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Herbie stopped by their table. “Hey, Stone. Hey, Dino. I’d like you to meet Stephanie Gunn, with two n’s. Stephanie, this is Stone Barrington and Dino Bacchetti.”
“How do you do, Stephanie,” Stone said.
“I’m very well, thank you. And you?”
“Very well. So is he.” He nodded toward Dino.
“Can’t he speak for himself?” she asked.
“I’m very well, thank you,” Dino said.
“See?” Stone said. “Fully functioning person.”
“I’m relieved to hear it,” Stephanie said. “I believe I’ve heard Herbert mention your name, but not Mr. Bacchetti’s.”
“Dino is hardly ever mentioned by people who know him,” Stone said.
Stephanie laughed.
“Well,” Herbie said, “if you’ll excuse us.” He led the girl toward their waiting table.
“What’s wrong with this picture?” Stone asked.
“Well, both Herbie and his girlfriend sounded uncharacteristically normal,” Dino replied.
“That’s it: I’m unaccustomed to that. Maybe Herbie has entered another lucid interval. If so, that’s twice it’s happened.”
“That’s a record for Herbie,” Dino said. “Do you suppose that having his girlfriend jump off his penthouse terrace to her death has somehow matured him?”
“There were signs of maturation before,” Stone replied. “Like when he asked Sheila to sign a prenup.”
“I agree, that’s unusually sensible of him,” Dino said. “Have you talked with Bob Cantor about this?”
“No, Herbie’s uncle Bob wouldn’t believe me if I told him.”
They ordered dinner and were halfway through when Felicity showed up, sat down and ordered a single-malt Scotch on the rocks.
“No Rob Roy?” Dino asked.
“Not tonight,” she replied, taking a swig of the pungent liquid. “I need to go directly to the source, without the sugar and fruit.”
“I know the feeling,” Dino said.
“You look perplexed,” Stone said.
“I think that sums up my mood very nicely,” Felicity replied, “at least, until I finish this drink and start another one.”
“What is driving you to drink?” Stone asked.
“I’ve been back and forth with my documents people for the past four hours. They’ve found the photograph of Hackett that was on the file I sent them but not on his own folder; it was affixed to the dossier of one Timothy Timmons, another soldier in the regiment.”
“That’s a familiar name,” Stone said.
“Oh? How?”
“Hackett told me that he had a friend called Tim Timmons, who left the regiment before he did and went to work for a security company. He later persuaded Hackett to leave and join him there. Eventually they both left and formed their own company. Timmons was later killed in some sort of bomb blast, and Hackett got his share of their company.”
“That’s very interesting,” Felicity said, “since it’s all we?
