Shakeup Page 16

“I’m afraid not. We’ve got something of a panic on that I can’t go into, but it’s all hands on deck, I’m afraid. Why don’t you call your security provider?”

  “I’m speaking to her, as we speak.”

  “Oh, yes, you are, aren’t you? How about your caretaker, Major Bugg?”

  “He’s out for knee replacement surgery.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “I suppose I could call Inspector Holmes, of the local constabulary.”

  “I’m afraid they are also participants in the panic,” Felicity said.

  “You think I should come over there?”

  “That’s what jet aeroplanes are for, isn’t it? Coming over here?”

  Stone thought about it.

  “If we get our panic cleared up, I’ll be down tomorrow afternoon.”

  A few days with Dame Felicity was an alluring notion. “I suppose I could pop over,” he said.

  “How lovely. Will you give me dinner tomorrow evening?”

  The cook lived on the estate. “Of course.”

  “What time?”

  “I’ll call you from the air when I have a firm ETA,” he replied.

  “Shall I bring a toothbrush?” she asked, coyly.

  “I can’t imagine that you would need more than that,” he said. “See you tomorrow evening.”

  “I’ll go quell the panic,” she said.

  * * *

  —

  Eddie walked downstairs from his guest suite and rapped on the door to Alfie’s study.

  “Come!”

  Eddie entered and found Alfie sitting at his desk. Next to that was something covered with a cashmere throw.

  “Good morning, Eddie,” Alfie said cheerfully. “I trust you slept well.”

  “I did.”

  “I wanted to show you this last night, but I was knackered.” He handed Eddie some postcards. “These are the pictures we wish to, ah, borrow from Windward Hall.”

  “From where?”

  “Windward Hall is the name of the country house. In this country, they are always given names by their owners or their ancestors.”

  “Gotcha.” Eddie riffled through the postcards. “Very nice,” he said. “I don’t know much about art, except how to steal it, but I’d buy these myself.”

  Alfie stood up, took hold of the cashmere throw and pulled it away. It had covered four medium-sized oil paintings.

  “Holy shit!” Eddie was amazed. “Did you already steal them?”

  “Of course not,” Alfie said. “These are forgeries.”

  Eddie took a closer look. “These look real to me,” he said.

  “That’s because they are real. I have this guy who can copy anything, right down to the brushstroke. Not even a lot of experts can tell the difference.”

  “Well,” Eddie said, “if he’s so good, why don’t you just give these to your Scottish guy and tell him they’re the real thing?”

  “Because he’s smart enough to figure it out and mean enough to cut my throat—or have it done. He’s not a bloke you want to mess about. I have a good working relationship with him, and I don’t want to cock it up.”

  “You know best, Alfie.”

  “Thank you, my son.”

  “So, when do we do it?”

  “Tomorrow night. I need to get my man to check out the hangar at Windward Hall.”

  “I’m game,” Eddie said.

  * * *

  —

  Maren knocked on Stone’s office door and stuck her head in. “I’m off,” she said.

  Stone got up and went to her. “Is your work here done?”

  “I got word that Little Debby is back in D.C., so that’s where I need to be.”

  “Any luck nailing down Eddie Craft?”

  “His name is on a list,” she said. “I hope he turns up, because I could really use him in court.”

  “Well, I’ve got to go to England for a couple of days to look into this break-in. Felicity seems to think it was a rehearsal for a job on my house in the country, which has the same security system.”

  “You’re lucky I’m not the jealous type,” Maren said, “or I’d shoot down your airplane.”

  “Then, as you say, I’m lucky.” They kissed and she went to her car, which was waiting in the garage.

  Stone buzzed Joan. “Get Faith and everybody on board for a flight to England tomorrow, wheels up at seven AM.”

  “Ah, you have a dinner date tomorrow night, don’t you?” Joan asked.

  “Don’t ask, just alert the cook.”

  44

  Stone was taxiing the Gulfstream from Jet Aviation at Teterboro to Runway One, with the Bacchettis in the passenger compartment, when his cell phone rang. “Yes?”

  “Where are you?” Holly asked.

  “Taxiing for takeoff,” Stone said, “on the way to England for a few days. Dino and Viv managed to get some time off, as they usually do, so they’re aboard.”

  “A pity. I’m coming to New York. What, or who, takes you to England?”

  “A security breach at my London house. The country house is probably next. I suspect a burglar at work.”

  “What did he take from the London house?”

  “Nothing, apparently. It seems to have been a dry run for Windward Hall, since they have identical security systems.”

  “Will you see Felicity?”

  “Her service is in some sort of panic; she may be down to Hampshire, if she sorts it out.”

  “I’m jealous.”

  “Oh, good!”

  “Beast!”

  The tower called: “N123 TF, cleared for takeoff.”

  “I’ve been cleared for takeoff,” Stone said, checking for traffic, then turning left onto the runway. “Bye-bye.” He centered the tiller and moved the throttles forward. Soon, he was climbing, then turning northeast. He switched on the autopilot, got out of the left seat, and was replaced by Faith, his regular pilot. He went aft, settled into a seat opposite the Bacchettis, and the flight attendant brought them freshly squeezed orange juice.

  “Mimosa, anyone?” she asked.

  Dino opened his mouth, but Viv beat him to it. “Too early for you,” she said.

  “Hair of the dog,” Dino replied.

  “Nonsense,” Viv said, then opened her copy of the Times. “How long, Stone?”

  “Around six hours. We’ve got a big tailwind.”

  “I love a tailwind,” Viv said.

  “Who doesn’t?”

  Dino filched the business section of the newspaper from his wife.

  “You never used to read the business section,” Stone said.

  “I never used to have money,” Dino replied. His late father-in-law had left him comfortably fixed, annoying his ex-wife to no end. “Now, I enjoy watching the market.”

  “Will we see Felicity?” Viv asked.

  “She has some sort of flap on at work, but if she can resolve that, yes. I’ll call her when we’re an hour or so out and find out if she’s in London or Beaulieu, at her house there.”

  “I think I can guess where she’ll be,” Viv said. “After all, she is motivated to fix her flap, with you on the way. Does Holly know where you’re headed?”

  “She called as we were taxiing,” Stone said. “She knows all.”

  “Or suspects,” Viv said.

  “Viv, my darling,” Dino said. “Shut up.”

  “I’m just . . .”

  “I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘prying.’”

  Viv made a disgusted noise and disappeared behind her newspaper.

  * * *

  —

  As the sun set, Stone picked up the satphone and dialed a number.

  “Ah, just as you said you would,” she said.

  “Just as I said.”


  “And your ETA?”

  “Seven o’clock, your time, give or take.”

  “I’ll wait for you in the library,” she said. “What would you like me to wear?”

  “Something that will impress Viv Bacchetti. She and Dino are along.”

  “I will be delighted to see them,” she said.

  Stone could not detect any irony. “They’ll be delighted to see you, too. You and Viv can bring yourselves up to date on the international gossip, and Dino and I can listen quietly.”

  “Sounds perfect. I’ll see you seven-thirtyish.”

  * * *

  —

  In London, Alfie Bing got a call. “Hullo, boss,” a voice said.

  “And to you,” Alfie replied. “What say you?”

  “It was just starting to get dark when I visited, and the hangar was unoccupied.”

  “Very good,” Alfie said, then hung up and turned to Eddie Craft. “We’re on,” he said. “We’ll leave around eleven; it’s an hour-and-a-half drive, that time of the evening.”

  “I’m at your disposal,” Eddie said. “Are we going heeled?”

  “I never do,” Alfie said. “I prefer my wits to carrying a gun. I’m much less likely to get shot, even if the opposition is armed. I do take along a cosh, though. A rap behind the ear can do much to discourage interference.”

  “I take your point, but do you mind if I carry?”

  “I do mind. If you wish to do so, find your own jobs.”

  “I yield to your authority,” Eddie said.

  “And I’ll pat you down to be sure you’re good,” Alfie replied.

  * * *

  —

  Stone and Dino changed into their dinner suits and went down to greet Dame Felicity, while Viv took her time.

  “Viv apologizes,” Dino said, after kisses had been exchanged.

  “No need,” Felicity replied. “She’s a woman, after all, and we must always look perfect for you lot.”

  “So that’s why it takes so long.”

  “View it as a compliment.”

  “I will, unless I’m hungry,” Dino said.

  “You look lovely,” Stone contributed. “I love the dress.” The butler came round with a silver tray, bearing their drinks. “May I prepare something for Mrs. Bacchetti?” he asked Dino.

  “She’d like a very dry martini with two anchovy-stuffed olives the instant she sits down,” Dino said. “She gets surly if she has to wait for her martini.”

  “I shall be ready, Commissioner.” He repaired to the butler’s pantry.

  “What is the condition of your flap?” Stone asked.

  “What flap?” Felicity asked, blandly.

  “The one that was defying solution, last time we spoke at any length.”

  “Oh, that. I simply assigned one of my deputies to handle it, then got into the car and drove down here, chasing the police car ahead of me.”

  “I’m so glad,” Stone said, as Viv swept into the room.

  They gave her a little round of applause, and by the time she sat down, her martini had materialized before her.

  45

  Alfie Bing drove Eddie Craft down to Hampshire, keeping the saloon car right at the speed limit. He had no desire to attract attention; one had to be careful of the little things.

  He drove past the main gate to Windward Hall and saw the hangar in the distance. There appeared to be a light on inside. Alfie passed the hangar, made a U-turn, and stopped, he and Eddie staring silently at the building.

  “That looks awfully like a jet aeroplane in the hangar,” Alfie said, finally.

  “It does, doesn’t it?” Eddie said. “A long drive for nothing.”

  “Perhaps not,” Alfie responded. He drove farther up the road, until the Hall itself came into view.

  “Light on upstairs,” Alfie said. “What’s the time?”

  “Half past midnight,” Eddie replied. “Someone’s likely getting laid.”

  * * *

  —

  Just beyond the lamp in the window, Stone and Felicity were getting laid. They performed slowly and artfully, as old friends will, each knowing what pleased the other. Then things heated up, until they made a point of climaxing together.

  “That was just wonderful,” Felicity said.

  “I can’t think of a better word,” Stone replied. “I love the afterglow.”

  “Perhaps we would glow a bit better, if you switch off that lamp,” she said.

  Stone turned and pressed the button that turned off all the lights in the house still burning, except those in the guest room, which were managed by the occupants.

  * * *

  —

  Ah, there,” Alfie said. “They’re abed.” He pulled into the parking lot of the nearby pub, the Rose & Crown, shut off the car, and unscrewed the cap on a vacuum canister. “Coffee, Eddie, or will you kip for a bit?”

  “I believe I’ll nap,” Eddie replied, and put his head back onto the seat.

  “As you wish,” Alfie said. “I believe I’ll think this through while you kip.”

  Alfie had committed the house’s plan to memory, and, in his mind, he watched Eddie and himself enter the building through the kitchen door. Then, using only a taped flashlight for a narrow beam, make their way, first to the control box for the alarm, then into the library, where the four Matilda Stones hung in their frames. After a bit, he dozed, too.

  Eddie awoke first and checked his watch. “Alfie,” he said, quietly. “It’s just past two o’clock.”

  Alfie sat up straight and looked around. “No moon, no traffic, no lights in the house. Ideal.” They both got out of the car and went to the trunk, where Alfie had black raincoats, watch caps, and cloth masks that would hang on their ears and cover everything but their eyes. “If we should encounter resistance,” he said, “under no circumstances remove the masks. If someone gets close enough to reach for them, I’ll use my cosh, and then I will decide whether to leave and, if so, what to take with us. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Eddie replied.

  Alfie removed the canvas carryall that contained the forged paintings, closed the boot lid gently, and began walking up the road, on the opposite side of the house. “This is the last time we’ll speak, until we’re back in the car,” he said. “If traffic appears, just lie down next to the road, and it will pass us by.

  Eddie nodded and followed his leader.

  * * *

  —

  Stone got up in the night and found the bathroom in the dark. He relieved himself and then returned to bed, trying not to wake up.

  * * *

  —

  Alfie had made it over the estate wall with a big assist from Eddie, and they both dropped soundlessly onto the grass beyond. Alfe held up a hand to say Be still, and he listened for a minute or two for a dog, a footstep, or the cocking of a shotgun. He heard only an owl, from some distance.

  Alfie knew that the estate’s dog went home with a staffer, usually the retired Royal Marine, Major Bugg. And he was grateful for that. He had an air pistol in his pocket that fired a dart, but he was glad not to have to use it. The two men walked around the house, then slowly and silently up the steps to the kitchen door, where Alfie switched on his flashlight and examined the lock. Just what you’d expect on a country house kitchen door, he mused. He opened his zippered case and examined a selection of skeleton keys, choosing the largest one. Too big; wouldn’t go in. He returned it to the case and chose the next largest. It slipped in perfectly. He retracted it and picked up a small can of WD-40 oil, then sprayed the inside of the lock. The key went back in, and the lock turned smoothly and noiselessly. Alfie wiped any stray oil from the lock, returned the key to its case, and put a hand on the doorknob, turning it very slowly. The door eased open.

  Alfie motioned Eddie inside and made closing
motions for the door, then he moved as quickly as possible to a closet on the other side of the kitchen, where the control box for the security system lay, expecting it to chirp at any moment, signaling an entry of the house. To his surprise, the opened box made no sound. He pulled Eddie close by the lapel and whispered into his ear, “They didn’t arm the system. Piece of cake, now.”

  Alfie walked in a measured way down the hall toward the study, keeping close to the wall to minimize creaking floorboards. The study door was unlocked, as he had expected; he ushered Eddie into the room and slowly closed the door behind him. He took the carryall containing the forgeries, walked across the room, following the needle beam of the flashlight to where the paintings hung. He went over each with the flashlight to be sure they were what he wanted, then examined the frames, motioning Eddie to remove the forgeries from the bag. His light played over both sets of paintings; the frames matched perfectly.

  Alfie used his flashlight to examine what fastened the pictures to the wall and found exactly what he had expected. He needed only a small wrench and a paring knife to remove them from the wall and set them on the floor.

  He beckoned Eddie to watch him work, and thus, to learn something. He slowly removed the screws from each frame, and set the pictures against the wall.

  Then the thing Alfie had expected least happened; the lights came on in the room.

  “Stand very still,” a man’s voice said, “or I’ll shoot you where you stand. Turn and face me.”

  The two men turned around and found themselves confronted by a large naked man, who was pointing a small pistol at them.

  46

  Alfie shrank inside his coat, making himself as small as possible. He knew the man with the gun would pay more attention to Eddie, the larger burglar. Alfie coughed a couple of times, holding his hands over his mouth, turning the man’s focus to him, then away. He put his hands into his pockets and felt the cosh and the air gun.

  The man with the gun stepped forward, put out a hand and spun Eddie around, a policelike move, as if he were going to cuff him. Alfie, seizing the moment of distraction, swung the cosh and struck the naked man in the back of the neck. He collapsed in a heap on the floor. Alfie put away the cosh and took out the air gun, previously reserved for a dog. It would work as well on a man.