Page 67 of Distant Thunder


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Later, Stone followed Vanessa up and down Bond Street where she deftly applied Stone’s credit card to the stripping of half a dozen shops. They sent the boxes and bags back to the Connaught, where the concierge sent them up to their suite.


That evening, theyhad a drink in the hotel’s American Bar, then strolled over to Harry’s Bar, a restaurant a couple of blocks away, for dinner. They had Blinis, then ordered. Their first course had just been set before them when a man and a woman were seated at a table directly across the room from them. Stone thought the man looked familiar, but, he recalled, half the people in the world seemed to look familiar.

They were having their main course when the penny dropped in Stone’s head.

“What’s wrong?” Vanessa asked.

“Nothing,” Stone said, reaching for his cell phone.

“Yes?” Lance said.

“It’s Stone.”

“And how is Harry’s Bar?”

“As ever, except for one detail.”

“What is that?”

“A man I believe to be Valery Majorov has been seated, along with a woman, at a table in front of us across the room.”

“Are you certain?”

“No, since I’ve only seen the man once, a couple of years ago in Paris.”

“Where are you in your dinner?”

“Our main course was just delivered.”

“Finish it, sign your bill, then follow the headwaiter, whowill take you to a rear door of the restaurant. You’ll find yourselves in a garden.”

“I know the place.”

“Can you find your way back to the Connaught from there?”

“Yes.”

“Keep it as casual as you can. Walk, don’t run.”

“Right.” Stone hung up.

“Did you say that the man directly across from us is Valery Majorov?”

“Yes. Don’t look at him. You’ll turn to stone.”

“I’ve already looked at him once, and I don’t want a second glimpse.”

“Then just look into my eyes,” Stone said.

“Are you packing?”

“Yes,” Stone replied.

“I’m so glad.”

“Relax, Lance has given us exit instructions. Eat your dinner.”

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