoked salmon sandwiches.”

“You think Arthur Steele is going to spring for a new Bentley?” Lance asked. This was their mutual acquaintance, and also the head of the Steele Insurance Group. Stone served on their board.

“He’d damned well better,” Stone said.

“If he won’t,” Lance said, “we’ll step up. You should pop round to the dealership tomorrow and order a new car. Then you can tell Arthur exactly how much it’s going to cost him.”

“I think I’ll do that,” Stone said.

“I’ll have a word with the manager there; see if they can do you a loaner while you wait for delivery.”

“What a good idea,” Stone said.

Lance deposited them on Stone’s doorstep, and Henry appeared to deal with the luggage.

“Problem with the Bentley,” Stone said when Henry inquired about its absence.



* * *



—

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Stone popped into the Bentley dealer in Berkeley Square, on the way to his lunch date, which Sir John had expanded to include Lance.

“Ah, good morning, Mr. Barrington,” the manager said, when summoned. “I’ve been expecting you.” He showed Stone to a leather sofa in the showroom and ordered coffee for them. “Now then,” he said. “I understand that your present motorcar will require replacement. Is that so?”

“I don’t believe it can be repaired,” Stone said.

“Well, I’m glad that the problem was, shall we say, external to the vehicle.”

“Yes, it was.”

The manager opened a folder. “I have your previous order. Shall we start with that? Any changes?”

“No, the car has been satisfactory in every way. I miss it already.”

“I had a word with the factory an hour ago,” he said. “They tell me that another Mulsanne was ordered some weeks ago by a Middle Eastern gentleman, who met an unfortunate end in circumstances not dissimilar to the fate of your car, so he won’t be taking delivery. We can still fit out the interior to your specifications, and, of course, you can select your own paint scheme. Since the Mulsanne has already been scheduled for the interior and paint shops, we could deliver in, say, a month? I can also offer you the same price as before.”

“That’s good news,” Stone said. “Yes, please.”

“The only question arising, given the circumstances, would be any armoring of the car. Would you require some degree of extra protection?”

Stone thought about it for a moment. “Thank you, I don’t think so.”

“Well then, just sign right here,” the manager said. “And we’ve managed to find a Flying Spur in our pre-owned inventory that we can loan you until delivery. Will that be satisfactory?”

“That will be most satisfactory,” Stone replied. He then set out for the Inns of Court, which provided chambers, dining and library facilities to their barrister members. Stone had never visited them, and he was looking forward to the experience.

What he found there more than met his expectations, and made him wish that American law offices could have some of their character.





36



STONE ASKED FOR Sir John and was directed to a dining room of, perhaps, a dozen tables, paneled in oak and seeming very old. Sir John and Lance sat at a table by a window, overlooking a well-tended garden courtyard.

“I see you’ve met,” Stone said, unnecessarily.

“We have,” Sir John replied, “and you’ve brought me a most interesting luncheon companion.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Stone said, then sat down.

Sir John poured him a glass of white burgundy from an open bottle. “There’s Dover sole on the menu today,” he said, “and I’ve ordered for you.”

“Thank you,” Stone replied and sampled the Puligny-Montrachet. “Excellent,” he said. “I’m sorry if I’m late. So, what have you two covered in my absence?”

“I expect you were ordering a new Bentley,” Sir John said. Stone nodded.

“You won’t have to wait too long, I hope,” Lance said. “By the way, I spoke to Arthur Steele; he’s quite willing to cover your loss.”

“He’ll have a bill before the day’s out,” Stone said.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever met,” Sir John said, “who has been the victim of a car bomb.”

“Fortunately, the car was the victim; my guests and I were lunching nearby.”

“I wonder if I should alert security that a dangerous person is among us?” Sir John asked.

“I think we’ll all be quite safe,” Lance said. “Sir John, what can you tell us about this Owaki fellow?”

“I represented the estate agents who sold Kensington House to him, and his reputation as an arms dealer preceded him. I met him only once, at the closing, which was held in the conference room of my chambers. I thought him oddly sinister, but perhaps my opinion was colored by what I had heard.”