The talk ranged through politics, sport, and the relationship between the English and the Americans. Stone noticed that Lord and Lady Wight, during this part of the conversation, seemed to feel that Lance was on their side of things, while Stone and Erica occupied the other. It was as Sarah had said; the Brits were very comfortable with Lance, considering him one of their own. Stone couldn’t figure out why.
Port was served with Stilton at the end of the meal, and Stone sipped warily from his glass, his hangover having only just disappeared. At some invisible signal, the ladies rose and left the room. Stone nearly went with them, but Lance signaled him to stay.
“Over here, the ladies go somewhere, and the gentlemen stick around for cigars,” Lance explained, lighting something Cuban.
Stone despised cigars—smoking them or smelling somebody else smoking them.
Wight did not light a cigar, but sniffed at Lance’s. “My doctor has taken me off them,” he said. “Bloody cruel, if you ask me.” He looked at a pocket watch from his waistcoat. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’m turning in early. My respects to the ladies.” He got up and left.
They sat quietly for a moment, Stone playing with his port, Lance puffing his cigar and staring at the windows, as if he could see through the thick drapes and out into the night.
“You asked me a strange question the other day,” he said finally. “I’d like to know why.”
“About Hedger?”
Lance nodded almost imperceptibly.
“I have a lot to tell you about that,” Stone said.
Lance waved the cigar, as if motioning him onward.
“Last week a man showed up in my office, recommended by Woodman and Weld, and introduced himself as John Bartholomew.”
Lance shot him a glance.
“I take it you understand the significance of that name,” Stone said.
Lance shrugged slightly.
“He told me that he was concerned about his favorite niece—his dead sister’s child—that she had run off to England with someone of whom he suspected evil things. He retained me to come over here and see if I could disentangle the girl from the clutches of this ogre. Normally, I wouldn’t take on such an assignment, but he had passed muster with Woodman and Weld, and they had urged me to help him, so I came.”
“And how did he expect you to deal with this ogre?” Lance asked, blowing smoke in Stone’s direction.
Stone waved it off with his napkin. “I told him up front that I would not participate in harming him, and that I would not kidnap his niece. He said he would be content if I could get the ogre put into jail.”
Lance laughed, choking on his cigar smoke. “And how did he expect you to do that?” he was finally able to ask.
“He told me that you were supporting yourself by smuggling drugs into Britain—on your person, no less. I had a police contact; when I confirmed Bartholomew’s charges, I intended to put him onto you.”
“And now that you have been unable to confirm this information, what are your intentions?”
“I have none. I resigned from Bartholomew’s employ yesterday.”
“Oh? Why, pray tell?”
“I discovered that he had been lying to me.”
“And how did you do that?”
“I hired two former policemen—one to follow Bartholomew—”
“I imagine that came to naught,” Lance chuckled.
“Not entirely. My policeman had his pocket picked; that’s how I learned that his name is Stanford Hedger.”
“I don’t imagine Stan took kindly to that.”
“He did not. Some of his acquaintances put one of my policemen in the hospital.”
Lance nodded sagely. “Figures. What about the other one?”
“Oh, he was assigned to follow you; actually, the two of them took turns. I had your phones tapped, too.”
Lance turned and looked at Stone for the first time. “You what?”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t learn anything. The conversations were very boring. Except for one, that is.”
“And what was that about?”
“Apparently, someone wants something from you, and you don’t want to supply it. I believe you threatened to kill anyone who pressed the issue.”
Lance was obviously thinking back over that conversation. “No names were mentioned, as I recall.”
“That’s correct.”
“So, having left Stan’s employ, you’re back at square one?”
“No, square one was in New York, and now I’m in England and rather enjoying myself. I’m simply a tourist now; I returned Hedger’s expense money to him, having deducted a sum for the benefit of the injured policeman.”