“All right, but Throckmorton never hears this, okay?”
“Are you kidding? I came over here to get you out of this, not to send you to Wormy Scrubbers.”
“Wormwood Scrubs.”
“Whatever.”
“All right, here’s how it went,” Stone said.
“You better start at the beginning, so we don’t have to go backwards.”
“All right; this guy showed up in my office, sent by Woodman and Weld.” Stone began to take Dino, blow by blow, through what had happened since he’d arrived in London. He got as far as the explosion at the antiques market when dinner arrived. The waiter served it and left.
When he had gone, Stone continued with the events at the Farm Street house. When he got to the dinner of the night before, he stopped, not wanting to talk about Sarah or Arrington.
“So,” Dino said, “how’s Sarah? How’s Arrington?”
“How did you know Arrington was here?”
“She called me a few days ago, said she was headed to London and how were you?”
“Why didn’t she call me?”
“I guess she did, and you weren’t there, so she called me. She’s buying an apartment in New York.”
“I heard.”
“So tell me about Sarah and Arrington, and how you’re keeping them both happy.”
Stone did the best he could.
“So Arrington is on her way to New York?”
“Right.”
“And Sarah is filthy rich, having knocked off her boyfriend?”
“She didn’t knock him off, it was an accident; I was there.”
“Sure, like Arrington didn’t knock off Vance Calder.”
“You don’t really think she did that, do you?”
“Nobody’s proved to me that she didn’t.”
“Dino, you’re a very suspicious person, do you know that?”
“It’s useful in my work; and if I weren’t a suspicious person, somebody would have knocked you off by now.”
“You’re probably right,” Stone admitted. Dino had gotten him out of the soup more than once.
“You know what I think?” Dino said, pushing back from the table.
“What?”
“I think I’m going to bed. I hear jet lag is a bitch if you don’t get any sleep.”
“So, you’re going to bed without having solved any of my problems?”
“You betcha.” He got up, went to the door of his room, and opened it. “I’ll do that tomorrow.” He closed the door.
“Christ, I wish somebody would,” Stone said.
Chapter 41
DINO WALKED INTO STONE’S ROOM AT 6:30 A.M., in his pajamas, whistling loudly. “Up and at ’em!” he shouted.
Stone groaned, rolled over, and pulled a pillow over his head.
“Don’t you want to brush your teeth before breakfast?” Dino asked, ripping the covers off Stone.
“No,” Stone replied, trying vainly to get the covers back.
“That’s disgusting,” Dino said. “You can’t eat breakfast without brushing your teeth; it’s unsanitary.”
Stone peeped out from under the pillow. “What breakfast? I haven’t ordered breakfast.”
There was a sharp rap on the door.
“That breakfast,” Dino said, opening the door and admitting the waiter.
Stone went and brushed his teeth; when he returned, an elaborate breakfast had been laid out.
Dino handed him a large glass of orange juice. “Come on, wake up.”
Stone took the orange juice. “This must be what it’s like to be married.”
“Are you kidding?” Dino asked. “The day you get married is the last day you’ll ever get breakfast in bed.”
“I’m not in bed,” Stone said, sipping the orange juice.
“Close enough. What’s your plan for the day?”
“I’m planning for you to solve all my problems,” Stone said.
“Okay, I can do that. Not Arrington, of course, or Sarah; you’ll have to handle those yourself, though of course, I’ll be there with lots of advice.”
“I’d rather not hear it,” Stone said, digging into his scrambled eggs.
“Man, these are really terrific eggs,” Dino said. “How do they get them like this?”
“I asked about that,” Stone replied. “Seems they cook them very slowly, with a lot of butter, in a saucepan, not a skillet, and they serve them on a hot plate, very soft, since they continue to cook on the plate.”
“No kidding? I’ll have to get Mary Ann to do them that way.”
“Lots of luck. Your wife doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who would spend the early moments of her morning making you English scrambled eggs.”