50
Stone and Meg had just finished lunch when the butler came into the room. “Excuse me, Mr. Barrington,” he said, “but one of the security detail would like to speak with you at the front door.”
“Please bring him in here,” Stone replied.
A man Stone recognized came into the room. “Good afternoon, Mr. Barrington.”
“It’s Carl Atkins, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. I have some rather unwelcome news for you, I’m afraid.”
“And what is that?”
“The gentleman you’re concerned about, Mr. Owaki?”
“Yes?”
“I’m very much afraid that he’s a guest next door.”
Stone turned to Meg. “Next door means a larger country house—much larger than this one—that the Arrington Group turned into a country hotel.”
“And it’s next door?”
“Yes.”
“In the circumstances,” Atkins said, “we feel strongly that you and Ms. Harmon should not appear outdoors on the front side of the house, as Mr. Owaki will certainly have his own security, and you might be spotted.”
“How about the back side of the house?” Stone asked.
“That should be quite safe.”
“Thank you, Carl, we’ll heed your warning.”
“Have a good afternoon, sir.” Atkins departed.
“I suppose I was wrong about Owaki being five miles away,” Stone said. “It’s more like a quarter of a mile.”
“Swell,” Meg said.
“Would you like a walk in the garden? That’s at the rear of the house.” He pointed.
“Very much,” she said.
They left the house through the rear entrance and walked into the garden, while Meg explained the species to Stone, who had no idea. Then they walked into the stable yard and had a look at the four horses there.
“May we ride?” Meg asked.
“Do you ride?”
“When I’m permitted to.”
“I’m afraid our only trail passes within a few yards of the house next door.”
“I should have known. In that case, I think I’ll spend the afternoon in your library with a good book.”
“What a good idea. Remember, drinks at six-thirty.”
“I’ll be there, suitably attired.”
Stone was in the library at six, dressed in a blue suit and a tie, remembering that Dame Felicity was often early. At six-twenty, the butler announced her, and as soon as the door closed behind her she enveloped Stone in a hug and allowed herself to be kissed on both cheeks.
“I won’t ask how you are,” Stone said, “because it’s perfectly obvious.”
“You, too, darling,” she said. She was dressed in a clinging cocktail dress of green, which set off her red hair.
“What would you like to drink?”
“A martini, please.”
Stone went to the paneled bar and mixed the drink, then poured himself a bourbon. They settled into chairs beside the fireplace.
“I noted the presence of security at the dock and at the house,” Felicity said. “May I know why?”
“You may,” Stone said. He took five minutes to apprise her of the situation.
“Owaki is a nasty piece of work,” Felicity said, “in spite of his oleaginous charm. I knew he was in the country, of course, and now I know why.”
“I don’t think he came in search of us.”
“No, it’s his factory, and now I know why he bought it.”
“I don’t suppose you could find an excuse to have him thrown out of the country,” Stone said.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she replied.
Meg was ushered in by the butler, and Stone introduced her to Felicity, who looked her up and down appraisingly. She was wearing a red sheath dress, and Felicity obviously approved. He made Meg a martini and Felicity a second one, then they gathered at the fireplace.
“I understand you are in the intelligence trade,” Meg said to her.
“I’m very much afraid that I can neither affirm nor deny that,” Felicity replied. “I understand that you are receiving the attention of nefarious characters.”
“I can affirm that,” Meg replied. “Can you have people shot?”
“Not in my own neighborhood, I fear,” Felicity replied. “I’m just across the river, you know.”
“I have heard,” Meg replied.
“I don’t know why Stone couldn’t handle something like that himself,” Felicity said. “There’s a very good deer rifle from Holland & Holland right over there in his gun cabinet.” She nodded toward it.
“Not in my own neighborhood,” Stone said.
“Perhaps I should do it myself,” Meg said. “I’m a very good shot.”
“I would certainly have no objection,” Felicity said, “but I can’t speak for Her Majesty’s Government, who might take exception—in the nicest possible way, of course.”
“Of course,” Stone said.
“I could, perhaps, put in a word with the home secretary before your sentencing, though.”
“How kind of you,” Meg replied, and they all laughed.
DINNER WAS a country pâté and pheasant from the estate, accompanied by a bottle of outstanding old claret from Windward Hall’s cellar, followed by Stilton and a vintage port.
Stone was pleased to see that the two women got on famously, and Felicity had been a perfect lady.
“Now then,” Felicity said over her second glass of port, “we must do something about your situation. I think it’s appalling that you can’t even take a walk or go for a gallop.”
“What can be done?” Stone asked.
“The insufferable Mr. Owaki believes himself to be untouchable,” she said, “and I always enjoy upsetting the carts of the insufferable. Perhaps his new factory hasn’t been subjected to the proper level of inspection by various departments of the county council.”
“Since Owaki is a new employer in the district,” Stone said, “I doubt if they would wish to make him uncomfortable.”
“Still, he isn’t actually building anything yet, is he?”
“The county newspaper says he is continuing to build the sports cars for which his factory is famous.”
“And losing ten thousand pounds on every one,” Felicity replied. “That’s why he was able to buy the concern cheaply. I think you’re already doing the thing that will hurt him most—depriving him of the designs of what he would really like to build.”
“You know, my board has discussed the possibility of manufacturing on this side of the pond,” Meg said.
Stone smiled. “Perhaps they would vote to make Mr. Owaki an insultingly low offer for the place.”
“That would be very satisfying,” Meg said.
Felicity spoke up. “I could put you in touch with a British intermediary who would keep the source of the offer a dark secret.”
“I’ll make some calls tomorrow,” Meg said.