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“Unless he turns out not to be John Collins.”
“Then a new mystery begins,” Dino said. “I love a mystery.”
22
When Stone gothome he walked into the house and heard someone clearing his throat. He went to the study and found Lance Cabot sitting on the sofa before a fire, a drink in his hand.
“All cozy, are we?”
“Come in, Stone.”
“Thank you so much,” Stone replied. He poured himself a brandy. “Something more for you?”
“I’m fine. Have a seat.”
“Thank you.” Stone sank into the other end of the sofa and took a sip of brandy. “You seem pensive, Lance. What’s going on?”
“I may have to kill John Collins.”
“Again? Wasn’t once enough?”
“Apparently not.”
Stone sat quietly and waited for Lance to explain.
“If you hear from him, you have to tell me.”
“Why?”
“Because if I’m going to kill him, I have to find him, and you, perhaps, might help.”
“Why do you think I would become involved in a murder?”
“If he’s already dead, it wouldn’t be murder, would it?”
“If he’s alive, it would be.”
“Have you heard from him?”
“Why would he get in touch with me?”
“He may be jealous. I mean, you are fucking his wife.”
“His widow. And any fucking we may have done was conducted on that basis.”
“I don’t think he sees it that way.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know about how he sees things.”
“Will you let me know if he contacts you?”
“I don’t think I will,” Stone said. “What you’ve told me could make me complicit in a murder.”
“Oh, don’t come over all legal on me.”
“It’s what I do. I have to live as I advise my clients. Tell me, what has he done to deserve being murdered?”
“He has disappointed me.”
