Class Act

by Stuart Woods

  “You’re on.” Stone hung up. He’d need the alibi.

  49

  Stone and Dino met at the bar, as usual, then half a drink later, asked for their table. They settled in and ordered.

  Dino looked at Stone. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Wrong?”

  “Come on, Stone. You can’t hide it from me.”

  “Hide what from you?”

  “You’re planning to do something you think I wouldn’t like.”

  “That’s a wild guess,” Stone replied.

  “But a good one.”

  Stone shrugged.

  “Why would you hide it from me?”

  “Let me ask you a hypothetical question.”

  “Okay, shoot.”

  “Suppose, for a moment, that I was planning to do something illegal. Would you want to know?”

  Dino drew a big breath. “How illegal?”

  “ ‘Against the law’ illegal. I know you’d try to talk me out of it, but what if you couldn’t?”

  “Huh?”

  “What if you couldn’t talk me out of it? Would you arrest me?”

  “I think I have it,” Dino said.

  “Go ahead, guess.”

  “You’re planning to kill Sal Trafficante, aren’t you?”

  “No, but if he keeps trying to kill me, it may come to that.”

  “Is he trying to kill you now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let me put some people on it.”

  “It’s in another state.”

  “Florida?”

  “I won’t be specific.”

  “Hilda is in Florida. Is she involved in this?”

  “She’s awfully anxious for me to come to Key West.”

  “Then don’t go there.”

  “If I don’t, she’ll find another way. She may even come here to do it. Then I won’t see her coming.”

  “Okay, I see what’s eating you now. You don’t want me to know what you’re planning.”

  “It’s for your own benefit. No reason you should have to share the burden.”

  “Look. If you and Hilda and I were in the same room, and I thought she was going to try to kill you, I’d kill her.”

  “Well, she is going to try. Would you send somebody from New York to take her out before she could take me out?”

  “That’s an impossible situation for me.”

  “That’s why I’m not involving you, Dino. What you don’t know can’t hurt you.”

  Dino shut up and looked around the room. “Is anybody in this room involved?”

  Stone looked around. “No.”

  “So nobody can be listening to us?”

  “I’m not wearing a wire, Dino.”

  “All right, I’ll go down there and kill her myself,” Dino said.

  Stone’s jaw dropped, and he started laughing.

  “What? You think I’m kidding?”

  “I know you’re not kidding, and I love you for it. Listen to me: the best thing you can do for me right now is to forget about this. Put it right out of your mind, and don’t bring it up again. But I don’t know if you’re capable of that.”

  “Of course, I’m capable of that.”

  “Capable of what?”

  “What you just said.”

  “I don’t remember saying anything. What are you talking about, Dino?”

  Dino leaned in close. “Offing two people.”

  “What are you talking about? Why would I want to do that?”

  “You just said . . .” Dino stopped. “All right, I get it.”

  “Get what?”

  “I’ll stay out of it.”

  “Stay out of what?”

  “Whatever you’re doing.”

  “Doing? What am I doing?”

  “Whatever you want to, and with no interference from me.”

  “Sometimes I think you’re completely crazy,” Stone said.

  “Sometimes I think so, too.”

  They talked about other things.

  * * *

  —

  Jack Coulter’s throwaway buzzed in his pocket. “Excuse me for a moment,” he said to Hillary. He left the table and walked around a corner. “Yeah?”

  “I’m leaving the airport,” she said. “I’ll be at the house in ten minutes.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “I’m all set.”

  “Call me as planned.”

  “Sure.”

  They both hung up.

  * * *

  —

  Cara, as she had begun to think of herself, followed the GPS directions to the house and drove up to the keypad and entered the code. The gate swung open, and the garage ahead of her was empty. She drove in, got her bag from the trunk, and rang the bell.

  A smiling woman opened the door. “Cara?”

  “And you’re Hilda.”

  “I am. Come on in, and let me get you a drink.” She led Cara to the bar. “The photo Stone sent me doesn’t do you justice.”

  “Thank you,” Cara said, with a big smile.

  “What would you like?”

  “That’s a leading question, but let’s start with a Scotch on the rocks. Chivas, if you have it.”

  “We have it.” Hilda poured them both a drink.

  “Beautiful place,” Cara said, looking around.

  “I’ll give you the tour.” She did so, then they returned to the bar and Hilda poured another drink for them both. “Oh, I didn’t show you the master bedroom, did I?”

  “No, you didn’t, but I’d like to see it.” She picked up her bag and her drink and followed Hilda down to the end of the main hall, where Hilda opened the door.

  “Ah, nice,” Cara said, dropping her bag and sitting on the bed.

  Hilda sat next to her. “You’re a beautiful girl,” she said.

  “So are you,” Cara replied, bending and kissing her on her bare shoulder. “I think I’d like a shower after my trip,” she said.

  “Would you like me to join you?” Hilda asked.

  “I’d love that.” She undressed and walked into the bathroom.

  “Be right with you,” Hilda called out and got undressed. She bent and unzipped Cara’s Vuitton bag and moved the clothes aside. At the bottom were a silenced pistol and a switchblade knife. She zipped it up, then went into the bathroom, where Cara was already in the shower.

  They kissed, then Cara dragged over a stool from a corner and sat Hilda down. Cara knelt and buried her face in Hilda’s lap.

  Hilda allowed herself to enjoy it to the point of orgasm, then she reached up to the shelf beside her, behind a row of bottles, and removed a kitchen implement.

  Timing her orgasm with her move, she ran her fingers up Cara’s spine until she found the right spot, then in one swift move, plunged the ice pick into her back and her heart. She stood and backed away from Cara, taking the ice pick with her. Cara was on her hands and knees, trying to get up, but she couldn’t make it.

  With the ice pick at the ready, should she need it again, Hilda watched Cara finally collapse to the tiled floor. She turned her over to allow her to bleed out faster. It took no more than half a minute.

  Hilda left her to drain for another minute, then turned off the shower, got out and dried herself. She went back into the bedroom and searched Cara’s bag more thoroughly, finding bundles of hundred-dollar bills.

  Hilda made herself some dinner and poured a glass of wine, thinking about what she would shop for with Cara’s money. She regretted not keeping her alive long enough to learn who had paid her, but there were only two candidates: Sal and Stone Barrington. She wouldn’t have thought Stone had the kind of guts it took to hire a killer, and pay for the job, but it was he who’d sent Cara down. It had to be Sto
ne.

  When she had finished dinner, she rummaged in the garage and found some plastic sheeting and a roll of duct tape. She went back to the bathroom and dragged Cara’s body out of the shower and onto the plastic sheeting, then wrapped her and taped the bundle securely. She checked the shower to be sure that all of the blood had run down the drain, then she laid down a large bath towel and dragged her into the bedroom. She found Cara’s car keys, then dragged the body down the hall and into the garage. She opened the trunk and, with considerable effort, got the body inside and closed it.

  She looked inside and found a rental car agreement: Cara had picked up the car at the Key West airport and was returning it at the Palm Beach airport. She found the rental car map and looked at the drive: seven or eight hours, she reckoned, and her route took her along Alligator Alley, through the Everglades. Cara could take her final dip there.

  Hilda packed her bags, then had a cup of coffee to keep her awake. After a final check of the house to be sure that it was clean of any trace of Cara, she tossed Cara’s bag into the car with her own, then got into the rental, closed the garage door and the gate behind her, and headed up the Keys.

  50

  Jack Coulter lay in his bed and stared at the ceiling. The bedside clock showed 2:45 am, and he was trying to think of a reason why Cara hadn’t called. He thought of calling Stone, but what could he do? He’d just have to wait until morning. And try to sleep.

  * * *

  —

  Hilda drove up the Keys to Key Largo, then turned north and made her way into the Everglades. The moon was bright enough that she could drive with only her side lights on. Somewhere north, she found a dirt road snaking off to her left. She turned on her headlights and drove slowly until she came to a shack on a river. It sported a sign: live bait, and there was a dock beside it where a couple of small boats were moored. She got a small but powerful flashlight from her bag and played it over the water. It was tidal, and the tide was coming in.

  She dragged Cara’s body from the car out onto the dock, then sat and rested for a moment. Next, she ripped off the duct tape, wadded it, and threw it into the water, watching it float upriver with the tide. Finally, she dragged the body to the edge of the dock and rolled it into the water. It went under for a moment, then floated to the top. When it emerged, it was a few feet upstream, then it kept going. Hilda heard a couple of splashes from farther up, then some thrashing.

  She then carefully folded the plastic sheeting, found some stacked bricks beside the shed, put three of them into Cara’s bag, and tossed it into the water. She got back into the car and retraced her steps to U.S. 1. After she had passed Cutler Bay, she stopped at a convenience store, used the restroom, then filled up with gas. While the pump was running she took the folded plastic sheeting from the trunk and deposited it in the trash can. Then she was on her way to the Florida Turnpike, thence to West Palm Beach and the airport. She turned in the rental car, paid cash. Then she booked herself on the next flight to New York and had some breakfast, thinking about shopping.

  * * *

  —

  Stone was awakened early by his ringing phone. Dino, he reckoned. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, Stone, it’s Jack Coulter.”

  “Oh, hello, Jack.”

  “There’s a problem.”

  “What?”

  “Our girl didn’t phone last night. I tried her this morning, but it went straight to voicemail.”

  Stone was quiet for a moment.

  “Have you heard from her or from Hilda?”

  “No, neither.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything more we can do until we hear from one of them,” Jack said.

  “I agree.”

  “Let’s talk after we get a call.”

  They both hung up.

  * * *

  —

  Stone spent his usual morning at his desk, then around noon, his cell phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Hi, it’s Hilda.”

  “Good morning. Did you and Cara have a pleasant evening?”

  “She never showed. I was disappointed. Has she called you?”

  “No, I’ve heard nothing,” Stone said.

  “I took a morning flight to New York. Would you like to get together?”

  “No, I can’t, until tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow night, then?”

  “Sure. What’s your number?”

  “I’ve got a new throwaway.” She gave him the number.

  “Are you going to see Sal while you’re here?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t particularly want to.”

  “All right. Where are you staying?”

  “At the Carlyle. They give me the rack rate for a suite.”

  “I’ll pick you up at the Seventy-Sixth Street entrance at seven, then.”

  “Good. We can come back to the Carlyle later.”

  “Great. Bye.”

  Stone hung up and called Jack.

  “Hello, Stone.”

  “I just had a call from Hilda. She said that Cara never showed. Hilda’s in New York now. We made a date for tomorrow night.”

  “I wouldn’t keep it, if I were you. If Hilda’s alive, that tells you she knows everything.”

  “That thought didn’t occur to me.”

  “Look at it this way: you’ve got two women who met last night, both of whom are contract killers, and one of them is missing.”

  “You have a point,” Stone said.

  “I figure Cara made a move, but Hilda got there first. Now Hilda is going to be wondering who sent her.”

  “Well, yes.”

  “I don’t think you would survive another session in bed with Hilda.”

  Stone gulped.

  “Do you know where Hilda is staying?”

  “In a suite at the Carlyle.”

  “That’s a little expensive for a single person, isn’t it?”

  “She performs there sometimes. She says they give her a rate.”

  “Of course. And if I’m thinking correctly, she’ll have your twenty-five thousand dollars.”

  “Yes, I suppose.”

  “I think your next move should be out of town,” Jack said.

  “I’ll think about that,” Stone replied.

  “Let’s talk when you’ve figured out your next move.”

  “Good.” They both hung up.

  Stone called Dino.

  “Bacchetti.”

  “We need to talk,” Stone said, “and not on the phone.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I need some advice. Dinner at Patroon, seven o’clock?”

  “Okay. Viv’s out of town.”

  “Good.”

  Stone hung up, relieved. He didn’t want to explain any of this to Viv.

  He tried to put himself in Hilda’s position. What would she do next? If he didn’t show for dinner tomorrow night, she’d smell a rat, and that would be him.

  Maybe he should talk to Jack again, before it came to that. Jack seemed to be full of ideas, even if the last one hadn’t worked so well.

  51

  Stone arrived before Dino, and the waiter automatically brought him a Knob Creek. He looked around the room and saw one or two people he knew, but no one of consequence. Then he was startled to find Dino at his elbow.

  Dino sat down. “You look even worse than the last time I saw you,” he said.

  “That’s because things are worse.”

  “Did you have Hilda dealt with?”

  “A friend of mine has a friend, who does that sort of work. It was arranged for the two of them to meet at the Key West house. She was supposed to call my friend when the work was finished.”

  “And she didn’t call?”

  “No, and she’s not answering her phone, either. I spoke
to Hilda, and she said the woman never showed.”

  Dino thought about that for a minute. “Where do murderers in Key West dispose of bodies?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “You read the local paper when you’re there. They publish that sort of information.”

  “In the water, I guess. It’s an island. It’s surrounded by water.”

  Dino got out his cell phone. “What’s the name of the newspaper?”

  “The Key West Citizen. A body in the water would make the front page, and the story would be continued on the last page.”

  Dino went to work with his thumbs. “Nothing,” he said. “How about a newspaper with a wider coverage?”

  “Miami, I guess. The Herald?”

  Dino typed some more, then he stopped. “Uh-oh.”

  “What?”

  Dino started scrolling down. “Parts of a woman’s body were found up a creek in the Everglades.”

  “Which parts?”

  “It doesn’t say, just that they belonged to a whole woman at some point.”

  “Are they thinking alligators?”

  “From what I hear, gators are very helpful when it comes to converting bodies into body parts.”

  “Well, she can be identified with DNA,” Stone said.

  “You got any DNA?”

  “No, I’ve never met her.” He dug out his iPhone and found the photo.

  “Hey, nice body parts!” Dino said. “A shame to rearrange them.”

  Stone called Jack. “Google the Miami Herald front page,” he said.

  “Give me a minute,” Jack responded, then he came back. “Can you zoom in close on what looks like a left hand?”

  “I’ll try.” Stone enlarged the Herald photo. “Looks like a little gold ring on the pinkie.”

  “Now do the same with the photo I sent you.”

  Stone managed the operation. “I can’t get any real detail, but they’re both small and gold and on the same finger.”

  “Cara, let’s call her, wore a little gold signet ring on that finger. She said Tiffany’s had it made for her; a family crest.”