Class Act
- Автор: Вудс Стюарт
- Серия: Stone Barrington #58
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: G.P. Putnam's Sons
- ISBN: 978-0-593-33166-8
- Жанр: Триллеры
Электронная книга - «Class Act». Краткое содержание книги:
As Stone sets out to unravel a tangled web of crime and secrets, his mission becomes even more complicated when he makes an irresistible new acquaintance. In both the underbelly and upper echelons of New York, everyone has something to hide — and if Stone has learned anything, it’s that history has a way of repeating itself...
“Just checking in, everything all right? Like that. Then, casually, ask him if he’s told anyone where you are.”
“All right.” She dug her phone from her purse, dialed a number, pressed the speaker button, and set the phone on the coffee table.
“Tony speaking.”
“Hi, Tony, it’s Tara. How are you?”
“I thought you were on vacation in Paris.”
Tara started to correct him, but Stone waved both arms. “That’s right, I am. I just wanted to see if the new production is moving along.”
“It’s right where it’s supposed to be at this point,” Tony said, sounding exasperated.
“Tony: question for you.”
“Okay.”
“Remember, earlier today, when I called and told you where I am?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Have you mentioned that to anybody?”
“Yeah, I mentioned it to Mama. We talk a couple of times a day, and she likes to know what’s going on.”
“And you told her I was in Paris?”
“Yeah, I... Wait a minute, did I say Paris?”
“You tell me.”
“It was south of something. Did I say Paris?”
“Yes, you did.”
“Then that must be what I told her.”
“Do you think she might have told somebody else what you said?”
“She doesn’t talk to anybody but me— Oh, and her sister.”
“Is that the sister who is the mother of Salvatore?”
“Yeah, Sal. That piece of shit.”
Stone put his face in his hands and groaned.
“Why don’t you like Sal, Tony?”
“Well, I don’t dislike him. He’s just a piece of shit.”
“Is that what you call somebody you like?”
“Well, I don’t like him that much.”
“He clearly rubs you the wrong way.”
“He always has, since we were kids.”
“Do you speak to him often?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Are you likely to speak to him anytime soon?”
“Sometimes he brings his mother over to see my mother, and they have tea. That’s about the only time.”
“How often?”
“Usually on Friday.”
Stone winced.
“So they could be there today?”
“Probably.”
“Tony, I’d appreciate it if you’d do me a favor.”
“Sure, what’s that?”
“If you should see Sal or his mother, please don’t mention what I said to you about being where I am.”
“Why not?”
“Because Sal dislikes a man I know. He may even want to hurt him.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to be the guy Sal wants to hurt. He’s sort of in the hurt business, if you know what I mean.”
Stone shook his head and mouthed, Don’t ask.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if you want somebody’s legs broken or a throat cut, Sal always knows somebody who knows somebody, you know?”
“I do now. Please remember what I said about Sal, Tony.”
“Oh, I forgot. Sal won’t be here today. He went to London.”
Stone made beckoning motions and mouthed, Why?
“Why did Sal go to London?”
“He said he had to see a man about a dog.”
“Okay.”
“No, that’s wrong. He said he had a throat to cut.”
Stone gritted his teeth. He mouthed, Hang up.
“Do you know where he stays in London?”
“Yeah, in that hotel where Elizabeth Taylor and Eddie Fisher used to stay. The big one.”
“Gotta run, Tony. Take care.” Tara hung up.
“Where did Elizabeth Taylor and Eddie Fisher used to stay?” Stone asked.
Dino began typing on his iPhone with his thumbs. “The Dorchester,” he said. “They stayed there while she was making Cleopatra and screwing Richard Burton at the same time.”
“Is that what it says on Wikipedia?” Stone asked.
“It’s what they wanted to say,” Dino replied.
“How did I do?” Tara asked.
“Nice, how you ran with the Paris thing,” Dino said.
“Stone?”
“Yeah, the part about Paris worked. I hope.”
38
Finally, everyone went upstairs. Bob curled up in his bed beside the fireplace.
Tara seemed to like the master suite. “I like the master suite,” she said.
“I’m glad. It likes you, too.”
She came out of her dressing room wearing a black sheath nightgown.
“It likes you better without the nightgown,” he said.
She stopped at the bedside, shucked off the shoulder straps, and let it fall to the floor. “Like this?”
“Like that,” Stone said, pulling her to him and kissing her on the belly, then working his way down.
“Mmmm, I’m glad you like that,” Tara said, doing what she could to help him. “Tell me about Dame Felicity Devonshire,” she said.
Stone stopped what he was doing. “Now?”
“Oh, okay, let’s finish, then you can tell me about her.”
He finished, and she expressed approval and appropriate gratitude.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
“Now Dame Felicity. How old is she? Let’s start with that.”
“No one knows,” Stone said.
“I bet I could find out.”
“You might want to steer away from that inquiry. It’s probably covered by the Official Secrets Act.”
“And what is that?”
“It’s a document that about half the British population has signed, swearing not to reveal any Official Secrets. Violating it could get you sent to prison.”
“Do you know how old she is?”
“Probably, but for reasons just stated I cannot discuss the subject.”
“Is she younger or older than I? Is that an ‘Official Secret’?”
“Maybe not, but I can only guess.”
“Which?”
“It’s probably best to say that she is of an indeterminate age.”
“Ah. Older, then.”
“You said that, not I.”
“Is she beautiful?”
“Oh, yes. Nothing indeterminate about that.”
“Does she like men?”
“Certainly.”
“Does she like women?”
“Now, there we’re straying into Official Secrets territory again.”
“So she likes women, as well as men?”
“Why do you want to know? Are you aiming at seducing her?”
“I don’t know, yet. Would she object, if I did?”
“Probably not.”
“Would you object if I seduced her?”
“Not if I can watch.”
Tara laughed. “Wouldn’t you rather help?”
“It’s my nature to be helpful,” Stone replied.
“Does she work?”
“Oh, yes, ah... Do you mean does she have a job?”
“I do.”
“She works for the British government, in the Foreign Office.”
“What’s the Foreign Office?”
“It’s like our State Department. It conducts foreign affairs.”
“What does she do in the Foreign Office?”
“She holds an executive position.”
“Why are you trying so hard not to tell me what she does? Is it an Official Secret?”
“It used to be, until a newspaper printed the name of one of her predecessors. After that, there hardly seemed to be a point.”
“Then, if I can read it in a newspaper, you shouldn’t mind telling me.”
“All right, if we were living in a James Bond novel, she would be called ‘M.’ She is the director of MI-6, which is the foreign intelligence service.”
“Like our CIA?”
“Yes.”
“Is there an MI something else?”
“There’s MI-5, which is the domestic intelligence service, sort of like our FBI. “I don’t know if there are other MIs.”