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“You almost certainly will.”
“Then you think they’ll lie in their report?”
“I’m sure they’ll do the right thing.”
“And who gets to determine what’s right?”
“I do,” Lance said, then hung up.
Stone buzzed Joan.
“Yes, sir?”
“Please bring me a copy of my contract with the CIA.”
16
Stone and Dinowere having dinner at Clarke’s when Lance entered the dining room and sat down at their table.
“Would you like to join us, Lance?” Stone asked.
“Thank you, I already have,” Lance replied, waving at a passing waiter and ordering a steak. “Would you like something?” Lance asked Stone.
“Thank you, we’ve already ordered.”
“I want to talk to you about the John Collins matter.”
“Is it all right if Dino listens in?”
“Dino has the same clearances as you,” Lance said.
“Granted, but I’m not sure he has the same tolerance for unadulterated horseshit,” Stone replied.
“Goddamn it, Stone,” Lance said, unusually profane, “you’re meddling in something that’s not your business!”
“Oh, really? A man, an employee of the federal government, leaves the island of my summer home, and boards or is dragged forcibly onto the local ferry, where he is beaten by likely two, probably three, men and forced to drink an entire bottle of vodka, then knocked unconscious and shot twice in the head. His body is abandoned there, later to be brought to and stored in my garage. Subsequently, I am able to discover, by the simple device of reading, that he is carrying a large sum of cash and has a seven-figure balance in an offshore bank and likely connections to the Russian mob. Please tell me how this is noteverybody’sbusiness.”
“Yeah,” Dino said. “I want to hear this.”
The waiter came and set Lance’s steak before him.
“Hey!” Dino yelled. “We ordered half an hour ago! Where areoursteaks?”
“We’re felling an ox now,” the waiter shouted back over his shoulder, then disappeared into the kitchen.
“He knows I’m in a hurry,” Lance said, sawing a chunk off his steak.
“Answer my question,” Stone said to Lance.
“Yeah,” Dino echoed. “Why isn’t iteverybody’sbusiness?”
Lance poured himself a glass of wine. “BecauseIdecide whose business it is, and I have decided that it is not yours.”
“Then why did you ask me to chair an investigation into the circumstances of his death?”
“I didn’t ask you to chair, just advise,” Lance said, making a large portion of a baked potato disappear. “And I realize that was a mistake because you chose that moment to be unhelpful.”
“You chose the moment. And you didn’t want the matter investigated, just buried.”
