Hot Mahogany

by Stuart Woods

  “I guess it couldn’t hurt,” she admitted.

  “I wouldn’t want him to get mad and take it out on the law firm; he’s an important client. Let him down easy, will you? Let your Swedish side handle it, not your Italian side. The stiletto wouldn’t look nice, protruding from between his shoulder blades. Figuratively speaking.”

  “You’re a card.”

  “It was your line.”

  “See you Sunday at three.” She hung up.

  Joan buzzed him.

  “Yes?”

  “Lance Cabot on line two.”

  Stone picked up the phone. “Hello, Lance.”

  “It’s Holly,” she said. “Hang on, I’ll get him for you.”

  “Did you enjoy your stay in Connecticut?”

  “Not so much, after you left.”

  “A man’s gotta work.”

  “A woman, too. Hang on for Lance.” She put him on hold.

  He was on hold for an annoyingly long time before Lance spoke. “Stone?”

  “Yes, Lance.”

  “Sorry to keep you waiting. I plead national security.”

  “You must be a Republican.”

  “I don’t do politics; it’s bad policy in my line of work.”

  “I agree.”

  “I want to thank you for looking in on Barton. I’m much relieved to know that he’s doing better.”

  “Better, except he still can’t remember the assault.”

  “That’s understandable. I once took a cricket bat to the head and didn’t remember twelve hours. Still don’t.”

  “I didn’t know cricket was a contact sport.”

  “The incident did not take place on a cricket pitch,” Lance said,

  “and the batter was a woman.”

  Stone chuckled in spite of himself. Lance didn’t have much of a sense of humor, usually. “Lance, what do you know about Abner Kramer?”

  “Financial bigwig, Democratic Party contributor; rumors about a cabinet post, if Will Lee gets reelected.”

  “I can read that in the Times. I’d expect more from a highly placed member of the intelligence community.”

  “It’s all I need to know about him.”

  “You might need to know more.”

  “Why?”

  “He and Barton had a brief exchange about the mahogany secretary when we saw him in a restaurant in Connecticut.”

  “Oh yes, I hear you were breaking and entering up there.”

  “Kramer wants to buy the secretary from Barton. Did Holly tell you about the empty space in his study? Just the right size for the secretary.”

  “But it was an empty space, not a piece of furniture.”

  “It crossed my mind that, if Barton wouldn’t sell it, Kramer might want it anyway. You know that he and Barton did some business when they were in the Marines.”

  “I heard. I’ll put out a couple of feelers on Kramer.”

  “I’d especially like to know if he’s had any shady dealings the past few years.”

  “I expect the president might like to know that, too.”

  “That’s up to you.”

  “Anything else you need?”

  “Well, there’s a character named Charlie Crow, who was part of the Marine unit, too, and another named Harry Collins; everybody else is dead.”

  “You left out your friend, Cantor.”

  “I know enough about him.”

  “Okay, I’ll put Holly on it.”

  “Thanks. I think that could be helpful. Barton liked Holly a lot.”

  “My brother was always fond of the ladies, and Holly corresponds to a type I used to see him with.”

  “Did that cross your mind when you sent her to Connecticut?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “You’re getting as bad as Barton. I hope his memory isn’t as selective.”

  “You think he’s holding out on us, Stone?”

  “I think he’s a craftier man than he lets on.”

  “He is that.”

  “Lance, how hard did you try to find him during your years apart?”

  “Hard at first; after I was transferred to London, less hard. I didn’t use agency resources, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Why would he want to stay out of touch with his younger brother?”

  “I haven’t asked him that.”

  Maybe you wouldn’t like the answer, Stone thought. He said good-bye and hung up.

  28

  Stone and Dino were still on their first drink when Bob Cantor walked into Elaine’s.

  “Hey, Bob,” Dino said. “It’s after dark, and you’re out of your coffin!”

  “Very funny. I usually work at night, you know.”

  “My very point,” Dino said.

  “It is unusual to see you in here,” Stone pointed out.

  “I live downtown, okay? I hate the subway, cabs are expensive and there’s never any parking around here, except at twenty bucks an hour.”

  “All good reasons,” Stone said.

  Cantor took out a small tape player and handed Stone an earpiece. “I wanted you to hear this,” he said.

  Stone listened to the lunchtime conversation, then handed the earpiece back to Cantor.

  “Don’t I get to hear?” Dino asked. “I’m on the team, too, you know.”

  “He is?” Cantor asked.

  “He is,” Stone replied. “Why does Charlie want to have a reunion?”

  “Dunno,” Cantor said. “Maybe he’s getting all sentimental in his old age, but I doubt it.”

  “But what would he have to gain by getting you, Ab Kramer and Harry Collins together all in one place?”

  “You’re forgetting the Colonel.”

  “Him, too.”

  “I can’t think of any reason, and I doubt Charlie plans to do it. It would be like him to suggest the opposite of what he intends to do.”

  “Okay,” Stone said. “Suppose he beat up the Colonel and took his mahogany secretary. He’s already got it, so what does he want to do, gloat?”

  “Ransom it,” Dino said. “He’ll say he knows somebody who can get it back for half what it’s worth. That way, he makes a quick twelve million, and the Colonel sells it and gets the rest.”

  “That sounds like Charlie,” Cantor said. “It’s what he would do.”

  “On the tape,” Stone said, “he says he bears no hard feelings about the gold coin thing that you and the Colonel profited from. Does that sound like him?”

  “No, it doesn’t; Charlie would hold a grudge forever.”

  “Wait a minute,” Dino said, “what’s this about a gold coin?”

  Stone gave him a quick version of the story.

  “Ah,” Dino said, “if he’s got the secretary, and he found the die in the drawer, then he can afford to be magnanimous about the coin deal, since he’s in a position to make his own coin and repeat the deal.”

  “That makes a lot of sense,” Stone said.

  Cantor shook his head. “Just because Charlie had the die wouldn’t make him magnanimous; he would want to gloat. No, all this seems logical, but it’s not right. It’s not Charlie. He doesn’t want the reunion; he wants something else.”

  “Wants what?” Stone asked.

  “Who knows? It could be something completely off the wall.”

  “Maybe he wants to impress the Colonel with how well he’s done over the years,” Stone said.

  Cantor nodded. “Now that makes sense, showing off for the Colonel. Funny, though, he didn’t mention the Colonel. I brought up his name.”

  “Did you agree to the reunion?” Dino asked.

  “Yeah, I said okay,” Cantor replied.

  “Dino,” Stone said, “have your people tailed Charlie Crow yet?”

  “Yep,” Dino said. “In fact, they planted a very nice little GPS device on the Rolls. I can follow it on any laptop.”

  “Dino, you said you weren’t going to put anything on a computer.”

  “Nah, this device is off the books, an
d so is the website that tracks it.”

  “So, where’d he go?”

  “His lawyer’s office, for a little over three hours, then his own office, then home. He and his wife ordered in Chinese.”

  “Pretty dull life,” Cantor said.

  “Yeah,” Stone agreed, “but I wonder about the trip to his lawyer’s office. Two hours is a long time for a client to sit with his lawyer. Three is forever.”

  “Maybe he’s got a deal cooking,” Dino offered.

  “Still, three hours is a long time. I can’t ever remember meeting with a client for three hours.”

  “Yeah,” Dino said, “but it’s hard to spend three hours talking about a DUI or a divorce. Crow has a business, remember?”

  “My clients have businesses, too,” Stone said defensively. “I met with Harlan Deal yesterday, and it didn’t take three hours.”

  “Harlan Deal is your client?” Dino asked.

  “He is.” Long pause. “Well, I consulted on a matter.”

  “For how long?”

  “Well, the meeting lasted only a few minutes, but I had to spend several hours sewing up everything.”

  “Sewing up what?” Dino asked.

  “That’s privileged,” Stone replied. “Let’s just say that I completed a negotiation that Harlan couldn’t, and in the process, I saved him a substantial chunk of his fortune.”

  “That sounds like a paternity suit,” Dino said.

  “It was a good deal more important than that,” Stone replied, “and I think I can safely say that the outcome was favorable for all concerned, including me.”

  “How was it favorable for you?” Dino asked.

  “Harlan sent me a check for twenty-five grand this morning by messenger.”

  “Now I’m impressed,” Dino said.

  “Me, too,” echoed Cantor.

  “And well you should be,” Stone said, drawing himself up to his full height. “Harlan certainly was.”

  “Is that what you call him? Harlan? Not Mr. Deal?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “And what does he call you?”

  “He calls me Mr. Barrington.”

  “Sounds a little standoffish,” Cantor said.

  “Our relationship is perfectly cordial,” Stone replied.

  “I thought maybe this had something to do with that story in the Times business section this morning,” Dino said.

  “His acquisition of the aircraft-leasing company? That was the icing on the cake. Harlan had a good day.”

  Cantor, who was sitting facing the door, suddenly sat up.

  Stone and Dino followed his gaze to the bar. A heavyset, florid-faced man was taking a stool.

  “What?” Stone asked.

  “I’d swear to God that’s Harry Collins,” Cantor said.

  “Who?” Dino asked.

  “The other guy from the Colonel’s old outfit. Charlie mentioned seeing him at the track. I mean, he’s gained a lot of weight, but I think that’s Harry.”

  “Now that’s interesting,” Stone said. “First Charlie Crow walks into P. J. Clarke’s when you’re there, and now Harry Collins walks into Elaine’s when you’re here. And you’re hardly ever here.”

  “Well, I’m not speaking to him,” Cantor said. “I’ll leave that to Charlie.” He picked up a menu and ordered dinner; they all did. By the time their first course arrived, Harry Collins had finished his drink and left.

  29

  Stone was throwing a few things in a bag on Sunday afternoon, getting ready to pick up Carla for their trip to Connecticut, when his phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Eggers.” He sounded dour.

  “Hi, Bill. What has you making phone calls on a Sunday?”

  “I had lunch with Harlan Deal.”

  “That sounds like a reason for indigestion, not a Sunday phone call.”

  “His girlfriend dumped him,” Eggers said.

  “The one who signed the prenup?”

  “The very one.”

  “Well, the poor guy.”

  “He blames you.”

  “Hey, wait a minute. I got her to agree to the prenup; I didn’t sign on to see that they lived happily ever after.”

  “Harlan says he’s heard about your reputation with women, and he thinks you stole her.”

  “What reputation with women? Usually, I get dumped!”

  “What happened to that emergency room doctor you were going out with?”

  “A perfect example,” Stone said. “A couple of weeks ago, she called and said she had to talk to me right away.”

  “Sounds like she was pregnant.”

  “That crossed my mind, but it wasn’t what was on hers. We met for lunch, and she broke the news to me that she’d been seeing a doctor at her hospital and that he had asked her to marry him.”

  “Sounds like the signal for you to jump in and see the doc’s raise.”

  “Well, I wasn’t quite up to seeing the doctor’s raise, and, anyway, it wasn’t a card game.”

  “Did you think she was bluffing?”

  “That crossed my mind, too, but like I said, it wasn’t a card game.”

  “So how did you handle the doc’s raise?”

  “Since it wasn’t a card game, I wished the two of them every possible happiness.”

  “Now, that sounds like a bluff.”

  “Why are you poker-obsessed today?”

  “I know a poker game when I see one. Did she call your bluff?”

  “She pecked me on the cheek, said it had been fun and left the restaurant.”

  “So she called your bluff.”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “Did you run after her?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Why not?”

  “I hadn’t paid the check. And it took a few minutes to get it out of the waiter.”

  “Plenty of time for her to marry the doc.”

  “Figuratively speaking, I suppose so.”

  “Heard from her since?”

  “No.”

  “Have you called her?”

  “Ah, no.”

  “Game over.”

  “Not until she marries the doc.”

  “How do you know she hasn’t?”

  “Because Dino’s girl, Genevieve, works with her at the hospital, and she would have told Dino, and since Dino loves to gloat, he would have told me.”

  “So you’re sure she hasn’t married the doc?”

  “Not absolutely entirely.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Dino’s girl isn’t speaking to him right now.”

  “Why not?”

  “He has no idea.”

  “She won’t tell him?”

  “No.”

  “I’ve played that game and lost,” Eggers said. “What’s he going to do about it?”

  “He’s afraid to do anything, and he won’t take my advice.”

  “Which is?”

  “Pretend nothing has happened, and call her and ask her to dinner.”

  “That’s not bad,” Eggers said, a touch of admiration in his voice.

  “I thought it was pretty good.”

  “If it’s such good advice, why don’t you follow it yourself?”

  “You mean call Dr. Eliza and just ask her to dinner, as if nothing has happened?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she’s decided to marry another guy.”

  “No she hasn’t.”

  “Haven’t you listened to anything I’ve said to you?”

  “Sure I have. She told you another guy has asked her to marry him; she didn’t say she’d said yes, did she?”

  “Well…”

  “Well, what?”

  “Shut up. I’m mentally reviewing the conversation.”

  Eggers was quiet for three seconds. “So?”

  “Well, maybe she didn’t say exactly that, but I think I’m entitled to
draw that inference.”

  “This isn’t a dispute over a contract, Stone.”

  “Well, in a way it is.”

  “You didn’t have a contract with her, did you? Either written or implied?”

  “Well, she must have thought so, because she felt it necessary to report this proposal of marriage to me.”

  “Listen,” Eggers said, “I’m getting lost here. What was your original point?”

  “I don’t remember,” Stone said. “What was the original question?”

  “Uh… oh, the question was Harlan Deal’s.”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “I think it was more of a contention than a question. He thinks you stole his girl.”

  “I wasn’t hired not to steal his girl, was I?”

  “You mean you stole his girl?”

  “Certainly not. In no way, shape or form.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a complete denial to me.”

  “What kind of denial would you like?”

  “Answer the question directly: Did you steal his girl?”

  “No.”

  “You’re sure.”

  “Bill, if the girl decided to dump Harlan, it wasn’t because I got her to.”

  “What did you advise her to do?”

  “My only advice to her was to read the prenup and consult a lawyer before signing.”

  “Did she consult a lawyer?”

  “Well, she says she did.”

  “Where were you at the time?”

  “At a table at Bemelmens Bar at the Carlyle.”

  “Was another lawyer sitting at the table?”

  “No.”

  “So the lawyer she consulted was you?”

  “That would be a conflict of interest, Bill.”

  “It certainly would, Stone. Did you advise her to dump Harlan?”

  “Certainly not! Why would I do that? Marrying Harlan looked like a pretty good deal to me.”

  “Did you tell her that?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe you should have.”

  “I couldn’t give her advice, Bill; she wasn’t my client.”

  “And what, exactly, is she to you?”

  “Harlan Deal’s ex-girlfriend, what else?”

  “Which is a good enough reason for you to steal her from Harlan.”

  “If she had already dumped him, she couldn’t be stolen, could she?”

  “This conversation is exhausting me,” Eggers said.

  “Me, too.”