Read Online Tell Me No Lies by Elizabeth Lowell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Lowell
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opened the door. "Come in, Stone. You're late."
Stone walked through. With a glance he took in the apartment and the barefoot man standing in front of him with a 9 mm pistol in his hand. "Late? Did we have an appointment?"
"Yeah," Catlin said dryly. "The second my file hit your desk." He gestured toward a chair with his free hand. "Sit down," he called over his shoulder as he went back to the bedroom. "I'll be right with you."
A few minutes later Catlin came back wearing moccasins, a belt and a 9 mm bolstered in the small of his back. "Coffee or something stronger?"
"Coffee."
"An official visit, then."
Stone smiled unwillingly. "Have any beer?"
"Coming up."
Catlin pulled two beers out of the refrigerator, opened the long-necked bottles and returned to the living room. "To teamwork," he said ironically, saluting Stone with the beer.
Stone took a long drink and then asked, "Where were you between 1975 and 1982?"
"Around."
"Around where?"
"India. I spent a lot of time in various ashrams. Meditating."
"Bullshit," snapped Stone, slamming his beer bottle onto the coffee table. "You were in covert operations after Saigon fell."
"Really?" Catlin paused to enjoy the intimate bite of the beer as it curled across his tongue and caressed the back of his mouth. "That's going to surprise the hell out of the good guru Rajeenanda not to mention the CIA and the IRS."
"Look, I was hoping we could work together on this," said Stone, turning away, reaching for his beer again.
"There's not a doubt in my mind that we will."
Stone's head snapped around. There was no mockery in Catlin's expression or voice.
"But we're faced with the problem of the lesbian lovers," continued Catlin. "Who does what and with which and to whom?"
There was a short bark of laughter, followed by a silence as Stone drank from the icy bottle of beer once more. "You know, Catlin," Stone said as he lowered the beer, "under other circumstances I think I could enjoy working with you."
"I doubt it. I don't take orders worth a damn. You're used to giving them."
"What about Yi?" Stone asked smoothly. "He gives you orders."
"Does he?"
"How did you hook up with him?"
"I didn't."
Stone made an angry gesture. "Is this what you call cooperation?"
"You read my file. You should have a rather exact appreciation of just how cooperative I am."
Catlin waited while Stone decided whether a show of anger would be useful. The FBI agent went up in Catlin's estimation when he decided to abandon physical intimidation and go straight for blackmail.
"You know," Stone said quietly, "if someone tipped a senator from Massachusetts or a Washington Post reporter that the CIA was conducting operations on home ground, you could be in a world of hurt."
"I could. If I were with the CIA."
"You are. And I'm going to dig until I prove it." Stone paused, drank and added, "Unless I get some cooperation from you."
Catlin smiled faintly. "You can dig until hell freezes solid. I don't belong to anyone anymore. Ask around. They'll tell you the same thing you're going to learn the hard way. I'm as free as any man ever born."
Stone had heard enough truth to recognize it in Catlin's voice. Stone had also heard enough lies never to give up short of absolute certainty. He would keep digging, but he would no longer expect to hit gold. He lit a cigarette, examined his remaining options and sighed.
"Do you trust Yi?" asked Stone.
"I don't have to. I know what he wants. That beats the hell out of trust."
"What does he want?"
"From you? I imagine he'll be happy if you stop crowding him."
Stone grunted. "What does he want from you?"
"A stalking horse that will let him get close to the bronzes without being spotted as a representative of the PRC," Catlin said in the matter-of-fact tone of someone stating an obvious fact.
It was a reasonable lie and might even be part of the truth. In any case, there was no point in telling Stone that Yi wanted a full-time bodyguard for Lindsay Danner, the
Stone walked through. With a glance he took in the apartment and the barefoot man standing in front of him with a 9 mm pistol in his hand. "Late? Did we have an appointment?"
"Yeah," Catlin said dryly. "The second my file hit your desk." He gestured toward a chair with his free hand. "Sit down," he called over his shoulder as he went back to the bedroom. "I'll be right with you."
A few minutes later Catlin came back wearing moccasins, a belt and a 9 mm bolstered in the small of his back. "Coffee or something stronger?"
"Coffee."
"An official visit, then."
Stone smiled unwillingly. "Have any beer?"
"Coming up."
Catlin pulled two beers out of the refrigerator, opened the long-necked bottles and returned to the living room. "To teamwork," he said ironically, saluting Stone with the beer.
Stone took a long drink and then asked, "Where were you between 1975 and 1982?"
"Around."
"Around where?"
"India. I spent a lot of time in various ashrams. Meditating."
"Bullshit," snapped Stone, slamming his beer bottle onto the coffee table. "You were in covert operations after Saigon fell."
"Really?" Catlin paused to enjoy the intimate bite of the beer as it curled across his tongue and caressed the back of his mouth. "That's going to surprise the hell out of the good guru Rajeenanda not to mention the CIA and the IRS."
"Look, I was hoping we could work together on this," said Stone, turning away, reaching for his beer again.
"There's not a doubt in my mind that we will."
Stone's head snapped around. There was no mockery in Catlin's expression or voice.
"But we're faced with the problem of the lesbian lovers," continued Catlin. "Who does what and with which and to whom?"
There was a short bark of laughter, followed by a silence as Stone drank from the icy bottle of beer once more. "You know, Catlin," Stone said as he lowered the beer, "under other circumstances I think I could enjoy working with you."
"I doubt it. I don't take orders worth a damn. You're used to giving them."
"What about Yi?" Stone asked smoothly. "He gives you orders."
"Does he?"
"How did you hook up with him?"
"I didn't."
Stone made an angry gesture. "Is this what you call cooperation?"
"You read my file. You should have a rather exact appreciation of just how cooperative I am."
Catlin waited while Stone decided whether a show of anger would be useful. The FBI agent went up in Catlin's estimation when he decided to abandon physical intimidation and go straight for blackmail.
"You know," Stone said quietly, "if someone tipped a senator from Massachusetts or a Washington Post reporter that the CIA was conducting operations on home ground, you could be in a world of hurt."
"I could. If I were with the CIA."
"You are. And I'm going to dig until I prove it." Stone paused, drank and added, "Unless I get some cooperation from you."
Catlin smiled faintly. "You can dig until hell freezes solid. I don't belong to anyone anymore. Ask around. They'll tell you the same thing you're going to learn the hard way. I'm as free as any man ever born."
Stone had heard enough truth to recognize it in Catlin's voice. Stone had also heard enough lies never to give up short of absolute certainty. He would keep digging, but he would no longer expect to hit gold. He lit a cigarette, examined his remaining options and sighed.
"Do you trust Yi?" asked Stone.
"I don't have to. I know what he wants. That beats the hell out of trust."
"What does he want?"
"From you? I imagine he'll be happy if you stop crowding him."
Stone grunted. "What does he want from you?"
"A stalking horse that will let him get close to the bronzes without being spotted as a representative of the PRC," Catlin said in the matter-of-fact tone of someone stating an obvious fact.
It was a reasonable lie and might even be part of the truth. In any case, there was no point in telling Stone that Yi wanted a full-time bodyguard for Lindsay Danner, the
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