“It will be there inside an hour, and call me when you’re back home.”
“All right. Anything else?”
“I want personal information on them, too.”
“Surely you already have that.”
“I want to see if there are any contradictions between what I know and what they tell you.”
“How will I know?”
“I’ll know. Transmit the recording to me. My man will show you how.” Lance hung up.
* * *
—
Stone was waiting at Lance’s table when the headwaiter brought the McIntoshes over. Stone switched on the recording device; the microphone was hidden in the silk pocket square in his jacket’s breast pocket.
“Hello, Stone,” Mac said, pumping his hand. “I didn’t know you were joining us.”
“Hi, Mac. Hi, Laura. I didn’t, either, until Lance called. He’s got some sort of flap going on at Langley and couldn’t make the chopper to New York.”
They got settled in at the table. “I think we should take the opportunity to explore the wine list, don’t you?”
They both nodded happily.
Stone opened the wine list. “Shall we start with champagne?” He ordered a bottle of Dom Pérignon. “We haven’t seen much of each other, so I welcome the opportunity to get to know both of you better.” The champagne was served, and they studied the menus. They ordered, then Stone bored in. “You’ve heard about Peter Grant?”
“What about Peter?” Mac asked.
“He was driving on the West Side Highway around five-forty-five yesterday afternoon, when his car went into the Hudson.”
Mac looked shaken. “Was he hurt badly?”
“He was shot in the head from another car. He’s dead.”
“I’m shocked,” Mac said. Laura said nothing.
“How did you first meet Peter, Mac?”
“It was on Martha’s Vineyard three or four years ago,” Mac said.
“Three,” Laura added. “We were staying with friends, and Peter was a houseguest, too.”
“Who were your hosts?” Stone asked.
“Dan and Martha Thelwell,” Mac answered. “We were at Harvard with Dan.”
“Reason I ask is, the police don’t have a next of kin to call, or even a cousin or a friend.”
“He’s from Boston,” Mac said. “That’s all I know. I didn’t know him at Harvard.”
“Where do the Thelwells live?”
“They’ve moved to London for Dan’s work,” Laura said. “We don’t have an address.”
“Who does he work for?”
“It used to be a Wall Street firm, but he got the London offer from another company, I don’t know who.”
“It’s very sad,” Stone said. “Peter had just bought an apartment on Fifth Avenue and a new Mercedes, which he was driving. I’m sure there’ll be an estate to distribute, so if you speak to anyone who knows a relative, please let me know.”
“Sure, but I don’t expect we’ll learn about that,” Mac said.
“How well would you say you knew Peter?”
“Superficially,” Mac said. “We only met him a couple of times after the Vineyard, always at some social event.”
Stone changed the subject. “How did you two meet?” he asked.
“We had a class together at Harvard,” Laura said.
“A class in what?” Stone asked.
“Russian history and literature, as I recall,” Mac said.
“No,” Laura broke in, “just history.”
“She’s always right,” Mac said to Stone. “We also had some language classes in Russian together.”
“Where were you both in school before Harvard?”
“I was at Phillips Exeter, and Laura was in the Spence School, here.”
Their appetizers arrived, and Stone continued to question them while they started on their food.
“You know,” Mac said. “Lance already has all this stuff.”
“Oh, I’m not asking for Lance,” Stone said. “I’m just interested. Do you mind?”
“Not in the least,” Mac said.
“Tell me, after Harvard, how did you avoid the CIA? I’m sure they looked at you, especially if you had the Russian language.”
“Not formally, but our Russian professor introduced us to a gentleman who asked us the sort of questions you’re asking now,” Mac said. “But, of course, you’re now Agency, aren’t you?”
“Only on the fringes,” Stone said. “Once in a while I help out.”
“As with our lunch today?”
“Exactly. I haven’t done any personal shopping for Lance—yet—but I’m sure I’ll get that call one day soon.”
Stone got them through their decision to go to Washington, Mac in State, Laura at Defense.
“Has having Russian helped either of you in your jobs?” Stone asked.
“I was once asked to translate a telegram from Gorbachev to somebody, I forget who,” Laura said.
“Me, never at all,” Mac said. “I’m sure we’re both pretty rusty by now.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Kate gave you the secretary’s slot, now that Holly has resigned.”
“Oh, that won’t happen,” Mac said. “There’s no point in going through the confirmation process, when we’ll have a new president in January. And Holly, if I know her, is going to want a woman in the job.”
“Will you stay on at State?”
“That depends on who gets the top job,” Mac said. “She may want her own deputy.”
“What would you like to do if you leave State?”
“Write my memoirs,” Mac said, laughing. “Seriously, I’ve got a book or two in me.”
“I’ll stay at Defense as long as they’ll let me,” Laura said.
Stone ordered an expensive bottle of claret, then their main courses arrived.
* * *
—
“Have you two traveled a lot?” Stone asked.