Стюарт Вудс - Foul Play

A click. “Hello there. Where are you these days?”

“In New York. I just got in from a few days on Martha’s Vineyard.”

“That sounds pleasant.”

“Believe me, it was mostly work.”

“Where are you for the next few days?”

“I’ll be in L.A. tomorrow. How about you?”

“I think it would be nice if I were in L.A., too,” she said. “I have a speech to make there, but I can tack on a couple of days without getting impeached, I think.”

“Then I will look forward to seeing you.”

“You will be alone, then?”

“I’ll have two male guests, clients.”

“Then we’ll meet at the guest cottage between the houses.”

“Perfect. Dinner tomorrow night, in the cottage?”

“Perfect, indeed. Looking forward.” She hung up.

Stone buzzed for Joan. “I’m off to L.A. in the morning. Let Faith know, so she can assemble a crew. We’ll need the G-500, wheels up at nine am. First stop, Martha’s Vineyard, next stop Burbank.”

“Done,” she said.

“Also, I’m going to need ten double rooms in the hotel for security people.”

“Your wish, etcetera, etcetera.” She hung up.

Stone called Mike Freeman back. “Okay, L.A. is on. I’ve booked ten double rooms for your people. Shep and Rod can stay at my house. We’ll pick them up at the Vineyard airport at ten am tomorrow. Let Doug know.”

“We’re going to need another airplane for my people and their equipment. I’ll get our L.A. office started on setting up communications today.”

“Okay, give me a few minutes to break the news to Shep.” They both hung up.

Stone messaged Shep: Call me back on a secure line.

A couple of minutes later, Shep was on the phone.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Not great. Have you had any problems there?”

“Not yet, but everybody is pretty tense.”

“Neither you nor Rod is safe at that location any longer, so we’re moving you both tomorrow. You can shut down that house. Doug will have you at the airport at ten am, where my Gulfstream will pick you up. I’ll be aboard.”

“This is a royal pain in the ass,” Shep said. “Where are we going?”

“I’m not going to tell you. You’ll know when you arrive. Don’t worry, the surroundings will be more pleasant there than they have been at your present location.”

“I’m not sure Dad is going to buy this.”

“Tell him the alternative is to be sedated and crated for shipment, and not to speak a word of this to the staff there or anyone else.”

“Oh, all right.”

“And keep your cell phones turned off. We don’t want you tracked.”

“I understand, but Dad won’t. He hates flying.”

“Tell him, if you must, that he will be aboard the most comfortable airplane on earth.”

“Is that true?”

“Almost.” Stone hung up.

Dino called. “Dinner tonight?”

“Sure.”

“P.J.’s at seven?”

“Done. I’m off again tomorrow. We have to relocate Shep and Rod.”

“Where?”

“Tell you later.” Stone hung up.

They were halfway to P. J. Clarke’s when Fred said, “Excuse me, sir. We’re being followed.”

“By what?”

“A van. Maybe another vehicle, as well.”

“Shit,” Stone said.

Dino was already at the table when he arrived. “Tell your people I was followed here.”

“You want your tail rousted?”

“That would be very satisfying. There’s a van and maybe one other vehicle.”

Dino spoke a few lines into his phone, then hung up. “They’re about to get a lesson in NYPD etiquette.”

A drink was brought for Stone, and menus.

“So, now can you tell me where you’re off to?”

Stone drew invisible letters on the tablecloth.

“Gotcha.”

“Want to go along?”

“Can’t do it. I’m getting ragged about my Vineyard tan, this time by the mayor. I need to be seen at my desk, even if others are doing the work.”

“I can appreciate your need to be seen hard at work,” Stone said.

One of Dino’s men came to the table. “We have a van and an SUV and four men in custody. What do you want them charged with?”

“I’m sure they’ve violated some traffic ordinance or other,” Dino said. “Just see that they’re housed overnight. No phone calls.”

“If you can hold them until, say, noon tomorrow,” Stone said, “that would be very helpful.”

“The NYPD is all about helpful,” Dino said.

Dino called Stone early. “I’ll have my detail pick you up at eight am,” he said. “The Bentley attracts too much attention.”

“Three police cops with flashing lights and whoopers don’t attract attention?”

“They’ll think it’s me,” Dino said. “We’ve had a dozen calls overnight from Kronk or his lawyers. He’s steamed; you oughta know that.”

“I’ll write it down,” Stone said. He went back to his packing, which was light; he had clothes in L.A.

They pulled into the Strategic Services hangar at eight-thirty, and they had used the whoopers only twice. Stone took Faith, his pilot, aside. “I want the satphones shut down now. No outgoing calls, unless I say so. Also, have the stewardess collect everybody’s cell phones, including mine.” He boarded and buckled in.

They set down in the Vineyard shortly before ten, and taxied to a little-used area of the ramp, where a large van unloaded the crowd from the Troutmans’ Vineyard house. They were rolling down the runway at ten o’clock.

“Now can you tell us where we’re going?” Shep asked.

“Not until she’s done,” Stone said, pointing to the stewardess, who was collecting phones in a basket and labeling them. Stone gave her his phone. “Yours and Rod’s, too,” he said to Shep, who grumbled, but gave them up. “Can I use the satphone?”

“It’s out of service,” Stone replied.

“For how long?”

“Until I say so.”

“We appear to be headed west.”

“Good guess, Shep.”

“How far west?”

“We refueled on the Vineyard, so we have the range for Hawaii.”

“Jesus!”

“Also, Vancouver, San Francisco, L.A., San Diego, or Puerto Vallarta. Take your pick.”

“A tracker could look us up on the FlightAware website.”

“We don’t appear there. Also, the pilot filed for St. Louis but will change our destination with ATC en route.”

“How will I pass the time?” Shep asked.

“Books, magazines, a movie, or my favorite, sleep. Rod has already taken that suggestion.” He nodded at the sleeping elder Troutman across the aisle, with a cashmere blanket tucked up to his chin and his seat reclined.

“If he’s out like that,” Shep said, “this must truly be the most comfortable airplane on the planet.” In ten minutes, he was asleep. He didn’t wake up until the landing gear came down.

“Where are we?”

“Welcome to Honolulu,” Stone said. “You’ll get your phone back when we reach our lodgings.” Hawaiian music played softly over the sound system. They got into a Mercedes van and were driven directly to Stone’s house on the Arrington Hotel property.

“I’m confused,” Shep said, looking around.

“Good. Imagine how Mr. Kronk must feel. You and your dad are in the downstairs bedrooms next to the library. Our luggage will be along shortly in another van.”

“May I have my phone back now, please?” Shep asked.

“No. It’s important that no one in our party makes a cell call until certain electronic details are taken care of that will make all our calls appear to be originating in New York. Give it an hour. After that, log every call you make by number and minutes.”

“Okay, I’m impressed,” Shep said.