Stone Barrington 06-11

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.”
    “Jesus, I’m never going to get out of this country,” Stone said.
    “That’s a possibility,” Dino agreed. “What we’ve got to do is find out what’s going on here, so we can tell Throckmorton, and then he can lock up the perpetrators, except for you.”
    “Hedger is my client; I can’t help lock him up.”
    “What’s the matter, don’t you enjoy putting away bad guys anymore? Where’s the cop in you?”
    “He’s still there, but so is the lawyer.”
    Dino sighed. “You’re hopeless.”

42
    DINO WENT TO GET DRESSED, AND Stone shaved and showered. He was tying his tie when the satellite phone rang.
    “It’s Hedger.”
    “Good morning.”
    “You said you’d have a list of the people at table twelve.”
    “Right, let me get it.” Stone retrieved the list, the only fruit of his aborted dinner with Arrington. “Want me to read you the names?”
    “Yes.”
    Stone did so.
    “It’s the Israeli cultural attaché,” Hedger said.
    “Why do you think so?”
    “Because the governments of Sweden, Australia, Germany, and Belgium do not usually participate in kidnapping innocent Americans off the streets of London. But I wouldn’t put it past the Israelis. What’s his name?”
    Stone consulted the list. “David Beth Alachmy.”
    “Holy shit.”
    “Do you know him?”
    “Just of him; he’s very smart, very tough. And his very presence in London means that he’s the new chief of station for the Mossad, the Israeli intelligence service. He’s so new in town that my people didn’t know yet.”
    “Then the two ‘Greeks’ were Israelis?”
    “Probably. You said you had a contact in the London police; why don’t you ask him?”
    “He and I are not on cordial terms at the moment.”
    “Why not?”
    “He thinks I was involved in the murder of the two Israelis.”
    “Why would he think that?”
    “Because one of them was wearing my raincoat.”
    “How the hell—”
    “I took off the raincoat when I was doing my little survey of Lance Cabot’s house, and apparently when I left, I