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“I wish I’d met you first,” he replied.
“Oh, so do I. He just becomes more and more of a pest. I wrote him a nice note, suggesting he go fuck himself.”
“Do you think he’ll get your point?”
“Perhaps not. He can be quite dense at times.”
A beep was heard, and a face appeared on the screen that covered the front door.
“Goodness,” she said. “You have a video of Bryce?”
“No, that’s from a camera, live, pointed at the outside of the front door.”
“Did he ring the bell?”
“No.”
“It seems he’s taken to following me,” she said. “I believe that is the last stage of stalking.”
Stone thought the last stage of stalking was homicide, but he didn’t mention that. “Let’s hope so. Would you like me to go out and speak to him?”
“Please don’t. He will certainly take a swing at you, and then the police would come, and we’d be late for dinner.”
The doorbell rang.
“Oh, no,” Sandy said.
Stone pressed a button. “Good evening,” he said. “Go away.”
“That would take care of most people,” Sandy said, “but not Bryce.”
Stone looked up to find Fred standing at the door.
“Ms. Beech, Fred Flicker, who is my driver and factotum.”
“How do you do, Ms. Beech? Mr. Barrington, would you like me to speak to the gentleman?”
“Thank you, Fred. Try not to hurt him.”
Fred disappeared.
“Hurt Bryce? That little man?”
“Don’t underestimate Fred.”
“I hope he doesn’t underestimate Bryce!”
“We’ll see,” Stone said, pressing another button on the screen that gave them a wider shot from another angle. He turned up the volume a little.
Fred opened the front door. “Good evening,” he said. “May I help you?”
“I want to see Stone Barrington,” Newcomb said.
“Mr. Barrington is not receiving callers,” Fred replied.
“Listen, Shorty,” Newcomb said, reaching out and taking Fred’s lapels. There was a flurry of motion, then Newcomb was on his knees, and Fred was holding him there by a wrist, which was bent.
“I hope you are receiving me loud and clear,” Fred said.“Otherwise, I shall have to break a bone, and who knows where that could lead?”
