“Did he have a motorcycle and a shoulder wound?”

“We didn’t have enough for a search warrant to look for the bike, and short of slapping him on the back, we couldn’t search him for a wound, either. He was sitting in his living room, having a beer and watching the news, like a normal person. He denied everything, of course.”

“What do you need for a search warrant?”

“Pretty much an eyewitness. That could be Fred, of course, but he didn’t see enough to be of much help. You want dinner tonight?”

“I’d love to, but I’m plying a dinner guest with liquor as we speak.” He smirked at Felicity.

“That would be Dame Felicity Devonshire of MI6, would it not?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that.”

“You can hide nothing from me. See you later.” Dino hung up.

“And how is Dino?” Felicity asked.

“Just fine. He guessed you were here.”

“I guessed he would.”

“How is Ian coming along?”

“He was discharged early this afternoon and is resting in his new flat in the embassy residence.”

“A pity I couldn’t worm the name of your mole out of Abdul-Aziz, then he could go home.”

“I needed some new blood in New York, anyway.”

He cocked his head and looked at her. “You seem awfully relaxed about the mole.”

“Relax is all I can do, until we’ve worked through our investigation.”

“And how long is that going to take?”

“As long as it takes.”

“And Ian has to live with that for the duration?”

“He’ll be pretty much under wraps in New York. It’s not like he’s going to be making public appearances.”

Stone looked at his watch. “The Four Seasons?”

She smiled. “You know how I love that place.”

Stone was briefly awakened the following morning by Felicity getting out of bed, and he had a vague memory of hearing her in the shower, but when he finally was awakened by the buzzer from the dumbwaiter, announcing breakfast, she was gone, and there was a note on the bed.

Sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you, but I got a call and have a fire to put out. I’ll call you as soon as I can.

Stone ate his breakfast, read the Times, and got to his desk a bit later than usual. Felicity hadn’t called. His stomach announced the approach of noon, and he felt like getting out of the house. He took a cab to the Upper East Side, to a town house in the Sixties housing a club he had been elected to the year before. The place had no name; it was referred to by most of its members as “the place on the East Side,” and Stone had not used it much since he and Dino had been elected to membership, Dino first. The cab deposited him on the sidewalk a couple of doors down from the house, and he walked the last few steps to the front door.

He had put a hand out for the door handle when the door, anticipating him, silently opened and closed behind him. A man at a desk inside said, “Good day, Mr. Barrington,” indicating to Stone that something had recognized him as he entered, because he didn’t know the man at the desk.

He took the elevator to the top-floor restaurant and emerged into a room lit by the sun through skylights and a wall of French doors that opened onto a roof garden. He decided to sit outside and stopped at the bar there and ordered a Buck’s fizz, as the British and the club bartender called a mimosa—half orange juice, half champagne. He took a seat at the bar and surveyed the roof garden. Familiar faces from the business community, the arts, and politics dotted the crowd. A man approached the bar and took a stool a couple down from Stone.

“Good morning, Stone,” the man said, and Stone turned to find the senior senator from New York, Everett Salton, sitting there.

“Good morning, Ev,” Stone replied. He had met the man only a couple of times, but he recalled the warmth and bonhomie the man exuded. He had managed to make himself seem, on first meeting, like an old friend.

“Funny I should bump into you,” Salton said. “Just got off a helicopter twenty minutes ago after a closed hearing of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence. Your name came up.”

Stone was sorry to hear it. “I hope it was not taken in vain,” he said.

“Aspersions were cast, but I did what I could to soften them.”

“I can’t imagine why a closed session of an important committee would be bandying my name about when I feel so perfectly innocent of doing anything that might offend them in the slightest degree.”

“An innocent heart is a perfect shield,” Salton said. “I would attribute the quote, but I made it up only just now.”

“You have the soul of a poet, Ev.”

“You are not the first to notice,” the senator replied with a small smile.

“I suppose, due to the secret nature of the session, that you are unable to tell me what thought or deed on my part led to this testimony?”

“It was not so much testimony as conversation.”

“Gossip, perhaps?”

“Perhaps, but members tend, when in session, anyway, to rely on fairly solid sources for their assertions. May I buy you some lunch?”

“Thank you, yes.”

Salton raised a finger, and a headwaiter materialized beside him and led them to a discreet table shaded by a potted ficus tree. They glanced at a menu and both ordered the haddock and a glass of Chardonnay.

“Can you characterize the nature of the gossip without endangering the safety of the nation?” Stone asked after the waiter had left with their order.

“I think about all I can say is that some present were of the opinion that you might be harboring a fugitive.”

“A fugitive from what?”

“Justice, apparently.”

“I have a roomy house and often have guests, but I can’t recall any one of them who might attract the attention of the law.”

“Perhaps I should have said ‘natural justice.’ Think British.”

“I have recently had a guest who had something to fear from what one might conceivably call vigilante justice,” Stone said.

“And on what was his fear based?”

“Two previous attempts to render him, ah, irrelevant.”

“Ah, yes, irrelevance is a nasty state.”

“I find it impossible to imagine why any member of your committee might find his presence in my home to be antithetical to my country’s interests.”

“May I ask how he came to be in your home?”

“He was there at the request of two government officials.”

“Was one of them ours?”

“Yes.”

“Legislative, judicial, or executive?”

“Executive.”

“I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me who?”

“I would, reluctantly, if I was subpoenaed by your committee and placed under oath.”

“You wouldn’t take the Fifth?”

“I would have no fear of self-incrimination.”

“An invitation to testify may not be so far from possible as you might imagine.”

“I am at the committee’s disposal.”

“Can you not tell me anything that might reassure me enough for me to reassure my members?”

“I believe I’ve already told you that much.”

“The members are fond of the explicit.”

“Then they should exercise their power to elicit explicit answers.”

“I’ve heard you are a very good lawyer, and now I believe it.”

“It’s easy to be a good lawyer when your heart is pure.”

Salton laughed. “I think it would be very entertaining to see you before my committee.”

Stone laughed, too. “Is there anything I can say that might assuage the fears of your members?”