Unintended Consequences - By Stuart Woods

30





Stone checked the weather again before leaving the hotel. No change. He wished now that he had accepted Marcel’s offer of his car. He got into his trench coat, unpacked a folding fedora, and carried it down to the lobby and out the front door. “Taxi, please,” he said to the doorman.

The man was dressed in a yellow slicker with a hood. “I’m sorry, Mr. Barrington,” he said, throwing up his hands. “There are no taxis, except those that might drop a passenger at the hotel. It could be half an hour or more.”

“Then I’ll walk,” Stone said, putting on his hat and buttoning and belting his trench coat.

The man held out an umbrella. “Compliments of the hotel,” he said.

Stone trudged down the street in the general direction of Marcel’s building, leaning into the wind and sheltering himself as best he could under the umbrella. Twenty minutes later he walked into the building, dripping water onto the lobby floor. He gave the doorman his coat, hat, and umbrella. The man received them gingerly and hung them in a closet.

Stone’s trousers were soaked from the shins down, and so were his shoes. He rode up in the elevator, adjusting his tie and making himself as presentable as possible. He arrived at Marcel’s floor and was greeted by the man himself.

“My dear fellow!” Marcel cried. “Your trousers are soaked. Were you unable to find a taxi?”

“I should have accepted your offer of your car,” Stone said.

Marcel turned to his butler. “Victor, find Mr. Barrington a robe and press his suit. Is your coat downstairs, Stone?”

“Yes.”

“Dry everything and press his garments,” Marcel said. “Please, Stone, go with Victor.”

Victor showed him to a guest bedroom. “There is a dressing gown and slippers in the closet,” he said. “Please give me your suit and shoes.”

Stone got out of the clothes and turned them over to Victor, then he got into the cashmere dressing gown and soft leather slippers and went back to the living room, where Marcel waited.

“Come into the study,” Marcel said. “Lunch will be ready shortly. Would you like a drink?”

“Perhaps some Perrier,” Stone said. He took a chair and the footman brought him the water.

Marcel joined him. “Now,” he said, “I hope you are comfortable.”

“Quite comfortable,” Stone said.

“The storm is very bad. De Gaulle is closed—until midnight, they say.”

“I hope I might be able to get a flight to New York tomorrow,” Stone said. “I hope we can conclude our business, one way or another, before then.”

“I, too, hope so,” Marcel said. “Have you thought about my offer?”

“Yes, and I’ve discussed it with two of our directors, as well. Here is what I am willing to propose to the board: to sell you fifteen percent of our stock for three hundred and fifty million dollars and to invest our net proceeds in a new company, which would operate hotels in Europe and, perhaps, elsewhere in the world.”

“Well,” Marcel said, “now it is my turn to think.” The waiter entered and announced lunch.

“I thought some hot soup would be appropriate for the weather,” Marcel said as they took their seats.

The waiter served a leek and potato soup, which Stone welcomed.

“I don’t know if you have spoken to Lance,” Marcel said.

“No, but I’ve heard that you are, perhaps, a little uncomfortable with your arrangement with him.”

“On reflection, yes. I am French, and I am troubled that I might somehow go against my country’s interests in being associated with him.”

“I can quite understand that,” Stone said. “I would certainly not enter into an arrangement that would go against my own country’s interests.”

“Also, I am reluctant to communicate through the means he has given me. I am hardly a Luddite, but I am a little distrustful of electronic devices in conveying sensitive information.”

“Of course,” Stone said. “If it would be helpful to you, I would be happy to act as a conduit between you and Lance.”

Marcel brightened. “That is an interesting offer,” he said. “Would you also convey in the opposite direction?”

“Yes, indeed. I don’t imagine you will be contacting each other on a daily basis.”

“That is unlikely,” Marcel said.

“There is something that I should convey to you now, if I may.”

“Please.”

“I was visited by the police in the middle of the night,” Stone said, and proceeded to describe Helga’s situation.

“I am sorry for her,” Marcel said, “but she will surely be safe back in Sweden.”

“I believe so,” Stone said, “but it has been suggested to me by Rick LaRose that you and I may not be quite so safe.”

Marcel sighed. “I have been feeling a certain amount of pressure to enter into business dealings which are not attractive to me. This Aldo fellow has been the messenger, and I’ve had an instinctive distrust of him. The people he represents are eager to buy into my Blaise operation and to distribute the car outside of Europe and the United States.”

Stone told him of Rick’s assessment of Aldo’s business associates.

“That is shocking,” Marcel said, “but it confirms my worst suspicions, and more.”

“It seems possible,” Stone said, “that these people may employ more than business tactics in achieving their ends. You should be wary.”

“I certainly feel wary,” Marcel replied. “After all, there is the business of the bombs planted in my Blaises at the auto show.”

“Do you have any personal security?” Stone asked.

“No, I have never felt the need,” Marcel said. “Until now, perhaps.”

“I serve on the board of a company called Strategic Services,” Stone said, “run by an excellent man named Michael Freeman.”

“I have heard of them, of course,” Marcel replied. “Their reputation is excellent.”

“Mike has a Paris branch, and I would be happy to introduce you to him.”

“I would like very much to meet him,” Marcel replied. “This would seem an opportune moment for me to get out of Paris for a while, I think, and it might be a good time for me to visit New York and see if we can come to some arrangement regarding The Arrington.”

“I and my colleagues would be very happy to see you in America.”

“Then tomorrow why don’t you forsake Air France and fly with me to New York?”

“Thank you, that would be a pleasure. If you are uncomfortable staying in a hotel at this time I would be happy to have you as a guest in my home. We can make you comfortable and secure there for as long as you like.”

“That is very kind of you, Stone.”

“And there is room for others, if you wish to take some staff along.”

“I usually travel alone,” Marcel said.

“And I’ll arrange for you to meet with Mike Freeman. I’m sure Bill Eggers would like to see you, as well. He should be back shortly from his hunting trip in Maine.”

“Then I will collect you at your hotel at ten tomorrow morning,” Marcel said, “and we will drive to Le Bourget together. The storm will pass through tonight, and although the airline schedules may still be affected, we need not let that concern us.”

• • •

When Stone left an hour and a half later his suit had been pressed and his shoes dried, and so were his trench coat and his hat. He entered Marcel’s car under shelter and drove to his hotel. As he returned the doorman’s umbrella, the man seemed surprised to see him perfectly warm and dry.

As he walked into the hotel something caused him to turn and look back into the street. A black Mercedes sat, idling, and Stone had the odd feeling that it had followed him from Marcel’s building. He went upstairs to phone New York and make arrangements to receive Marcel duBois, thinking he was glad to be leaving Paris.