Lucid Intervals (2010)

trouble.”
    “Quite.”
    “Would you like some dinner?”
    “Yes, please. I couldn’t eat what they gave me at the Saudi UN embassy. I believe it was goat or something very like it.”
    Stone signaled for a menu, and she glanced at it.
    “Order for me, would you?”
    “You’re starved?”
    “Ravenous.”
    Stone turned to the waiter. “Bring her the osso buco with polenta and a bottle of the Chianti Classico,” Stone said to the waiter.
    “That’s goat, isn’t it?” Felicity asked. “Or something very like it?”
    “You know very well that it’s veal,” Stone said.
    “If you say so.”
    “Excuse me a minute,” Dino said, and then headed for the men’s room.
    “He’s being discreet,” Stone said. “He knows you want to talk to me about something.”
    Felicity polished off her Rob Roy. “I wish to engage you,” she said.
    “I’d be delighted,” Stone said.
    “Not in that capacity,” she said.
    “In my capacity as an attorney?”
    “In one or more of your capacities,” she replied, “although Her Majesty can’t compete with Mr. Fisher’s generosity.”
    “What did you have in mind?”
    “Well, we can do this one of two ways,” she replied. “At your hourly rate—two hundred dollars, isn’t it?”
    “Five hundred,” Stone replied.
    Felicity blinked.
    “Everything has gone up,” Stone said.
    “Apparently.”
    “What was the other way we could do this?”
    “I had in mind a more result-oriented arrangement,” Felicity said.
    “What sort of result, and what sort of arrangement?”
    “The result would be complete success, and the arrangement would be a payment of one hundred thousand dollars upon achieving it—to include all your expenses and any subcontractors you may require.”
    “And what is the assignment?”
    “The location and disposition of a weasel,” Felicity said.
    “Have you tried the pet shops?”
    “A weasel in the person of a disloyal former employee.”
    “More information, please. What do you mean by ‘disposition’?”
    “I mean putting him into my hands or those I may designate. You don’t have to kill him. I’m afraid that is all I can tell you until you have signed this,” she replied, removing a document from her briefcase.
    Stone looked at the title. “The Official Secrets Act?”
    “You read well.”
    “Doesn’t this apply only to British subjects?”
    “It applies to anyone who signs it,” she replied.
    “Pounds,” Stone said. “Not dollars.”
    Felicity uncapped a large fountain pen and handed it to Stone.
    “I assume this is filled with blood,” Stone said.
    “Yes, but not yours. Pounds, it is.”
    Stone signed the document. “All right, tell me about it.”
    Felicity’s osso buco arrived. “In the morning,” Felicity said, attacking the veal shank.

3
    F elicity put down her fork, having demolished her osso buco and most of the bottle of Chianti. “That was superb,” she said. “Now let’s go to your house.”
    “Delighted,” Stone replied. He had forgotten how blunt she could be.
    “Would you be delighted to have me as your guest for an indeterminate period?” she asked. “I’m not speaking of years or even months, perhaps a week or two.”
    “Absolutely delighted,” Stone said.
    “Then let’s be off,” Felicity said.
    As it turned out, “off” didn’t mean in a cab but in a large, somewhat elderly Rolls-Royce.
    “Nice ride,” Stone said when they were settled into the leather rear compartment and on the way downtown to his home in Turtle Bay.
    “That sounds like something one would say about a hunter,” Felicity replied, “meaning a horse.”
    “I know what a hunter is,” Stone replied. “How did you acquire this transport?”
    “It belongs to the British ambassador to the United Nations, who is, at the moment, in London being instructed. He has placed it at my disposal while he is away, and I represented him at the dinner earlier this evening.”
    “When did you arrive in New York?”
    “About an hour before the dinner,” she replied, “and I am quite shattered. I’ve been traveling since dawn this morning, London time.”
    “Then we must put you right to bed,” Stone said.
    She placed a hand on the inside of his thigh and squeezed lightly. “I should bloody well hope so.”
     
     
     
    THE DRIVER UNLOADED her bags and, at Stone’s instruction, took them to the third floor in the elevator. A man emerged from a car behind them. “What are your instructions, ma’am?” he