by Stuart Woods
Yes, you were, Paul, but you're not out of the woods yet.
What do you mean? Ginsky asked.
Ed, your client participated in four transactions in Virginia and Maryland a while back that you don't know about and don't want to know about. But I know about them, Paul, and I'm happy to tell you that you left a fingerprint on a note you handed somebody. I've never expected you to adhere voluntarily to the terms of the agreement you signed, so let's just call this insurance.
It sounds a lot more like blackmail, Ginsky said.
That's exactly what it is, Ed. Paul, if you ever so much as speak to Allison again, Stone said, ignoring the attorney and speaking directly to his client, one phone call will make you a fugitive again. On the other hand, if you keep your word, you're in no jeopardy.
I don't know what he's talking about, Ed, Manning said.
Sure you do, Paul, and Ed shouldn't know. But I know, and don't you ever forget it. Ed, thanks for handling this so well. Paul, you can go fuck yourself.
Stone turned and walked away.
Stone drove Liz back to the yacht, feeling relieved and relaxed for the first time since he had arrived in Palm Beach. His relief lasted only until he walked up the gangplank.
A short, stocky man with iron-gray hair, wearing slacks and some kind of Cuban or Filipino shirt, stood up from a chair, where he had been sitting next to Dino. Are you Stone Barrington? he asked.
That's right, Stone replied.
The man didn't offer his hand. My name is Guido. A friend of yours sent me. As he spoke, a puff breeze blew the loose shirt against his body, revealing the outline of a pistol at his waist.
It took Stone a second to register what the man had said and to interpret it. He looked at Dino questioningly.
Yeah, that friend, Dino said.
Oh, sorry. What can I do for you, Guido?
Guido looked around at the other people. Can we talk?
Let's go into the garden, Stone said, leading the way off the yacht and to a bench among some flowers. Okay, he said, tell me.
I'm here to bring the lady in question home.
All right, Stone said.
Where is she?
Did you talk to Dino about this?
He didn't seem too interested in talking to me.
She's moving from hotel to hotel, every day, Stone said. We know she's already been to the Breakers and the Brazilian Court.
How many hotels in this burg? Guido asked.
Lots.
Anything else you can tell me?
She may be driving a silver Volvo sedan, but I can't swear to that.
That ain't much, Guido said.
I know, but it's all I've got. Do you have any help?
I got a couple guys and a Lear waiting at the airport with a doctor and a nurse.
Good. Want some advice?
Why not?
She seems to have been following me. I suggest you follow me, too, but from a distance.
Yeah, that sounds good.
Do you know her?
Since she was in diapers; I used to change them.
She knows you, then?
Oh, yeah; since she's old enough to talk she's called me Uncle Guido.
Well, Guido, if she's that fond of you, she might not be so inclined to take a shot at you.
Guido nodded solemnly. And she's a hell of a shot, he said. I know. I taught her in her papa's basement, when she was fourteen.
I noticed you're carrying, Stone said.
Guido threw up his hands. Don't worry, I'm not here to off her. Those are not my instructions.
Stone didn't doubt that if those were his instructions, Guido would carry them out with alacrity. I'm glad to hear it, he said. Suppose you see her? How are you going to handle this?
Decisively, Guido said. I'm not here to fuck around.
Are the people with you good?
The best. They'd do anything for the old man.
I suggest you lose the hardware. If I can spot it, anybody can spot it, and the local cops aren't going to take kindly to out-of-towners packing iron on their streets.
What are the local cops like? Guido asked.
Professional. They've got a smart chief, and you don't want to mess with him or any of his men.
We'll play it cool, then, Guido said.
Guido, please don't take this the wrong way, but on the streets of Palm Beach, you're going to stand out.
Don't worry, I tan fast.
Stone sighed. I'm not talking about your lack of a tan. People around here can spot an outsider in a split second, and any cop in town would make you as a foreigner from a block away.
I ain't a foreigner, Guido said hotly. I was born in Brooklyn.
My point is, Guido, nobody else in Palm Beach was born in Brooklyn. And if they were, they'd have learned long ago to look like they were born on Park Avenue. I hope you're getting my drift Yeah, I get your drift, Guido said, and if you were anybody but a friend of my friend I wouldn't take it too good.
I'm trying to help you, Guido. Your friend would not like it if I had to bail you and your pals out of the local can, would he?
I guess not, Guido admitted. How can we fit in better here?
Stone thought about an honest answer to that question, but thought better of giving it. Go down to Worth Avenue, to the Polo store or Armani and buy some nice quiet sports clothes. Jackets, too, like blue blazers with brass buttons?
Guido nodded, but he was watching Stone dosely to see if he was being had. You think that'll do it, huh?
Stone bit his tongue. It can't hurt.
Okay. How can I get in touch with you?
Stone gave Guido his cell phone number. And you? Where are you staying?
I don't expect to be here that long, Guido said, and gave Stone his own cell phone number. Listen, he said, looking around as if he might be overheard. My people are not going to feel good about shedding their hardware, you know?
Guido, nobody in Palm Beach is going to give you a hard time, let alone shoot at you with the possible exception of the young lady. And if that were to happen, I think you'd be better off taking a round or two than shooting her. Her father would not think well of that.
Guido nodded. You got a point, he said.
One other thing, Stone said. What kind of cars are you driving?
Cadillacs, Guido replied.
You might rent something more anonymous.
Why? Don't nobody drive Cadillacs in Palm Beach? I thought we'd fit right in.
I'm not thinking about the general public, I'm thinking about the young lady. I think it will be to your advantage if you see her before she sees you.
Guido nodded slowly. I get you, he said.
Another thing, Stone said. There's going to be a wedding here on Sunday evening, starting at six o'clock. There'll probably be a couple hundred people. If you haven't found her by then, you should probably have your people here.
Yeah, okay, we can do that.
It's going to mean renting or buying some evening clothes.
You mean, like, suits?
I mean, like, tuxedos. It's going to be that kind of wedding.
Yeah, okay, I'll look into that.
And tell your guys no pastel tuxedos or ruffled shirts. Keep it discreet.
Guido looked at Stone closely. You think we don't know how to dress?
I thought we already covered that point, Guido. This is Palm Beach; it's different.
He nodded. Different from Brooklyn.
Different from anywhere you've ever been before. Give me the names of your people, and I'll get them on the guest list.
Guido took a notebook from one of his many shirt pockets and jotted down some names, then ripped off the sheet and gave it to Stone.
Stone read them aloud: Mr. Smith, Mr. Jones, Mr. Williams and Mr. Edwards?
I'm Mr. Edwards, Guido said.
Got it. Stone put the piece of paper into his pocket and stood up. Thanks for checking in, Guido. I appreciate your help with this.
<
br /> I ain't doing it for you, Guido said, then walked away.
Stone watched him go, then walked back to the yacht and found Cal-lie. Please add these names to the guest list for Sunday, he said, handing her the paper.
Callie looked at it. Do these people have first names?
No, Stone said.
Stone walked down Worth Avenue with Dino at his side, trying not to look behind him or at the reflections in windows.
What are we doing, Stone? Dino asked.
We're trolling.
For Dolce?
Yes.
Which one of us is the bait on the hook?
I am.
So what am I?
You're the cork.
I must remember to stay out of the line of fire, Dino said.
Don't worry, Guido and his buddies are on the job.
Oh, that really makes me feel better: protection from goombahs.
You're a goombah, Stone said.
You say that again, and I'll shoot you myself.
Come on, Dino, the only thing separating your life from Guido's and his chums' is the entrance exam to the police academy.
You're really trying to piss me off, aren't you?
Can't you take a joke?
I'm going to sic the Italian-American Defamation League onto your ass, Dino said.
Didn't the people who ran that fine organization all get gunned down while eating clams?
Only some of them. Are we trolling for Paul Manning, too?
No, I think Mr. Manning has retired from the field.
And what makes you think that?
I explained to him that I knew about his little bank escapades, and that I could very easily cause the FBI to know about them, too, if he should annoy me.
And you think that will get rid of him.
I do.
I expect it pissed him off, too.
Oh, yes, I took some pleasure in pissing him off.
Stone, you don't want to piss off crazy people with homicidal tendencies.
I think he's smart enough to stay out of my way, now.
Smart doesn't enter into it, Dino said. Revenge has a way of doing away with smart.
Stone stopped and looked into a jewelry shop window. See if you can spot Guido and his friends.
Dino didn't even turn around. You mean the three goombahs in the red Cadillac, parked across the street?
Stone sighed. Tell me you're just saying that to annoy me.
I'm just saying that to annoy you, Dino said. They're really parked about fifty feet up the street.
I told him to stay well away from me, Stone said.
Goombahs like Guido don't listen, unless it involves an illegal profit, or the fun of shooting somebody in the head.
I don't understand why Eduardo would send people like that to do this.
Who else is he going to trust? Dino asked. They're his people. He's not going to ask his fellow board members at the Metropolitan Opera to come to Palm Beach and bring his crazy daughter home.
Stone started to walk again. Once again, you have a point, but couldn't he have hired some private security people? Somebody with a little more discretion?
Then strangers would know his business, Dino said, and Eduardo doesn't want anybody outside the family to know his business. To tell you the truth, I'm a little surprised he hasn't had you capped. After all, you're not exactly family, although you almost were.
I guess I dodged that bullet, Stone said.
Not yet, pal, Dino replied. But at least you're not bound to them by a Catholic marriage and family obligations.
I still feel obligated to Dolce.
Eduardo doesn't feel you have any obligation to her, so why do you?
He has been very apologetic about this, Stone said.
You're lucky he's Italian, Dino said. If you'd been through the same experience with the daughter of some high Episcopalian, the old man would be out there ruining your reputation, even as we speak. He wouldn't have you shot, but you'd never get invited to dinner again by anybody with an Anglo-Saxon name, and you'd be kicked out of your clubs if you belonged to any clubs.
Yeah, keep telling me how lucky I am, Stone said. He turned into Tiffany & Company. Come on, I've got to find a wedding present for Thad and Liz.
Listen, those people ought to be giving you a wedding present, Dino said.
Nevertheless. Stone looked, first at crystal, then moved up to sterling. What do you think of this? he asked, holding up a handsome silver bowl.
What would they keep in that, their money?
Fruit.
Oh.
I'll take this, Stone said to a saleslady. Could you gift wrap it?
Of course, the woman said. I'll just be a moment. She vanished into a back room.
Dino went rigid. Don't turn around, he said. Dolce's looking in the window.
Involuntarily, Stone turned around and looked. He saw a disappearing flash of color.
You stay right here, Dino said. Don't move. He walked quickly to the front door and outside, looking up and down the street.
Stone waited impatiently until the saleswoman returned, then waited even more impatiently while she rang up the sale and had his credit card authorized. Finally, blue shopping bag in hand, he hurried to the front door. He looked up and down the street as far he could see, then stepped outside. Dino was nowhere in sight, and neither was the red Cadillac.
Stone stood in the bright sunlight, feeling helpless, not knowing which way to turn. He waited for five long minutes, then made a decision: He turned right and walked rapidly along the street, checking shop-windows for Dolce and looking up and down the street for the red Cadillac.
Suddenly, Dino stepped out of a doorway and ran head-on into Stone. Didn't I tell you to stay where you were? he demanded.
I did, for a very long time, Stone said. Did you lose her?
Yeah, and I don't understand it.
Then, from not too great a distance, they heard three rapid reports.
Gun! Dino said, and started running toward the noise.
Stone followed, and the two of them turned a corner and ran toward a parking lot behind Worth Avenue. Stone could see the trunk of the red Cadillac protruding into the street.
Dino got there first. Women were screaming, and people in cars were trying desperately to get out of the parking lot. The Cadillac sat, blocking the entrance, three of its four doors open, with three bullet holes in the windshield. It was empty.
Dino flashed his badge at a parking attendant, who was crouching in a booth at the entrance. What happened? he asked the trembling man.
I don't know, exactly, he said. I was about to give the man in the Cadillac his parking check when the windshield seemed to explode.
Anybody hit?
I don't know. I dove in here in about half a second.
Call nine-one-one, Dino said, then he turned to Stone. Let's get out of here.
As they walked quickly away, Stone looked around the lot and the street for a familiar face, but Dolce was gone, and so were Guido and his two goombahs.
They got back to the yacht without sighting Dolce, and Stone was in his cabin, putting away his wedding gift, when Juanito knocked on the door.
Yes? Stone called.
Mr. Barrington, there's somebody to see you on the afterdeck.
Be right there, Stone said. He retrieved the 9mm automatic from under his pillow and tucked it into his waistband in the small of his back. He wasn't expecting visitors.
His visitor turned out to be Dan Griggs, and Stone was relieved until Griggs started to talk. He looked very serious. Stone, there was an attempted shooting in a parking lot downtown, and one of my people saw you leaving the scene. You want to tell me about that?
Don't worry, Dan, they weren't shooting at me.
Griggs didn't smile. I thought maybe it was you doing the shooting.
Stone shook his head. No, Dino and I were shopping on Worth Avenue, when we heard gunfire. Dino was armed, and we ran around
the corner and saw the car with the bullet holes in it. That's all we saw. We told the parking lot attendant to dial nine-one-one, then left.
Did you see the occupants of the car?
No.
Did you see the shooter?
No.
Witnesses said there were three men in the car, out-of-towners, by the look of them, and the shooter was a good-looking woman.
Stone said nothing.
Why did you leave the scene? Griggs asked.
We didn't see anything. It's not like we were witnesses. There was nothing there for us to do. Stone was relieved that he could tell the truth about this, even if he was withholding information.
Griggs sighed.
Stone was about to say something, when he looked over Griggs's shoulder and saw Dolce standing in the garden, maybe two hundred feet away. Griggs was about to turn and follow his gaze, but Stone took him by the shoulder and led him toward the afterdeck banquette. How about a drink, Dan? he said.
Griggs pulled away from his grasp, but did not look toward Dolce. Are you nuts? I'm on duty. I thought that was obvious.
How's Lundquist? Stone asked, desperate to keep Griggs looking in his direction instead of Dolce's. He couldn't allow himself to look that way, either.
I put him on a medivac plane for Minneapolis this morning. He's recovering, and his department sent the aircraft.
He's going to be all right, then?
Didn't I just say that? Griggs asked, irritated.
Sorry, Dan. I just wanted to be sure.
Something else: You still looking for that Manning fellow?
Not really, Stone said. I pretty much straightened that out in a favorable manner.
Favorable? Did you shoot him?
No, no, I just sorted out the differences between him and Liz, and I think he's out of our hair now.
Maybe not, Griggs said.
What do you mean?
I've had two reports from my men of a man answering his description being in town.
Well, if he's in town, I've got no quarrel with him, nor him with me.
Does he have any quarrel with Liz?
Not anymore. That's all settled.
Then you don't want me to pick him up?
For a moment, Stone considered blowing the whistle on Paul Manning, and the hell with their agreement. No. You wouldn't have a charge, anyway. He's clean.
How do you know that? I thought you said he was the criminal type.
As a result of our settlement, he's now too rich to be criminal.
