Stone Barrington 27 - Doing Hard Time

indirectly. As a result, two FBI agents were sent to the hotel to question him, and his bodyguards killed them both.”
    “Holy shit.”
    “Exactly, but that’s not all: Majorov was taken to the airport by his bodyguards, and there he shot both of them, then called the police. When they arrived, he claimed that they were kidnapping him.”
    “Hold on, I’m getting dizzy,” Stone said, taking a gulp of his wine.
    “You’re going to get dizzier. Majorov was released by the LVPD and is back at the hotel. Turns out, he entered the country legally, and there are no charges of any kind against him.”
    “How did you learn about this?”
    “From Billy Barnett.”
    “Is he in New York?”
    “Not yet.” Mike thought about that for a moment. “Well, he could be in New York—he could be anywhere, for that matter—but my assumption is that he’s still in L.A.”
    “Does this mean that Peter is in danger from Majorov?”
    “I don’t believe so. In the circumstances, I don’t think Majorov is likely to do anything more boisterous than playing blackjack at his hotel. Too many law enforcement and intelligence agencies are now aware of his presence in the country.”
    “I’m going to go back to L.A.,” Stone said.
    “I’ll go with you,” Mike said.
    “Do you have business there?”
    “My business is such that I have business everywhere, or at least, wherever I want to go. We’ll take the company airplane.”
    “Thank you, Mike.”
    “When would you like to go?”
    “I’ve got a few things to clear up at the office. I’ll pick you up at, say, four o’clock? We can beat most of the rush hour to Teterboro and we’ll be at The Arrington in time for dinner.”
    “Sounds good,” Mike said.
    “I’ll let Peter and the staff know we’re coming in.”
    Their lunch arrived, and they devoted their attention to that.
    •   •   •
    Back in his office, Stone called Emma Tweed, who was at her New York office.
    “Hi, there.”
    “Hi. Mike Freeman and I both have some business in L.A., so we’re going back out there. Would you like to come?”
    “I’d really like that, but my being in the New York office has caused a kerfuffle, and it’s going to take me a few days to sort it out. How long are you staying?”
    “Just a few days.”
    “Then I’ll be here when you get back,” she said. “Give my love to Tessa and the kids.”
    “Will do.”
    •   •   •
    They landed at Santa Monica at seven PM , Pacific time, and were shortly at The Arrington. Peter, Ben, and the girls greeted them in the living room.
    “Dinner in half an hour,” Peter said. “What brings you two back so soon?”
    “It’s complicated,” Stone said. “We both have business to conduct out here. Let’s leave it at that.”
    “If you say so,” Peter said.
    “How’s your shooting going, fellas?”
    “We’re a week into it and two days ahead of schedule,” Ben replied. “There are advantages to shooting on soundstages instead of on improvised locations.”
    “How are you getting along with Leo Goldman?”
    “Very well. He’s been helpful in moving things along.”
    “Have you seen Billy Barnett?” Stone asked Peter.
    “I’ve seen him in the commissary at lunch a couple of times. I believe he’s still working at the armory.”
    “He seems like a very useful fellow,” Stone said. “What’s he going to be doing when he finishes renovating all those weapons?”
    “I don’t know,” Peter said. “I’ll ask him.”
    “I would have thought that such a competent and versatile fellow might be of use to you in your work,” Stone said.
    “You know, the same thought occurred to me,” Peter said, “but I haven’t done anything about it. Maybe I’ll have a chat with him this week.”
    Suddenly Stone liked the idea of having Teddy Fay around Peter. The man had been protective of him before, and perhaps he would continue to be.

Teddy Fay sat at his usual table at the Centurion commissary and picked at his lunch while reading the
Los Angeles Times
story about the adventures of Majorov the previous day. Why wasn’t the guy in jail?
    He began to wonder if the events of the day before had made Majorov more vulnerable. Had he replaced his bodyguards? If he turned up dead now, would the police blame the Russian Mafia? Still, Teddy’s face was known at the New Desert Inn, and that face was connected to a name. Those odds were too long for Teddy.
    He finished his lunch and went back to the armory. The