“Who would have thought the English could cook?”
“Someone, I think it was George Bernard Shaw, once said that you could eat very well in England, as long as you have breakfast three times a day.” Stone was waking up now.
Dino laughed. “I gotta remember that one.”
“Don’t bother; it isn’t true anymore; the Brits cook very well indeed these days. Okay, how are you going to solve all my problems?”
“I slept on your problems,” Dino said, “and I think you can best solve them by leaving London and going back to New York. That would remove you from the evil influence of the people around you in this town.”
“They aren’t all evil,” Stone replied.
“No? Name me one person you know in London that you can prove not to be evil.”
“They’re innocent until proven guilty,” Stone said.
“Only in a court of law; in the court of my law, every fucking one of them is guilty of something.”
“Demonstrate, please.”
“Okay, let’s take Bartholomew: Do you have any doubt that he’s an evil son of a bitch?”
Stone thought about it for a moment. “No,” he said, “none.”
“And you’re working for him. How about Lance?”
“Well, I think he may be mixed up in those two murders; and maybe a lot more, as well.”
“Same for Sarah, except it’s just one murder,” Dino said. “Who’s left?”
“Well, there’s Erica and Monica, the sisters.”
“Okay, I guess there have to be some innocent bystanders, but I’m not going to count on it.”
“And there’s Arrington.”
“Arrington doesn’t count; she’s not in London.”
“And Throckmorton.”
“Throckmorton wants you to spend the rest of your life in an English prison, where they don’t have toilets. How evil is that?”
“He doesn’t believe for a moment that I killed those two men.”
“He doesn’t care,” Dino said. “He just wants to clear these two killings; it doesn’t make him look good for bodies to turn up in his nice, green park. If he can blame you, he’s home free.”
Stone thought for a moment. “They don’t have toilets in English prisons?”
“No, they were all built before they had plumbing; you have to shit in a bucket and do God-knows-what with it.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“My very point; it’s why, among other reasons, you don’t want to go to jail over here.”
“So what is your solution to dealing with all this evil?”
“I told you: get out of town. You don’t owe these people anything.”
“I can’t; Throckmorton has my passport. Yesterday, when I tried to see Arrington at the airport, two of his goons dragged me out of the place.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Dino said. “If I can get your passport back, will you get out of here right away?”
Stone thought about that. “Maybe. But I have to admit, I’m pretty curious about what’s going on. You have any thoughts about that?”
“Let’s take these people one at a time, in reverse order of evilness,” Dino said. “Monica: She just has a business here, and she’s probably not involved. Erica: She may not be involved; she just wants to follow Lance around like a puppy, and she doesn’t give a fuck what he’s done or what he’s doing. Sarah: If there were any justice, she’d be shitting in a bucket in an English prison, instead of collecting a huge inheritance. Ali and Sheila: They’re in business with Lance, so they’re just as evil as he is. That leaves us with Lance and Hedger, who are so obviously evil that it’s hardly worth discussing.”
“I want to know what it is that Lance and Hedger actually do that’s so evil.”
“Well, Hedger, for a start, killed that retired cop Bobby Jones.”
“He just had him beaten up—not that that’s a good thing.”
“He’s dead,” Dino said. “Died of his injuries. Throckmorton told me on the phone; that’s one of the reasons he’s so pissed off with you.”
“Oh, God,” Stone moaned. “I didn’t know; nobody told me.”
“So that makes Hedger a murderer; Throckmorton wants him for Jones, but I get the impression that his investigation is being impeded by somebody in the British government.”
“You two had quite a little heart-to-heart, didn’t you?” Stone asked. “Why hasn’t he told me any of this? He’s certainly had the opportunity.”
“Because he doesn’t trust you, dummy; you work for Hedger, don’t you? He’d like to have Hedger shitting in a bucket somewhere and you for an accessory. Jones and his buddy Cricket were apparently two of Throckmorton’s favorite people.”