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“Because a dead person can’t have such accounts.”
“I hadn’t counted on that.”
“Then you should have trusted her sooner than you did. I’ll leave the two of you to sort that out.”
Stefan, the headwaiter, turned up tableside to do his magic with the Caesar salad. They turned their attention to him.
24
They chatted amiablythrough dinner, and Stone rather liked the man. He tried to imagine him without the disguise and failed.
“Have you spoken to Lance recently?” Stone asked.
“Not since my death, though I sent him a message that he would know was authentic.”
“You might give him a call. He could smooth your way into a new identity.”
“I don’t feel that I need one.”
“You’ll just go on wearing the wig, then?”
“I don’t feel I’ll need that, either.”
“You think you’ll be done with the Russians soon, then?”
“Soon enough.”
“I’ve had some experience with them,” Stone said, “and I found them to be unreasonably tenacious.”
“And where did you encounter them? Or them, you?”
“In Los Angeles, New York, and Paris.”
“There must be rather a lot of them,” Collins said.
“They make it seem so. If you think you might need Lance, you should contact him sooner rather than later. He likes being needed, and he prefers information from the source rather than from rumor.”
“I suppose you’ve had some experience with Lance, then.”
“A good deal. When he’s in New York I find him in my home two or three times a week, and at my table whenever he’s hungry.”
“What is it about you that attracts him, do you think?”
“He likes my lifestyle better than his own.”
“I may have to go to ground for a while.”
“I understand you like Islesboro?”
“I do, very much.”
“I have a house there, if you want to stay out of sight for a while. After Labor Day, the island is practically deserted.”
“That’s a kind offer, and I may accept it.”
“Call me before you leave, so I can let the caretakers know you’re coming.”
“How many are there?”
