by Stuart Woods
—
FRED CHECKED UPSTAIRS and found the cart with the four pictures on it, then he looked into the kitchen before he called. Nobody there. He called Stone’s cell number and got an answer after four rings.
“What?” Stone demanded.
“We’ve had an intrusion,” Fred said calmly. “I put a bullet into one of them, but he kept running. They both made it out of the house. They were after your mother’s pictures, had four of them on a cart, but they left everything behind. Shall I call nine-one-one?”
“No, but the police will be there soon. Get your story straight before they come.” Stone hung up.
“Yes, sir!” Fred said into the dead phone.
—
SID FINALLY FOUND a pay phone in a candy store two blocks away and made the call, then he waited at the service door to his building, and four minutes later a Strategic Services van pulled up, and a man got out.
“I’m locked out,” Sid said.
“So I hear. I’ve got a master key.” He unlocked the door and Sid ran for his monitoring room. A light was flashing that told him an alarm had gone off at the Barrington residence. He tapped in the code and brought up the cameras at the scene. A small man was sitting at Barrington’s office desk; he appeared to be checking his e-mail on his iPhone. He called the number and got an answer.
“You’re a little late, aren’t you?”
“Technical difficulties,” Sid replied. “Do you require assistance?”
“Negative,” Fred said, then hung up.
—
STONE FOUND DINO talking to a beautiful actress, who was a guest at the party. Viv was across the room talking to somebody else. He beckoned to Dino.
“What’s up?” Dino asked.
“Two intruders at my house. Fred winged one of them, but they both got away.”
Dino sighed and pulled out his cell phone. “That’s the last time I’ll ever see that gorgeous woman.” He pressed a cell phone button. “This is Bacchetti. I need a pair of uniforms and a team of detectives in Turtle Bay.” He gave them the address. “They’ll find a Fred Flicker there. He belongs, so tell them not to give him a hard time.” He hung up. The actress was across the room, talking to two other men. “Shit.”
50
MIKE FREEMAN came over to where Stone and Dino stood. “You two look a little tense,” he said.
“We’ve had a pair of intruders at my house,” Stone replied. “They were after pictures, but Fred Flicker disturbed them and put a bullet into one of them before they made their escape into the back garden.”
Dino’s cell rang. “Bacchetti. Yeah, well, alert all the emergency rooms on the East Side. If a man comes in with a bullet wound, tell ’em to call us.” He hung up. “My people are at your place, listening to Fred’s story. They appear to like it.”
“Well, then,” Mike said, “you can both return to being guests, instead of looking like the Mod Squad.”
“Right,” Dino said. “We’re not going to hear anything more, unless some guy turns up in an ER with a gunshot wound. Excuse me, there’s somebody I want to talk to.” He went in search of the actress.
—
SOFIA/MARIA DROVE CAREFULLY. “All right, Irv, I’m dropping you at the ER entrance of Lenox Hill Hospital. In the meantime, try not to bleed on the seat. I’ll have to clean it up before I return the van.”
“You mean it’s not stolen?” Irv asked.
“Thank your lucky stars—it means the police aren’t looking for it.”
“I haven’t been paid,” Irv said.
“That’s because the alarm went off,” Curly pointed out. “It was your job to make that not happen, and you blew it.”
“Give me the money, Marv,” she said, stopping at a traffic light. She took the envelope, gave Irv a thousand for the hospital bill, and dropped the rest into her bag. “Irv, whatever you do, don’t let a doctor admit you. The police will get around to checking the hospitals, and you don’t want to be there when they arrive. Get some stitches, a bandage, and an antibiotic, and get the hell out of there.”
“Shit,” Irv said.
“Well, yeah,” Maria replied. She drew to a halt. “That’s the door, there, in the middle of the block. Tell the ER nurse that you were working late at a machine shop, and you fell onto a running drill.”
“Oh, yeah,” Irv said, “that’s plausible.”
“Then write your own script, but don’t let the words ‘gunshot wound’ pass your lips. Got it?”
Irv got out and slammed the door, then began limping toward the door. Maria put the van in gear and departed. She drove Curly back to his apartment and stopped out front. “Did you bring the cart with you?”
“No, but I wiped it clean before, so it won’t have any prints.”
“Where did you buy it?”
“At a hardware store uptown.”
“Get out of the car, Marv.”
“Yeah, see you later.”
Sofia drove away, “Sure, the hell you will.” Her packed bag was in the rear of the van. She drove the vehicle to New Jersey, out toward Newark Airport, and stopped at an all-night, self-service car wash, where she used the pressure washer where Irv had bled on the rear seat, then hosed down the rubber mats and the carpet. She drove to the airport, noted the mileage and time on the rental receipt, and handed it in to Hertz. “This wasn’t supposed to be a drop-off,” she told the man in charge. “It just worked out that way. Charge me, if you have to.” She paid him in cash, took the shuttle to the terminal, and looked for a Fort Lauderdale flight. She had to wait only forty minutes before it boarded.
“Well, fuck you permanently, Marv, for bungling the job,” she said aloud to herself. “At least I only lost a thousand bucks.”
—
DINO HUNG UP HIS PHONE. “My detectives missed the guy by ten minutes at Lenox Hill. He’d been shot in the ass and told the ER nurse he fell onto a drill. Can you believe she bought that?”
“Yes,” Stone said. “She was probably at the end of her shift and didn’t want to do the paperwork for a gunshot wound.”
“You guys lead interesting lives,” the beautiful actress said. “Are you married?”
“He is,” Stone said, pointing at Dino. “And she’s standing over there by the piano. The redhead in the blue dress.”
She took Stone’s arm and pulled him toward the bar. “Let’s get another drink, then you can tell me about yourself.”
“Actually, I’m with the other redhead at the piano, the one Dino’s wife is talking to.”
She recovered her arm. “Big girl, isn’t she?”
“Yes, and tough, too.”
“Nice meeting you.” She wandered off into the crowd.
Holly came over. “Who just dismissed who in that conversation?”
“It was mutual,” Stone replied.
“I’m proud of you. What the hell is going on with you and Dino, anyway?”
“We had a break-in at the house. Fred winged one of them, but they got away. Dino’s people nearly caught him at the ER, but missed him by minutes.”
“Did you lose anything?”
“No. They wanted my mother’s pictures, can you imagine that?”
“Well, yes, they’re very fine pictures.”
“But how would a burglar know I had them and, moreover, what they’re worth? I find that extremely odd.”
“Google yourself, and I’ll bet you’ll find a mention of the pictures and their value.”
“God, it’s that easy to plan a crime these days?”
Laurence came over with Theresa and another young man. “Stone, you know Theresa.”
“Of course. Theresa, this is Holly Barker.”
“And this is my brother, Butch Crane,” Theresa said.
Stone shook the young man’s hand. “Butch, good to meet you.”<
br />
“Butch has pretty much replaced me at Ralph Lauren. He’s doing very well there.”
“Good for you, Butch.”
“Thanks very much.” Butch handed him a card. “Stop in and see me when you’re in the store. I’ll see you’re well taken care of.” He handed Holly a card, too. “And you, as well, Holly.”
“I’ll do that,” Holly said, tucking the card into her bra.
“You throw a good party, Laurence,” Stone said.
“No, Mike Freeman does. I only provided the stage for his performance.”
Mike came over. “I talked to my people. They’ve got videotape of your break-in. One of them was the same guy who did it before, one Marvin Jones. The other is a fresh face, fresh out of the joint, named Irving Schwartz. Dino’s people are looking for him.”
“Excuse me,” Butch said abruptly. “There’s somebody I want to speak to.” A moment later, he appeared beside the beautiful actress.
51
THERESA FOUND BUTCH talking to the actress and pulled him aside.
“Listen,” he said, “I’m busy right now.”
“Too busy to accept a gift?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound huffy.”
She took an envelope from her bag. “I’m proud of how well you’re doing, little brother. Every time I see someone from the store I hear compliments.”
“I’m delighted to hear it. I’m working hard and enjoying every day.”
She handed him the envelope. “This is for doing well and making me proud.”
Butch opened the envelope and found the documents transferring title of her apartment to him.
“Good God, sis, this is fantastic.”
“It’s paid for—no mortgage payments, just property taxes. It’s all explained in the documents. Pay your bills on time and soon you’ll have a credit rating. Every grown-up needs a good one.”
Butch embraced her. “Thank you for taking such good care of me. It’s a whole new world, and all because of you.”
“Just keep making me proud. And by the way, Laurence paid off my mortgage. That’s why I can give you the place. He would be embarrassed if you thanked him, but I wanted you to know.” She was pulled away by another guest, leaving Butch alone.
Butch walked over to the fireplace and warmed his butt against the flames. He couldn’t believe how well things were going, except for one thing: Curly. He had heard Dino mention Marvin Jones, and he knew who that was. He couldn’t believe the guy had tried to burgle Stone’s house.
His thoughts were interrupted by the actress, who handed him a drink. “Single malt, wasn’t it?”
“You’re the most beautiful bartender I’ve ever seen,” he replied, sipping his drink. “Do you live in New York?”
“I live a couple of floors down in this building,” she said.
“How convenient.”
“Do you live here?”
“No, this is my sister’s place, with her boyfriend.”
“Ah, Laurence.”
“Right. I have a place a little farther uptown.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Ralph Lauren.”
“Personally?”
“The company. I’m managing a couple of departments now,” he lied, “but they tell me I’m destined for greater things.”
“I’m sure you are. When this party wraps, why don’t you stop by my place for a nightcap?”
“What a good idea.”
She squeezed his hand. “I have a few more bases to touch. I’ll see you a little later.”
Laurence came over. “Having a good time, I see.”
“The best evening of my life,” Butch said. “I want to thank you for everything you’re doing for Theresa.”
“That reminds me,” Laurence said. “I have to say a few words to the crowd, and I see that Mike is setting me up.”
There was the tinkle of a knife on crystal, and the group fell quiet.
“Good evening, all,” Mike said. “On behalf of Strategic Services, I want to welcome you to our party, held at the home of our client Laurence Hayward.”
Applause.
“I just thought I’d mention that another client of ours, who, in line with our policy of client privacy, shall remain nameless, had intruders in his home earlier this evening, and they were caught on a camera system that we installed earlier this week, thus preventing the loss of some very valuable art.”
More applause.
“And now, our cohost has a few words to say to you.” He stepped aside and brought Laurence forward.
“Good evening,” Laurence said, waving Theresa to his side. “I want to welcome you to our home. It’s good for a new boy in town to make some friends. I also want to announce that Theresa Crane and I are going to be married quite soon, as soon as my accountant and attorney can agree on which state we should be in when the wedding occurs.”
Applause and laughter.
“And, finally, I want to say that you are all welcome in our home at any time.”
More applause.
Laurence and Theresa began accepting congratulations as people approached them.
Butch gave his sister a thumbs-up from across the room. The actress ambled over.
“Ready to get out of here?”
“All set.”
He followed her to the door, and they took the elevator down two floors, where she let them into her apartment. It was smaller than Laurence’s but beautifully done up. “Are you spending much time in New York?”
“I’m starting to shoot a new dramatic series for television here early next month,” she said. “We have high hopes for it, so, with a little luck, I expect to be in the city for several years. That’s why I bought and decorated this apartment.”
“That’s very good news,” Butch said. “New York will be a better place for having you here.”
She moved closer to him. “I feel like celebrating.” She kissed him lightly.
“How can I help?”
“Follow me,” she replied, taking his hand. “You haven’t seen my bedroom yet.”
“I can’t wait.”
52
CURLY HAD FALLEN into bed still dressed after Maria had dropped him off, and now he woke, vaguely disoriented. “Maria!” he called. He wanted breakfast, and he had grown accustomed to her making it. It was past ten o’clock, and he was hungry.
He looked around the apartment for her and noticed that her suitcase was gone from the closet, and so were the clothes that had been hanging there. It took a moment for him to realize that Maria had decamped.
He didn’t even know if Maria was her name; all he knew was that she lived in Florida, and that was a big state. He had her cell number, but it was a throwaway. He also knew that he was very close to flat broke. He had been counting on the Barrington score to refresh his cash flow, and that hadn’t happened. His rent was due in a couple of days, and his electricity bill was already overdue. He picked up his phone and called Butch.
“Hello?”
“It’s me. We need to talk.”
There was a long silence before Butch spoke again. “It’ll have to be late tonight. I have obligations until then.”
“Right now will do nicely.”
“One AM at the band shell in Central Park, near that bench we sat on. Take it or leave it.”
“Okay, okay.”
Butch hung up. Curly thought he was getting a little too big for his britches; tonight he would have to trim the boy’s wick a little, teach him who was still boss.
—
THE ACTRESS’S NAME was Brooke Taylor, and Butch treated her to lunch at the new Ralph Lauren restaurant in the Fifty-fifth Street store. His bosses wouldn’t complain about his spending time with a celebrity, who might become a major customer.
“What
a beautiful room,” she said, looking around.
“Would you like a glass of wine with lunch?”
“No, I have to watch my weight. I’ve no time to lose pounds before we begin production.”
He ordered mineral water for them both.
“Last night was a lovely evening,” he said, “particularly the very last part of it.”
“I thought so, too.”
“Once you start shooting, what will your schedule be like?”
“When we’re shooting interiors I start at nine—it’s in my contract—and I don’t work after six, except for night exteriors. When we shoot morning exteriors, it’s likely that I’ll be speaking lines by seven AM. It’s a thing about the light.”
“I’m just figuring out how I can spend as much time as possible with you without exhausting you.”
“If I’m in bed by ten—and asleep by midnight—I’ll be fresh as a daisy when the car comes for me.”
“Now that’s a schedule I can live with.”
“But not when we’re doing morning exteriors. I have to be asleep early on those days.”
“I can live with that.”
“Good, because you’ll have to. This is going to be a career-making series for me, and I’m not going to screw it up just to get laid.”
“And I wouldn’t allow you to, on my account. I want to see you happy at all times.”
“And if the series goes the way I think it will, then I will be happy. The writing is outstanding, and the production values will be deluxe. My set apartment is almost as nice as the one I live in.”
“Which is very nice indeed. I compliment you on your taste and style.”
They ordered lunch and both made do with a salad.
“Where did you get your schooling?” she asked at one point.
“Groton and Yale,” he replied truthfully, not mentioning his graduate course in being a convict. Then he reconsidered. “There’s something you should know about me, and you’d better know it now.”
