Foreign Affairs

“Something happen to the old one?”

“It was damaged in a fire. I’ll explain when I see you.”

“And when will that be?”

“I don’t know yet. Probably another few days, maybe a week.”

“Having too much fun to come home?”

“I’ll tell you all when I get back.”

“Okay, I’m on the briefcase.” They hung up.

His phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Hedy. I’m all sorted out here. Are you ready for me?”

“Come ahead,” he said. “I’m more than ready.”

“I’ll be there in less than an hour.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing you.”

“Yes, it’s been such a long time, hasn’t it?”

They hung up, and Stone stretched out on the bed for a nap. He was nearly asleep when he was wakened by the doorbell. He had forgotten to put out the DO NOT DISTURB sign. He got out of bed and answered it.

A bellman stood at the door, holding an elongated cardboard box. “Flowers for you, Mr. Barrington,” the man said.

Stone put out the DO NOT DISTURB sign and opened the box. Who would be sending him flowers? Hardly anyone knew he was in Rome.

The box was filled with lilies, and they were wilted and dying. Stone found a card and read it.

You would be more comfortable in New York.

Stone called Mike with the latest.

“I’m going to put somebody on you,” Mike said. “This is going to escalate, and we have to be ready.”

“Whatever you think is best.”

“I’ll have somebody with you in the morning.”

11

Hedy arrived at the Hassler and let herself into the suite. Stone was back on the bed, and she lay down with him and put her head on his shoulder. “I hope this all goes away soon,” she said.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Stone said, “and I can’t just go back to New York and leave Marcel to handle it. We had a similar problem with the Russian Mob in Paris. Marcel is known there as the French Warren Buffett, and he was and is accustomed to a certain deference in the way people deal with him. I don’t think it’s something he’s sought, it’s just happened as his reputation has grown. I believe the experience with the Russians, though, has toughened him up. He’s already expressed a willingness to do what’s necessary to deal with the problem.”

“How can I help?” Hedy asked.

“First of all, consider your own position: these people already know about you from Positano, and your association with me could cause you difficulties. I’m happy to pay off the agent for the apartment and send you back to New York, or wherever you want to go, on the next airplane.”

“You’d be happy to see me go?”

“Don’t misunderstand—I’m conflicted. I want you with me, but I don’t want you to be less than safe and comfortable.”

“I feel both safe and comfortable with you,” she said.

“I’m glad of that, but if at any time you want to distance yourself from the situation, I’ll get you out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Stone had a thought. “Excuse me,” he said, “I have to call Pat Frank in New York.” He moved the pillows around and sat up in bed.

“Who’s he?”

“It’s a she. She runs an aircraft management business, and I’m her client.” He dialed the number.

“Pat Frank.”

“Hi, it’s Stone.”

“You okay?”

“Yes, but I had to make an unexpected trip to Rome a couple of days ago, and I’d like you to find a ferry pilot and move my airplane over here. Is there a convenient general aviation airport here?”

“Yes, there’s Ciampino, southeast of the city, just outside Rome’s autostrada beltway. How long do you need hangar space?”

“I’m not sure: a week or ten days, maybe.”

“I have a pilot in mind: I’ll give him a call, then check on hangar space and get back to you.”

“Okay. Use the cell number. And don’t use my name on any of the paperwork.” He hung up.

“You really do have an airplane?” Hedy asked. “I thought you were kidding.”

“I really do, and I fly it myself.”

“I feel like a drink,” she said, getting up. “Can I get you one?”

“Sure.”

She came back shortly with two glasses, then Stone’s phone rang.

“Hello?”

“It’s Pat. I’ve got you a pilot, and he can leave early tomorrow morning. From Teterboro, right?”

“Right.”

“I’ll flight-plan him to the Azores, he’ll overnight there, then on to Lisbon and Rome. The airplane will be there the day after tomorrow, and the name for the hangar reservation is under Pat Frank, Inc. The FBO is Sky Services.” She gave him the address, phone number, and a contact name. “When you’re ready to fly out, call me and I’ll take care of the flight pla

“Good. Have the pilot check the fluids and top off the tanks as soon as he arrives in Rome, and you can send Joan a bill for his services, expenses, and the fuel.”

“Will do. Have a good time in Rome.”

“I’ll do my best.” He hung up and took a sip of his drink. “There, now we’ll have a quick way out of town, if we need it.”

She laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever needed a quick way out of town before.”

“That’s what happens when you hang out with disreputable characters.”

“Or just someone who leads an interesting life.”

“I warn you, sometimes it gets a little too interesting.”

“I’m on board. Shall we order in some di

“You call room service.”

“What would you like?”

“Surprise me. I feel like a shower.” He knocked off the remainder of his drink, stripped off his clothes, and stood under a stream of hot water for ten minutes.

—

Room service arrived, and Stone approved of Hedy’s choices. They were on coffee when Stone’s phone rang.

“Hello?”

“It’s Mike. I’ve made some calls in Rome, and I don’t like what I’m hearing. I want to get you out of your hotel and into an apartment. I’ve got someone making calls about that now.”

“Hang on, Mike.” He turned to Hedy. “My friend Mike Freeman, who’s handling our security, wants us out of the hotel.”

“How about my apartment?”

“Does anyone besides you and me know about it?”

“A couple of people in New York.” She gave him the address.

Stone went back to Mike. “I’ve got an apartment in the Via Stelletto, Pantheon district.”

“All right, get packed. I’ll have somebody there in half an hour to get you out. Don’t check out of the hotel—I’ll deal with that.”

“All right,” Stone said. He hung up. “Let’s get packed.”

—

Half an hour later there was a soft knock at the door.

“Who is it?” Stone asked.

“I’m from Mike Freeman.”

Stone opened the door to find a large man in a dark suit; he had a hotel trolley with him. They gave him their luggage and followed him to a service elevator, then out a service exit to a waiting van with a driver. Stone gave them the address.

“I know it,” the driver said. “It has a courtyard, which is good for us.”

“There were two men in a car out front at the hotel,” the big man said. “I think they were waiting for you. Don’t worry, we’ll lose them.”

They followed what seemed to Stone a torturous route. As they turned into the Via Stelletto, the big man got out of the van, while the driver continued into the street and turned into the courtyard. “He’s just making sure nobody’s on our tail,” the driver said. The big man rejoined them, and they got their luggage and the two of them into a tiny elevator, while the big man ran up the four flights of stairs.

He didn’t seem winded when they arrived. “Do you mind if I have a look around before you go in?” he asked.

“Help yourself,” Hedy said, unlocking the door.