Dishonorable Intentions

by Stuart Woods

  “I’m afraid that’s correct. I didn’t go in there to start a fight. I just wanted to tell him to leave Gala alone.”

  “But a fight started anyway?”

  “Tirov produced a knife and made remarks about what he was going to do to my liver. At that point, the security people entered, and he threw away the knife. After they had searched him for other weapons, I asked them to leave us alone.”

  “Dear God, like schoolboys.”

  “It was going to come to this, and there was nothing I could do about it. I thought that, alone in the men’s room, with guards at the door, might be the best place to resolve the issue.”

  “And how did you resolve it?”

  “He attacked me, and I hit him twice, gave him a bloody nose. He had no more fight left in him, so I asked the security people to allow him to clean up, then escort him from the building and not allow him to return.”

  “Well, I suppose that’s better than having him arrested.”

  “That was my first thought.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t act on it. We’d have been all over the yellow press this morning. As it was, they didn’t get wind of what happened. Security found Tirov’s car and driver and put him in it. Presumably, he went home.”

  “I should think so. He was a mess, and he wouldn’t have wanted his friends at the table to see him. I think his nose may be broken. By the way, Marcel, I’ve already barred him from our Bel-Air hotel. I’d like him barred from all our hotels, present and future.”

  “Agreed. I’ll send out an e-mail to the managers.”

  “Especially the one next door to me in England. It would be like him to try to check in there.”

  “All right, especially that one.” He sat down at his computer and wrote the e-mail. “Uh-oh,” he said. “I got an immediate reply from the Beaulieu hotel. Tirov has a reservation for a week, checking in tonight. I’ll have them get in touch with Tirov and cancel.”

  “Thank you, Marcel.”

  “When are you returning to England?”

  “This afternoon. I’ll release the van at the airport.”

  —

  Stone went back to the Arrington and found his party lounging in their suite.

  “Everybody ready to go back to England?”

  “We’re flying back to New York with Mike Freeman,” Dino said.

  “I can be ready in an hour,” Gala said. “I’ll get started now.” Viv went with her to help.

  “Sit down,” Dino said, “I have some news.”

  Stone sat down. “Hit me with it.”

  “You’ll recall our conversation in England about my retiring from the NYPD?”

  “I recall that, and I’d be happy to have you at Windward Hall for as much of the year as you’d like.”

  “Well, out of the blue, Mike Freeman approached me and suggested that I come to work for Strategic Services as a board member and consultant.”

  “Now that’s interesting.”

  “You’re damned right it is. The money is three times my city salary, and I’d have the freedom to spend time in England or wherever else I’d like. The only problem I can see is that when Viv gets moved up to chief operating officer, I’d be working for my wife.”

  Stone laughed. “She’d probably be a pretty good boss.”

  “She’d just be the boss. Would you want to work for your wife?”

  “Well, I’m staying out of that conversation. It’s one that only you and Viv should be involved in. Maybe Mike could have you report only to him.”

  “Now that’s a good idea! I’ll talk with him about it on the plane home.”

  “I expect you’re going to need to have a conversation with the mayor, too.”

  “Right. I want to make sure he picks the right successor. I don’t want some ass in the job, rolling back everything I’ve done, and I don’t want my going to affect his plans for running for reelection.”

  “Let me sweeten the deal for you,” Stone said.

  “You go right ahead and do that.”

  “You and Viv are welcome for as long as you like in all my houses—L.A., Maine, Paris, and Windward.”

  “That is, indeed, very sweet.”

  In due course, Gala appeared, they said their goodbyes and left for the airport. They drove into the CIA hangar and were met by the manager.

  “We had some people snooping around this morning,” the man said.

  “What people and what kind of snooping?”

  “Two men tried to talk their way into the hangar. They got nowhere, of course, but they were asking about you. You know anything about that?”

  “Was one of them a big bald guy?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know what’s behind it—it’s personal, nothing to do with you folks. The problem will be resolved with my departure, and we’re ready to go, as soon as I get a preflight inspection done. I’ve already filed a flight plan.”

  “Just let me know when you’re ready to taxi.”

  “Will do.” Stone loaded their luggage and began his preflight. Half an hour later they were being towed from the big hangar onto the ramp. Stone looked around for signs of Tirov’s minions: there were various vehicles parked nearby but none that looked particularly threatening. I hope, he thought, that nobody’s lurking in the weeds with a shoulder-fired missile. He consoled himself with the idea that not even Tirov could be that stupid.

  Stone got his clearance and was cleared to taxi to the runway. That took ten minutes, and he kept a sharp eye out for threats of any sort. He was cleared for takeoff as they reached the runway, so he did a rolling start, advancing the throttles and starting his takeoff roll as he turned onto the centerline. Half a minute later they were climbing out of Ciampino, unmolested. Stone breathed a sigh of relief.

  —

  England came into view an hour and a half later, green and pleasant in the clear air and sunshine, as they descended over the Channel. They set down and taxied toward the hangar, and Stone saw Bob jump down from the Range Rover and run toward them. He cut the engines immediately to avoid accidents. As soon as Stone had the door open, Bob ran up the stairs to greet them. “Home again,” Stone said.

  “I’ve come to think of it that way, too,” Gala replied.

  23

  Stone had hardly reached the house when Geoffrey told him he had a call from the manager of the Arrington property next door.

  “Yes?”

  “Mr. Barrington, this is Mr. Scott, at the Arrington.”

  “Yes, Mr. Scott.”

  “Earlier today we received an e-mail from Mr. duBois in Rome, asking us to deny registration to a Mr. Boris Tirov.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

  “Our desk clerk replied that Mr. Tirov had a reservation for a week, beginning today.”

  “I know all that.”

  “What the desk clerk failed to make clear was that Mr. Tirov had already checked in. We met his flight from Rome this morning and drove him to the hotel. He is in his suite now, and so are his traveling companions, in theirs.”

  “Can you get him out?”

  “I’m afraid that, under law, once a guest is in possession of his rooms we cannot oust him unless he fails to pay upon presentation of his bill.”

  Stone thought for a moment. “Can you shut down the hotel on some pretense? A power failure, something like that?”

  “Sir, the hotel is full, and all the guests with bookings have checked in. If we shut down the hotel we would greatly inconvenience guests with whom we are trying to build loyalty, and incidentally, we would lose a great deal of money. Also, we would be obliged to furnish them with other accommodation at our expense.”

  “All right, I understand. Don’t shut down the hotel. What are our alternatives?”

  “We have none, sir. Unless Mr. Tirov and his guest
s conduct themselves in a manner that would tread upon the rights of the other guests, we are, well, stuck with them.”

  “How many security personnel are typically on duty?”

  “Four in the daytime, two after midnight.”

  “Can you summon other security staff?”

  “Yes, sir, in an emergency.”

  “Please add another man, and should Tirov or his guests leave the building, have them followed. Should they trespass on my property, please call the police, in the person of Detective Chief Superintendent Holmes, of the Hampshire police, and tell him. Bill my account for the extra personnel.”

  “As you wish, Mr. Barrington. May I inquire, with respect, what the difficulty is with Mr. Tirov?”

  “He is an obstreperous person who may be a danger to a guest of mine. He had to be ejected from the Rome Arrington last night after he attacked me with a knife.”

  “I hope you are all right, sir.”

  “I am. Please have Tirov followed.”

  “I quite understand, sir, and I will follow your instructions to the letter.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Scott.” Stone hung up and found Gala watching him.

  “I heard most of that,” she said. “Boris is next door?”

  “I’m afraid so, and there’s nothing I can do about it except have him followed.”

  Gala collapsed onto a sofa. “Then I should go back to Santa Fe,” she said. “My presence here is causing too much trouble.”

  “Nonsense. I won’t allow him to bother us. Hotel security will follow him, if he leaves the building, and the local police have already been warned about him. You will be perfectly safe here, and no trouble at all. I would be very unhappy if you were back in Santa Fe and I here.”

  “Well, if you’re sure.”

  “And anyway, we’ve already invited Felicity Devonshire for dinner tomorrow night . . . and she’ll be staying over.”

  “Well,” Gala said, smiling, “there is that, isn’t there?”

  “There certainly is.”

  Gala patted the seat next to her, and Stone sat down. “Are you sure you want Felicity to stay over? I mean, it’s all very well for me, but . . .”

  “It’s all very well for me, too,” he replied.

  “It was last time, wasn’t it?”

  “I enjoyed myself—and both of you.”

  “It was the first time I’ve been in a threesome that worked for everybody,” she said. “I mean, jealousies do arise sometimes—usually, in fact.”

  “I didn’t feel that at all.”

  “Neither did I, and I don’t believe Felicity did.”

  “Then we should be fine.”

  “You’ll tell me, if it’s not?”

  “I’m sure that, if we encounter difficulties, we’ll work them out in a civilized manner.”

  “Are you aroused, talking about this?”

  “I am.”

  “So am I.”

  “Then let’s go upstairs right now.”

  She got up and led him out of the room and up the stairs. Once in the master bedroom, it took them only seconds to undress.

  24

  After dinner and after the making of love, Gala elected to have a Jacuzzi in the master bath, while Stone and Felicity enjoyed a cognac in bed.

  “Such a nice evening,” Felicity said.

  “I am entirely in agreement,” Stone sighed.

  “Funny how easy it is with the three of us.”

  “Gala and I said pretty much the same thing to each other.”

  “I know I shouldn’t have to mention this,” Felicity said, “but I do.”

  “Mention what?”

  “This can never go any further than this room and the three of us.”

  “You’re right, you shouldn’t have to mention it.”

  “The tabloids have taken an interest in my sex life in the past,” she said, “but helpful people managed to quiet them.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “If they knew that you and I were doing the horizontal bunny hop, they’d love it, but they wouldn’t print it. But if they knew that the three of us were doing it, all at the same time, nothing would stop them from publishing.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “I’ve got some good years left in my job, and I want to serve them out without a scandal. After that . . .”

  “You mean a scandal would be all right after you’ve retired?”

  “Oh, I’d be asked everywhere by everybody!”

  Stone laughed, then turned serious. “Felicity, I want to ask you a favor. I know I shouldn’t, but . . .”

  “Ask away—the worst I can do is tell you to go fuck yourself.”

  Stone laughed. “I’ve no need to do that.”

  “I suppose not.”

  “The favor is, I need some foreign intelligence, and you’re in that business.”

  “Indeed I am. What sort of intelligence?”

  “Gala was once married to a Russian named Boris Tirov.”

  “Sounds familiar. Isn’t he in the movie business?”

  “He is, as is Gala—that’s how they met. They were divorced a year or so ago, and since then he’s made her life hell—making demands outside their settlement agreement, following her around, taking too much of an interest in whom she sees socially.”

  “Taking too much of an interest in you, you mean?”

  “Yes. It wouldn’t bother me so much if it didn’t bother her so much.”

  “I see. Would you like me to have someone shoot him?”

  “Gosh, I hadn’t thought of that. Could you, please?”

  “I’m sure you’ve thought of that, but I couldn’t have him assassinated unless he were my ex-husband.”

  “I’d be very grateful if you could have him looked into. He’s been in the States for only a few years. Before that he was an actor, then a producer in Russia.”

  “Do you know anything about his existence there?”

  “There are rumors that he’s connected to the Russian mob, and he employs some people who give credence to that.”

  “A nasty lot.”

  “Indeed.”

  “What is it you want to know?”

  “I’d like to know anything that would help me deal with the man, get him off our backs.”

  “Dirt?”

  “I’d love some dirt, but it would have to be bad enough so that I could threaten him with it.”

  “I’ve got a man headed back to Moscow next week after some home leave. I could ask him to put his shell-like ear to the ground, I suppose. He’s the sort who would be amused by the request. Do you think this Tirov might have government connections in Russia?”

  “I’ve no idea. He must be famous there, though, because he’s had a string of movies that have been worldwide hits and made him a ton of money. I should think the folks in Moscow would be very proud of their expat.”

  “That should make it easier to investigate him. What will happen if I can’t find something you can use against him?”

  “I’ll just have to strangle him, I guess. Did I mention that he’s staying next door?”

  “At your new Arrington? No, you didn’t.”

  “I had him banned from all the Arringtons, but before the word got to the management next door, Tirov had already checked in for a week, and apparently the law gives him some rights of possession. As long as he pays his bill they can’t kick him out, unless he disturbs the other guests.”

  “You don’t suppose he’s the Peeping Tom type, do you?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  “Good God! Do you think he’s got a telescope trained on us at this moment?” She pulled the sheets over her very fine breasts.

  “No, nothing like that. I’ve got hotel security tailing him.”

&
nbsp; “Is this the scoundrel who tried to come ashore from his boat at my dock?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, he’s already been snooping around here. I’m going to have to be very careful.”

  “You’re already very careful. Your native caution operates at a high level.”

  “Quite true. If he tries anything like that again, I’ll have him dealt with harshly.”

  “May I watch?”

  “I doubt if there’ll be time to invite you over, but you may hear small-arms fire from across the river.”

  “Then I’ll let my imagination run riot.”

  Gala came out of the bathroom wearing only a large towel. She dropped it and got back into bed. “What have you two been talking about?”

  “Why, you, of course,” Stone said. “What else?”

  “It’s true, darling,” Felicity said, kissing her on the shoulder. “We’ve been discussing your technique in bed.”

  “I hope neither of you had any complaints.”

  “Certainly not. You received high marks on all counts.”

  “All counts,” Stone echoed, nodding enthusiastically.

  “Well, I’m happy to give satisfaction.”

  “Oh, more than satisfaction,” Felicity said.

  “Much more,” Stone added.

  “What rises above satisfaction?”

  “Exultation,” Stone said.

  “Ecstasy,” Felicity added.

  “Well, that makes me feel very good,” Gala said.

  “Makes us feel pretty good, too,” Stone replied.

  Gala took him in her hand. “There is evidence that you are not lying,” she said.

  “Oh, good,” Felicity said. “I like evidence.”

  25

  At breakfast the following morning, Gala said, “Would you like to go riding this morning?”

  “I’d love to,” Stone replied, “but I have two video conference calls this morning.”

  “Do you mind if I go alone?”

  “Not at all. You know the drill.” He picked up the phone and arranged a horse for her, and she went to get dressed, then passed through the bedroom on her way out.

  “Have I mentioned to you how good your ass looks in riding pants?”