Stone Barrington 06-11

your guys.”
    “You’ve got my cell phone number. Call me.”
    “Will do.” Cantor let himself out of the house.

    Stone called Carpenter. “I want another meeting with Sir Edward.”
    “I’m not sure he has the time.”
    “ What? Is he jerking me around?”
    “Can you arrange the meeting with La Biche?”
    “We can talk about that at the meeting.”
    “I’ll see if he has the time.”
    “If he wants to get this done, tell him to find the time. We’re meeting at my house, as soon as possible.”
    “He’ll want to choose the spot.”
    “Then tell him to go fuck himself.” Stone hung up.
    The phone rang ten minutes later.
    “Yes?”
    “Five o’clock, at your house,” she said.
    “Just him,” Stone replied.
    “He wants me.”
    “I want you, too, when you’re not killing people. Tell him I’ll frisk him for a wire—you, too.”
    “He won’t sit still for that.”
    “We’re going to do this my way, or not at all,” Stone said. “What’s it going to be?”
    She covered the phone and spoke to someone else, then came back. “See you at five,” she said.

    Stone hung up and called Bob Cantor. “The meeting’s at five.”
    “That’s going to be tough. How long will it last?”
    “Half an hour to an hour is my best guess.”
    “I’ll do the best I can.”
    Stone went to the dining room. He moved all the chairs back to the wall, except three, then he went to his desk, rummaged through a drawer, and came up with a small scanner. He replaced the batteries and put it into his pocket, then he sat down and called Marie-Thérèse’s cell phone.
    “Yes?”
    “Call me from a pay phone,” he said. “I’ve had my phones checked. They were bugged, but they’re clean now.”
    “Ten minutes,” she said, then hung up.
    Stone waited as patiently as he could, then picked up the phone as soon as it rang. “That you?”
    “It’s me.”
    “I have a meeting with the English gentleman at five.”
    “Good.”
    “We have to talk about what you want, so I’ll have something to negotiate about.”
    “I want what he offered me, plus as much else as I can get.”
    “You mean money? Damages for your parents’ death?”
    “That would be nice.”
    “Given the attrition you’ve caused in his organization, I don’t think you’d have a leg to stand on. You’ve already realized a good deal more than tit for tat.”

    “All right, I want a written apology for the deaths of my parents.”
    “I like that. It’s good to start with something we know he’ll never give us. What else?”
    “I don’t really care, except I think we need something to punish him with, if he reneges.”
    “Let me give that some thought. I’ll call you when the meeting is over.”
    “Where is the meeting being held?”
    “Oh no, you don’t. You’re not going to harm a hair on anybody’s head while I’m in this, or you’ll have to get yourself a new lawyer. I’m not going to be an accessory to a killing.”
    “Oh, all right, I won’t murder anybody for a while,” she said, like a child promising to be good.
    “Good. Talk to you later.” He dictated some notes to Joan and read them as they came off the printer, then read them again. He was ready. He looked at his watch, impatient to get on with it.

42
    Sir Edward and Carpenter were on time, and Stone showed them into the dining room. “Would you like some refreshment?” he asked.
    “Perhaps later,” Sir Edward replied. “Let’s get on with it.”
    Stone sat down. “Marie-Thérèse is willing to meet with you in a public place of her choosing, under stringent security requirements, which she will dictate.”
    “Agreed,” Sir Edward replied. “Subject to my approval of her choice of place.”
    “You offered to meet at a place of her choosing. You won’t know the place until you’re there. If you become concerned as you make your way there, you can always abort.”
    “How will she arrange this?”
    “You’ll go to a public place, then be contacted by cell phone and directed to another public place, then another, until she is satisfied you didn’t bring company. Then, and only then, will the meeting take place.”

    “Agreed,” Sir Edward replied.
    “She will require a written apology from you, personally, on your service’s letterhead, for the deaths of her parents.”
    Sir Edward grew an inch. “Absolutely out of the question,” he said.
    “And monetary damages,” Stone said.
    “That is patently ridiculous,” Sir Edward replied