by Stuart Woods
“All Hinckley motorboats have jet drives,” Chris told her. “There’s no propeller and no rudder. The JetStick controls a computer that controls both jet drives and a bow thruster, so if you want to go ahead, you push the stick forward. If you want to go aft, you push it backward, and if you want to go sideways, you push it sideways, which is very handy for docking.”
They both tried docking the boat and found it easy.
“And you can spin the boat on her own axis, by twisting the JetStick.” Chris demonstrated.
They took the boat down the river and Chris demonstrated the electric anchoring process, then they had lunch.
At five, they returned Felicity to her dock, then practiced more docking at Windward. Then Stone had the two Hinckley men driven to their inn, and arranged a pickup time for the following day.
“I think one more day of training will do it for me,” Stone said. “It’s similar enough to my old Hinckley Picnic Boat.”
“Good, then we’ll have a day or two to see some of England,” Chris said.
Stone and Gala returned to Windward Hall for dinner.
They were having drinks in the library when Geoffrey entered the room. “There’s a call for Ms. Wilde,” he said.
“That’s odd,” Gala said. “Who’s calling?”
“He wouldn’t say, but the gentleman did have a foreign accent.”
Stone and Gala exchanged a glance. “Geoffrey, tell the gentleman that there is no Ms. Wilde here, nor will there be, and ask him not to phone again.”
Geoffrey left to deliver the message. “Thank you, Stone. I can’t imagine how he got this number.”
“The house is listed in the phone book. What I can’t imagine is how he learned where I live.”
“Boris has been known to employ private detectives to get information on the people he does business with. It would not shock me to learn that he uses them in London, as well.”
Geoffrey returned to refresh their drinks.
“How did the gentleman take it, Geoffrey?” Stone asked.
“Poorly, sir. I had finally to hang up on him.”
“If he calls back, just tell him to go away.”
“With pleasure, sir. Dinner will be served in about twenty minutes.”
“If Boris persists, I’m going to have to find a way to deal with him,” Stone said.
“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“He seems to be pathological about you.”
“I don’t think that’s too strong a term, but I don’t think you can have him committed.”
“And it would be a lot of trouble to kill him. Still . . .”
Gala laughed. “Don’t be tempted.”
“I’ll try to restrain myself.”
Stone’s cell phone rang. “Hello?”
“Mr. Barrington?”
“Yes?”
“This is Jefferson Bramble. I’m the delivery pilot for your airplane.”
“Where are you?”
“I’ve made landfall, and I’m about an hour out of your airfield.”
“Fly the published approach into my strip, and I’ll have customs meet you, and someone to drive you wherever you need to go.”
“Just to the nearest railroad station. I’ll get a train to London. I have a hotel reservation there.”
“Thank you, Jefferson.” They hung up as Geoffrey entered with dinner.
“Geoffrey, my airplane is landing in an hour. Will you phone the customs people and inform them, then have the pilot driven to the station after he’s cleared with the local officials?”
“Certainly, sir. Customs are getting accustomed to visiting your airfield.”
“Good.” They sat down to dinner.
—
An hour later, as they were on coffee, the door to the library opened, and Dino walked in.
“Good evening,” he said.
“Good God! You didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“I hitched a ride on your airplane—Joan arranged it for me. I’ll fly down to Rome with you for the opening of the Arrington.”
“Sit down and have some dinner.” Geoffrey was ready for him.
“You must be tired,” Stone said.
“Well, it wasn’t the same as traveling on a G650.” He sat down, and Stone poured him a glass of wine. When he was finished, Geoffrey took him upstairs and got him quartered.
Stone and Gala soon followed.
17
The following morning they met downstairs for breakfast. “We have a choice for you,” Stone said to Dino. “You can come out with us on my new boat—I’m still in training—or you can sit on your ass all day.”
“I did enough of that yesterday,” Dino said. “I’ll take the boat.”
Chris and Dustin were waiting for them, and they did a quick review of checking fluids and the starting procedure, then they cast off and started downriver with Gala at the helm and Dino watching her like a hawk. As they neared the mouth of the river another boat passed them, going in the opposite direction. Gala ducked and asked Dino to take the helm, and they exchanged seats.
“Something wrong?” Stone asked.
“That other boat—there were two men on it, and I know one of them.”
“Who is he?”
“His name is Kharzy, big fellow with a bald head. He sometimes works for Boris.”
“Did you see Boris aboard?”
“I saw the back of one other man, but I don’t think it was Boris. If he’s aboard, he must be below.”
Stone moved her to a cabin seat then took the seat next to Dino. “Are you armed?” he asked.
“Always,” Dino replied. “Shall I stand by to repel boarders?”
“I don’t know if they saw Gala. Let’s see if they turn around.” Stone watched as the boat continued up the river. He got out his cell phone.
“Good morning, Windward Hall.”
“Geoffrey, it’s Mr. Barrington. There is a boat headed upriver that may contain the gentleman who called last night. Please go down to the dock and refuse them permission to land. If they attempt to land, call the police and tell them we have intruders who are making a nuisance of themselves.”
“Right away, sir.”
“Please keep me posted on the outcome.”
“Certainly, sir.” They both hung up.
“Now, let’s get out of here, so that when they come back we’ll already be in Cowes.” He shoved the throttles forward, and they were soon doing thirty knots up the Solent. When they were out of sight of the Beaulieu River, Stone got out his phone and called the yacht club.
“Good morning, Royal Yacht Squadron.”
“Good morning, this is Stone Barrington. I’m a new member.”
“Of course, Mr. Barrington, we’re looking forward to seeing you at the Castle.”
“I’m motoring on the Solent at the moment, headed your way. May I book lunch for five people, dressed in sailing clothes?”
“Of course, sir. We’ll be serving in the pavilion, behind the Castle.”
“Half an hour?”
“Very good, sir.”
“May we dock at the Squadron Marina?”
“Of course, sir. I’ll let the dockmaster know. What size yacht are you?”
“A forty-three-foot motor yacht, beam is fourteen feet six inches, and we draw twenty-eight inches. Her name is Indian Summer.”
“Very good, sir. We’ll see you soon.”
Stone slowed as they approached the Castle and pulled into the marina. A boatman was waiting to take their lines, and they were soon made fast.
“Now I see why you’re wearing that ridiculous cap,” Dino said, as they walked ashore, through the gates, and up to the pavilion at the top of the lawn.
—
They had a good lunch, then St
one, Dino, and Gala walked over to the Squadron jeweler, Benzie’s, while the Hinckley men made the boat ready for departure. Once there, Stone bought a Squadron tie pin, and he bought Gala a ladies’ burgee pin.
Back on the boat, Stone tried a few maneuvers inside the small marina for practice, then they departed the harbor and headed back down the Solent toward the mouth of the Beaulieu River. Stone’s phone rang.
“Yes?”
“It’s Geoffrey, sir. Your call was very timely. The boat attempted a landing, but I refused their lines and waved them off. A police car arrived at that moment, and an officer explained to them that the dock was private property and did not welcome uninvited guests.”
“How many were aboard?”
“Three, sir. One of them sounded very much like the gentleman on the phone last evening.”
“What happened then?”
“They crossed the river and attempted to tie up at Dame Felicity’s dock. They were greeted there by two of her security staff bearing automatic weapons and were rebuffed. They then continued upriver a bit too far and ran aground on a falling tide. The harbormaster pulled them off the mud, and they headed back downriver.”
“That’s all fine, Geoffrey. Thank you for handling it so well.”
Shortly they turned into the Beaulieu and were careful to follow the channel upriver. Halfway to the Windward dock, Stone asked Gala to go below. She did so, and they passed the boat they had seen earlier, now headed back to the Solent, with two men in sight. Boris had apparently gone below. Stone ignored the waves of the big bald man and his cohort, and he recognized the bald man as one of those who had accosted him at the Bel-Air Country Club.
When the boat was out of sight, Stone called Gala back to the cockpit. “The coast is now clear, and so is the river.”
“Did you get a good look at them?”
“Two of them. I knew one. I believe Boris may have been below. Geoffrey said that the third man sounded like the man on the phone last night. They got a somewhat hotter reception at Felicity’s dock. Clearly, they didn’t know on whose property they were about to trespass, and they were greeted by armed guards.” He explained to Chris and Dustin. “The property across the river is owned by the head of MI6, the British foreign intelligence agency, whose members do not suffer fools gladly.”
—
They tied up at the Windward dock, and tidied up the boat. Then Chris and Dustin presented the paperwork for British registration of the yacht and an acceptance document for the boat. “All the safety equipment required by the British is aboard, and the boat is fully legal here,” Dustin said, handing him a card. “Should you need parts or service of any kind, call these people, who are aware of your boat.”
Geoffrey came down to drive them back to the house and gave Stone a package. “Dame Felicity sent this to you by messenger,” he said.
Stone opened it to find a Squadron white burgee and a British white ensign, which could be flown only by Royal Navy vessels and members of the Royal Yacht Squadron.
“But I’m an American,” he said to Geoffrey. “I can’t fly this ensign.”
“Dame Felicity says that if the yacht is British-registered, an American member may fly the white ensign.”
Stone rigged both flags on their staffs and left them below for future use.
A cheerful fire awaited them in the library, and they had drinks before dressing for dinner.
18
Over dinner, Stone brought Dino up to date on the problems with Boris Tirov.
“What do you suggest?” Stone asked.
“Suggest? I’m out of my jurisdiction. What’s the name of that police inspector you dealt with last year after the murder? Sherlock something?”
“Deputy Chief Inspector Holmes,” Stone replied. “No Sherlock.”
“Why don’t you give him a call?”
“Good idea,” Stone replied. “I’ll ring him in the morning.”
“When do we head for Rome?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. The celebration isn’t until the day after.”
“Are we staying at the Arrington?”
“Yep.”
“What do the celebrations consist of?”
“A big cocktail party, followed by a dinner for as many people as can be squeezed into the dining room.”
“Who are the guests?”
“I’ve left that up to Marcel duBois, so I have no idea. I imagine they’ll be pretty, though.”
“It’s a good thing I went shopping in London,” Gala said. “I found the perfect dress at Harvey Nicks.”
“Perfect is good enough for me,” Stone said.
—
After dinner, Geoffrey announced a phone call from Dame Felicity for Stone.
“Good evening.”
“Good evening. What the hell is going on down there? I’ve heard there was a disturbance at my dock today.”
“I didn’t witness the event, but Geoffrey tells me that weapons were brandished by your people, but no shots were fired by anyone.”
“Who were the would-be intruders?”
“One of them we believe to be Gala’s ex-husband.”
“Is he mad?”
“Very possibly. He’s certainly unbalanced, and he has some unsavory Russian connections.”
“What a delightful combination of personal traits. If there’s a next time, I’ll tell my people to fire at will.”
“Please wait until I’m in Rome, which will occur tomorrow evening.”
“How long will you be away?”
“A couple of days, I guess. It’s the grand opening of the new Arrington.”
“Ah.”
“Yes. Would you like to come along?”
“Love to, but events in the Muddle East demand my attention. I expect to have all that solved by the weekend, though, so perhaps I’ll come down and see you and Gala?”
Stone felt a stirring at the thought. “Hold on.” He covered the phone. “Gala, would you like to see Felicity this weekend?”
Gala managed a warm smile. “Of course.”
“Saturday is good, Felicity.”
“Your place or mine?”
“Windward Hall.”
“Sevenish?”
“Perfect. I’ll be sure and let you know if we’re detained in Rome.”
“You’d better. Bye-bye.” They hung up.
“How is the old girl?” Dino asked.
“As ever. Sorry, I forgot to send your regards.”
“What’s keeping her busy?”
“What she calls the Muddle East, but she plans to solve all that by the weekend.”
“Good luck to her.”
“I’ll tell her you said so.”
They adjourned to the fireplace for brandy.
“You know,” Dino said, “this is my favorite house of yours.”
“Then you must come more often. There’s nothing like an English summer.”
“I’ve heard that.”
“Perhaps you should just toss in the New York towel and retire here.”
“That’s a damned fine idea, but I’m not sure Viv is ready for retirement. She’s up for chief operating officer of Strategic Services soon, and she’ll be making a ton of money.”
“Maybe she could do the job out of London, or even out of here. We’ve still got the offices downstairs that the kids used when they were shooting their movie here last year.”
“I like the way you think. All she needs is a video and Internet connection. You can run anything from anywhere these days.”
“Take it up with her.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Would you like me to nudge Mike in that direction? I sometimes think he’d rather not spend all that much time in New York.”
“Not yet. Let me broach the subject with m
y better half, see how it flies.”
“You do that.”
“How about you? Are you ready to spend more time here and less in New York?”
“I’m not sure how I’d like an English winter. I’m told it rains.”
“Can’t be any worse than a New York winter. It snows.”
“You have a point.”
“Let’s both cogitate.”
“Agreed.”
—
Later that night, Stone and Gala were canoodling in bed.
“Are you ready for another encounter with Felicity?” he asked.
“I will be by Saturday,” she said. “Right now I’m more content with you.”
“How much of your sex life have you spent in bed with other women?”
“That sounds like a polite way of asking if I’m a lesbian.”
“I don’t think that, you’re too happy in bed with me.”
“Well, the answer to your question is a tiny percentage, perhaps half a dozen occasions, starting in college. I’m very particular about whom I sleep with, regardless of gender, and generally speaking, I’ve found a great many more qualified males than females. Does my occasional attraction to women disturb you?”
“No, I can perfectly understand how someone could be attracted to women.”
She laughed. “But not to men?”
“That’s much more difficult to understand.”
“I’ll grant you that,” she replied, then returned her attention to arousing him.
19
The following morning Stone rang Hampshire police headquarters and asked for Deputy Chief Inspector Holmes. He was first informed that the gentleman was now chief inspector, then connected. He invited Holmes to lunch that day, and his invitation was accepted.
Stone recalled that Holmes appreciated old sherry, and he found a very good example of a dry Oloroso in Windward’s cellar and asked the cook to order Dover sole. When Holmes arrived he was plied first with the sherry, then with the sole and a bread pudding.
Having sufficiently relaxed his guest, Stone got to the point. “Chief Inspector, I have a problem to which I hope you can suggest a solution.”
