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“Someone recommended me to Lance.”
“Who?”
“Lance wouldn’t tell me.”
“You can ask him tonight,” Stone said.
“I might just do that, if I can corner him for a minute.”
“Cornering Lance is hard work,” Stone said.
34
Felicity and herguests arrived on time, being driven up from Stone’s dock in a golf cart that was manned by a staffer.
Stone and Vanessa received them in the library and introductions were made.
Sir John Parker and his wife, Hillary, were a bit younger and more attractive than Stone had expected. He recalled that, not long before, Felicity had been in bad odor with the Conservative Party and thus with Sir John, but all seemed well now. And Felicity, apparently, more fragrant. Stone was not surprised that Felicity, who looked and was dressed gorgeously, had surreptitiously inspected Vanessa during the introductions and was impressed. Stone liked the idea of the two of them in bed with him.
Geoffrey, the butler, tended bar and filled orders, and finally, they were seated before the fireplace, with a cheery blaze going.
“Has the rain stopped?” Stone asked nobody in particular.
“It has,” Sir John replied, “and according to the radar, for the evening.”
“So you won’t get wet either coming or going,” Stone said. They continued in that vein until Lance Cabot joined them. He already knew everyone present.
“Ah, the widow Collins,” he said to Vanessa.
“No, the divorcée Morgan,” she replied. “I had begun the process before John was dead. We had nearly reached a property settlement, and so after he was resurrected, I allowed it to play out to the end.”
“Clever girl,” Lance said, careful to say it so that the others didn’t hear. Stone read his lips.
“Good evening, Lance,” Stone said.
“Ah, Stone! So good to find you hale and hearty. Any problems?”
“I thought you might know better than I.”
“I noted that the front lights of the house were ablaze.”
“They are on a timer and were ablaze the night before last, too, if anyone was interested.”
“I parked my rental behind the house, so nothing will seem amiss to the casual observer.”
“I’ll avoid turning on the strobes and playing loud music,” Stone said.
“Good idea.”
“Stone,” Sir John said, “the ministry is still buzzing with the tale of you driving Dame Felicity’s brand-new Aston Martin into a river.”
“I’m afraid that what you’ve heard is only the half of it.”
“Details, please. I have much curiosity to satisfy back at Whitehall.”
“Well, the ostensible reason for my being there was to drive the car back to Beaulieu for her, and someone there had suggested we do some timed driving around the place. I was doing quite well as I approached the river, when the car suddenly commanded itself to make a sharp turn to the right, driving us both off the bridge and into the river, finishing upside down, underwater.”
“My goodness, what could have caused that?”
