Carnal Curiosity (8 page)

“Will do.”

—

V
iv was already at the table when he got there, sipping a scotch.

“Am I late?”

“No, I’m early. I had to take a dress back to Bloomingdale’s, so I just walked down here after that.”

A waiter brought Stone a Knob Creek.

“Tell me,” Viv said, “did your being in court today have anything to do with Crane Hart?”

“Yes, Herb Fisher was handling her divorce hearing, and I spectated.”

“How did it go?”

“Herb handled it brilliantly.”

“I’m so glad,” she said.

The waiter took their orders.

“Something you’re not telling me, Viv?”

“Did Mike Freeman call you about Crane going to work for him?”

“Yes.”

“Did you recommend her?”

“No, I told him I didn’t know her qualifications well enough to do that, and I suggested he have some other people in his office interview her.”

“Did he do that?”

“I don’t know, but…”

“She got the job, didn’t she?”

“Yes. I spoke to her boss—her ex-boss—about that. He was pretty upset.”

“Is his name Jeb Barnes?”

“Yes. What’s going on, Viv? Do you know something about all this that I don’t?”

“Did she tell you she got a job with Mike?”

“No.”

“Does that strike you as odd?”

“Well, sort of. She had the opportunity to tell me but didn’t. I asked her to dinner, but she said she needed a day off.”

“I see.”

“What do you know about Crane that you’re not telling me?”

“I heard from a girlfriend that Crane got the job with Mike.”

“Seems everybody knew it but me.”

“I saw her at Bloomingdale’s half an hour ago. She was getting out of a cab with Don Dugan.”

Stone’s jaw dropped. “Herb just got her a protection order today.”

“She apparently doesn’t need it anymore.”

“I guess not.” Stone thought Viv knew more, but he couldn’t get anything else out of her.

15

S
tone got to his desk the following morning feeling tired and grumpy. He had gone to bed angry about Crane’s not telling him about her new job and, especially, about Viv’s report of sighting her with her, now officially, ex-husband.

Joan brought him a mug of coffee and some mail. “Uh-oh,” she said, looking at his face.

“Uh-oh what?”

“That is not a good face.”

“My face? It’s the only one available, at the moment. I didn’t sleep well.”

“That’s because you’re unaccustomed to sleeping alone.”

“And smart-ass remarks will not improve my mood.”

“There’s a check for fifty thousand in the mail. Maybe that will improve it.”

“From whom?”

“A lawyer named Robert Harvey.”

Stone riffled through the mail and found the check: it was
made out to him and Woodman & Weld. “Well, I don’t know why it was sent to me. Messenger it over to Herbie.”

“And I was so looking forward to depositing it,” Joan said, and flounced out with the check.

Stone went through the mail, which was inconsequential, except for a dinner invitation from Mr. and Mrs. John Coulter. He scribbled
Yes
on it and put it in the pile to go back to Joan. He’d invite Crane, he thought.

Joan buzzed. “Mike Freeman on one.”

Stone pressed the button. “Hey, Mike.”

“You don’t sound so good this morning, Stone. Something wrong?”

“No, I just didn’t sleep well.”

“I thought you’d like to know I hired Crane Hart.”

“I heard, though I seem to be the last to hear. She didn’t mention it when I saw her yesterday, but I sure heard from Jeb Barnes at Steele. He was royally pissed off.”

“He’ll get over it,” Mike said.

“When did this happen?”

“On Tuesday. She had interviews last week. Didn’t she mention it?”

“Not a word.”

“She starts next Monday.”

“I hope you’ll be very happy together.”

“We’re not getting married, Stone, she’s just coming to work for me.”

“Where? In New York?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you have an Alaska office?”

“Stone, you really got up on the wrong side of the bed this
morning. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but she only accepted yesterday. I was going to invite you to lunch, by way of thanking you.”

“Not today, Mike,” Stone said. “I’d be poor company, I think.”

“I’ll call you again, then. Take care.” Mike hung up.

Stone finished the snail mail, then turned to his e-mail. He worked through the list for twenty minutes or so, then he came to the last one: it was from Crane.

Dear Stone,

I want to thank you again for referring me to Herb Fisher, who did such a brilliant job. Also, Michael Freeman has offered me a job at Strategic Services, and I’ve accepted. A good week for me!

Something else: Don and I had dinner together last night. He was very sweet and apologetic about his behavior. We managed to clear the air, and we’re back together again. In an odd way, I have you to thank for that. Of course, this means that you and I can’t see each other anymore, but things have all worked out for the best.

Affectionately,

Crane

Stone’s jaw very nearly hit his desktop. He stared at the screen, uncomprehending, for a long moment, then he typed a reply:

Congratulations on the new job. As to your personal life, I knew you were smart, but I didn’t know you were crazy.

Joan came back in and took the mail, then she regarded him closely. “Now what? You look as though you’ve been poleaxed.” Stone’s phone rang, and she picked it up. “Hi, Dino. Yes, he’s here, hang.” She handed the receiver to Stone.

“Hey, Dino.”

“You sound hungover.”

“No, just tired. I didn’t sleep well.”

“Had to do it alone, huh?”

“Don’t start.”

“Well, I called to tell you that I’m going to shoot you on sight for sneaking out to dinner with my wife last night, but I don’t want to add to your woes.”

“Thanks so much.”

“I hear the lovely Crane has a new job.”

Stone sighed. “I heard that, too.”

“Yeah, Viv interviewed her and recommended her to Mike.”

“Funny, Viv didn’t mention that.”

“She also said she saw Crane with that psycho, Don Dugan.”

“Yeah, I had an e-mail from her this morning—they’re a happy couple again.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I shit you not.”

“Maybe I should just assign a couple of homicide detectives to her now, instead of waiting until he offs her.”

“That might be a good move.”

“You think you can get your head together by dinnertime? Viv’s working.”

“Sure, why not? Where?”

“Well, you were at Clarke’s last night, so let’s make it Patroon. I never get tired of Ken’s Caesar salad. Seven-thirty?”

“Yeah, good.” They both hung up.

Joan buzzed. “Ann Keaton on two.”

Stone immediately felt better and pressed the button. “Good morning.”

“And the same to you. You remember the giant guy you warned me about the other day? I read on Page Six that he got into a fight at the Waldorf right after he left our offices.”

“I heard something about that.”

“Thanks again for the advice.”

“Listen, would you like to go to a dinner party Saturday night?”

“Sure. How am I dressing?”

“It’s black tie, so dress to kill.”

“I’ll get my grandmother’s jewelry out of the safe, then.”

“Good idea.”

“Who’s our host?”

“A couple named Jack and Hillary Coulter—she’s Hillary Foote Coulter, if that rings a bell.”

“It does. She’s high up on our contributor list.”

“Then you can thank her in person. Drinks at seven-thirty. Where do you live?”

“Park and Sixty-third, number five-seventy.”

“My ex-partner and his wife live there.”

“Who are they?”

“Dino and Vivian Bacchetti.”

“Oh, I’ve met them. I’m on the co-op board, and we interviewed them when they were buying.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty, then.”

“Looking forward.”

“So am I.” He hung up feeling much, much better.

16

S
tone and Dino arrived at Patroon and walked into the restaurant together. The owner, Ken Aretzky, shook their hands and showed them to a booth. Their drinks arrived without ordering.

“Nothing like being predictable,” Dino said to the waiter.

“We like it that way,” the man replied.

Dino took his first sip. “You look better than I expected,” he said to Stone. “Are you over the lovely Crane already?”

“There wasn’t much to be over,” Stone said. “A couple of rolls in the hay.”

“Well, at least you and the giant ex-husband didn’t get into it again.”

“The night is young,” Stone said, nodding toward the door.

Dino followed his gaze to the front door, where Ken was greeting the newly happy couple.

“How’d they even find out about this place?” Dino asked. “I thought it was our secret.”

“I brought her here,” Stone said.

“Doesn’t she understand anything about the male restaurant prerogative?” Dino asked. “She can’t go with another guy to a place you took her to.”

“Have the rules committee drop her a note, will you?” Stone said.

“I’m on it.”

“They look perfectly normal,” Stone said. “Not like a couple with a protection order between them.”

“If she has a protection order against him, then I can have him arrested,” Dino said. “Just say the word.”

“I’m thinking about it,” Stone replied. “The idea of seeing him dragged out of here in cuffs is a very attractive one.”

“Then you could ask her to join us. You could even take her home.”

“What would we talk about?” Stone asked.

“What do you usually talk about?”

“What a rotten ex-husband she has.”

A waiter stopped at Crane’s table, then came over to Stone and Dino. “Mr. Dugan would like to buy you a drink,” he said.

“Two large, expensive cognacs,” Stone said. “Tell him to pour them in his lap and set fire to them.”

“Ah, I’ll tell him you said you already have a drink,” the waiter said.

“Good idea,” Dino chipped in. The waiter left. “Let’s not start anything.”

The waiter delivered the message. “Ignore them,” Stone said to Dino. Ignoring them turned out to be hard, but Stone managed.

“Look, they’re leaving,” Dino said.

“I’m not looking. Tell me what they’re doing.”

“Dugan threw some money on the table and escorted Crane out. They’re gone.”

“Smart move on Dugan’s part,” Stone said.

Ken Aretzky came over and Stone asked him to join them for a drink.

“Didn’t I see you in here last week with that blonde?” Ken asked.

“I apologize for bringing her here,” Stone said.

“Don’t apologize, she’s very decorative. I hear from the waiter that you and the guy don’t do business.”

“That’s an accurate report,” Stone said. “He and the woman weren’t doing business as recently as yesterday, when they were divorced.”

“And he’s taking her out to dinner the next night?”

“I’m sorry if I’ve cost you a customer.”

“You’ll just have to come twice as often, to make it up to me,” Ken replied. “I’ll tell my reservationist not to seat the two of you on the same night.”

“A very good idea,” Stone said, “unless you want a brawl for a floor show.”

“My china and crystal are too expensive to bear that,” Ken said. “Though it might be entertaining to watch.”

“It might not be so entertaining,” Dino said. “You saw the size of the guy.”

“Tell me, Stone,” Ken said, “what’s the secret to handling a guy that big?”

“You have to throw the first punch,” Stone said. “And aim low.”

“And it had better count,” Dino added. “You don’t want him getting on his feet again.”

“I think if I were you,” Ken said, “I’d carry a blackjack.”

“Good idea,” Stone said. “I’ve got one somewhere. I’ll dig it out.”

“Do cops still carry blackjacks?” Ken asked Dino.

“It’s optional. It’s against policy to hit somebody in the head or the spine with it, except in aggravated circumstances or to save a life.”

“How about a nightstick?”

“Uniformed cops still carry them. They can be very useful. You hold a guy by the wrist and stick it in his armpit, he’ll come along, and on tiptoe, too. Or you can strike the common peroneal nerve, just above the inside of the knee, and he’ll temporarily lose control of the leg.”

“I did that with a softball bat recently,” Stone said. “Worked like a charm. I cherish the memory.”

Ken waved over a waiter. “Bring these gentlemen red meat on the house,” he said.

17

S
tone arrived at Ann Keaton’s apartment building on Park Avenue with Fred Flicker at the wheel, having persuaded Fred not to wear a chauffeur’s cap.

The doorman took his name, then buzzed Ann. Shortly, she was installed in the rear seat of the Bentley.

“Where is our dinner party?” she asked.

“A few blocks from your building—many more from my house. I like your grandmother’s jewelry, both the diamond necklace and the matching bracelet.”

“Thank you. The old girl had excellent taste, and she lived in a time when the family was truly rich, instead of just comfortable. Tell me,” she said, “you mentioned that you and Dino Bacchetti had been partners. Were you once a policeman?”

“For the first fourteen years of my statutory adulthood, I was. Dino and I met as young detectives, when we were made partners. It was a good relationship, and we have remained close friends since that time. Dino stuck it out and is now chief of detectives.”

“Why did you leave the department?”

“A knee injury was given as the reason for retiring me, but popular demand among my superiors had much to do with it.”