Стюарт Вудс - Wild Card

“Later. Watch your ass,” Dino said, then hung up.

Stone welcomed Jamie back to New York, then, while Fred took her luggage up to the master suite, he made her a drink in the study.

“Is everything all right with you?” he asked, handing her the drink.

“I’ll know more about that after I’ve talked to this Rasheed,” she replied. They clinked glasses and drank. “Are you ready for me to call him?”

“Let’s wait a few minutes. Dino is on his way, and I want him to hear what this guy has to say.”

“All right, I suppose it’s better to have another witness.”

“What do you think this guy has on the Thomases?” he asked.

“Maybe the shooting of Joe Box?” she suggested. “By the way, one of our reporters has learned that he’s walking and talking.”

“Anything of any importance?”

“Not yet. He doesn’t know who shot him or why anyone would try. He let slip that the Thomases have been paying a speechwriter for him, though.”

“Now, why would they do that?” Stone asked.

“Maybe to offer some competition to the rest of the field?”

“That makes sense.”

“Sort of, but only if Hank is planning to run himself. We’ve heard that the Republican National Committee has been putting out feelers for him to come home.”

“And save them from Joe Box?”

She laughed. “Maybe the Thomases did too good a job of remaking Joe, and now they’re having second thoughts.”

Stone laughed. “That’s an amusing idea,” he said. “I expect that Joe is pretty much unhandleable. He could say or do anything.”

“And has,” Jamie echoed.

Dino had let himself into the house and now joined them in the study; he poured his own scotch. “Okay,” he said. “What now?”

“Now Jamie calls her new friend, Rasheed,” Stone said.

She got out some wiring and a microphone and plugged them into her throwaway. “Here we go,” she said.

They listened as the phone emitted a beep. “This is Jamie Cox,” she said. “It’s a little after seven, and I’m in a quiet place, ready to talk. Please call me on the following number.” She left the number, then hung up.

“Now what?” Dino asked.

“Now he’s supposed to call back,” Jamie said.

“See if you can get him to come here,” Dino said.

“Do you think he’s that dumb?” Stone asked.

“Maybe. It’s worth a try.”

“All right,” Jamie said, “if he gives me an opportunity, I’ll invite him.”

They chatted on for a few minutes, then the throwaway rang. Jamie held her hands up for silence, then picked up the phone. “This is Jamie.”

“And this is Rasheed,” he replied.

“Are you from the Middle East?” she asked.

“I am born in Paris, of an American father and an Algerian mother.”

“Where were you educated?” she asked.

“I was tutored. What you call homeschooled.”

“University?”

“Two years, in Paris.”

“How did you come to be in your current business?”

“I was recruited by a friend,” he said. “He’s now dead.”

“Have you lost a lot of friends in your business?”

“All of them,” he replied. “Which, in a way, is why I’m talking to you.”

“You must be very lonely.”

“I was, but not so much lately; I’ve met someone.”

“Girl? Guy?”

He paused before replying. “I am not a poofter,” he said firmly.

“Girl, then.”

“Yes, a very nice one.”

“Does that mean you are thinking of changing professions?”

“I am, as a matter of fact. I have one more job to do, then I’m a free man.”

“And what, or who , is the job?”

“I would rather not say. You will know soon enough.”

“Are you afraid I’ll turn you in?”

“You don’t have enough information to turn me in,” he replied smoothly. “And remember, you have no idea whether anything I’ve told you is true.”

“That is correct, but why would you establish contact with me, only to lie to me? I think you are telling the truth.”

“You are very perceptive.”

“You referred to a recent attempt on someone’s life: Could that have been Senator Joseph Box?”

“It could have been.”

“Why did you miss?”

“I didn’t miss. The glass deflected the round slightly, and he fell behind a desk where I couldn’t see him.”

“Did the Thomases hire you to assassinate Senator Box?”

“One of them did. I have dealt only with him.”

“Would that be Mr. Damien?”

“Again, you are very perceptive.”

“Did Damien ask you to kill Stone Barrington?”

“Perhaps. But he is safe.”

“Safe because you decided not to kill him?”

“Perhaps. I have talked too long now. Perhaps we will chat again sometime. Goodbye.”

“Wait...”

“Yes?”

“There are some friends I’d like you to meet. One of them is Stone Barrington.”

“Then the other must be his policeman friend, Mr. Bacchetti.”

“Now it’s you who are perceptive.”

“Perhaps some other day,” he said, then hung up.

“Okay,” Jamie said, “I gave it my best shot.”

“He’s very talkative,” Dino said, “but what did we learn?”

“Only what he wanted us to learn,” Stone said.

“Well,” Jamie said, “at least you’re off the griddle.”

“At least, that’s what he said,” Dino said. “True or not. Maybe he wants Stone to relax a little, so he’ll be an easier target.”

“You’re a real comfort, Dino,” Stone said.

“I’m just being realistic.”

“I believe him,” Jamie said.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. He just feels credible. I think that, in his way, he’s an honest man.”

“But still an assassin,” Stone said.

“Ah, yes,” Jamie replied. “He said he has one more job to do.”

“I wonder who that could be?” Stone asked.

Tim Tigner took his new girlfriend, Karen Landis, to dinner at the new Four Seasons restaurant.

“This is very special,” Karen said. “What’s the occasion?”

“I don’t know yet,” Tim replied, sipping his champagne and tasting his foie gras. “Perhaps you will make it special.”

“It’s up to me, is it?” She laughed. “This is some seduction.”

“Is it not polite these days to leave the decision to the woman?”

“I suppose that’s one way to do it,” she said. “Perhaps it’s not a bad idea.”

“Well?”

“I’ll let you know,” she said.

They continued through their lavish dinner and expensive wine.

“Well,” she said finally, “I’m off tomorrow.”

“May I take that as an acceptance?” Tim asked.

“You may,” she said.

His phone vibrated on his belt. “Will you excuse me for a moment?” he asked, then headed for the men’s room. “Yes?”

“Good evening, I hope I’m not disturbing your dinner.”

“Yes, you are, so please be brief.”

“We’d like the contract completed tomorrow, as early as possible.”

“I will, if I can,” Tim said.

“There’s one other thing we’d like, though I know it may not be possible.”

“What is that?”

“We — my senior partner, in particular — would like to have a word with Mr. B. before you are finished.”

“That’s bizarre.”

“Only if it’s manageable and doesn’t jeopardize the enterprise.”

“If it is, I’ll call you,” Tim said, then hung up. He went back to his table, nursing a new idea.

“I’m ready,” Karen said.

“Then we’re both ready,” Tim replied. He paid the bill, and they left.

The following morning, Tim awoke very early. Karen was snoring lightly next to him in bed. He got up, dressed in light clothing, then put on a gray jumpsuit over them. He went to his secret cache of weapons and supplies and chose a few things, tucked them into the commodious pockets of the jumpsuit, and went to the garage. He got the motorcycle started, put on his helmet, and drove downtown.