Fresh Disasters

“Every word.”

“Okay, then, don’t hang too close to her. Give her room to work, and keep me posted.”

“Will do, Lieutenant.”

Dino hung up. “Can I pick ’em, or what? She’s already having dinner with Daltry.”

“Wow.”

“Wow, exactly,” Dino said, but he was looking toward the door.

Stone followed his gaze to see two women who had just walked in. One of them was a tall, very beautiful woman in, maybe, her early thirties; the other was Eliza Larkin, M.D. Stone stood up and waved them over.

Eliza gave him a kiss. “Stone, Dino, this is my friend Genevieve James.”

Everybody shook hands, and Stone seated them. Dino, he noticed, seemed stunned by Genevieve.

“I’m sorry,” Eliza said, “We just wandered in for a drink. I know you and I are not supposed to meet while this thing with Daltry is going on.”

“The snake,” Genevieve said.

“It’s okay, Eliza,” Stone said. “As it happens, I know exactly where he is at this moment, and he won’t be a concern. I am very glad to see you.”

Dino leaned toward Genevieve. “And I’m very glad to see you.”

“You’re cute,” she said, as a cosmopolitan was set before her. They clinked glasses. “How tall are you?” she asked.

“Not as tall as I look,” Dino said.

She laughed. “You’re not intimidated; that’s good.”

“I am not intimidated.”

“So many men are. I mean, I’m only six feet; I’ve known lots of women taller.”

“So have I,” Dino said. “I’m very pleased to hear that you have a low opinion of Devlin Daltry.”

“I certainly do,” she said. “He made my life hell for weeks last fall.”

“I’ll personally see to it that he never does that again,” Dino said.

“Oh, I don’t want you to get involved with him; he can be dangerous.”

Dino flashed his badge. “Allow me to introduce myself; it’s Lieutenant Dino.”

“Oh, good, then you can shoot him.”

“Only if I get the chance.”

“Dino has Daltry under surveillance as we speak,” Stone said.

“I hope you catch him doing something criminal,” Genevieve said.

“I hope so, too,” Dino said. “I’ve already charged him with something minor; now I’m hoping for something major.”

Willa Bernstein sat at the bar with Devlin Daltry, sipping single-malt Scotch. “Mmmm, this is a lot better than that Queens wine at the gallery.”

“Certainly is. Willa seems an odd name for a Jewish girl.”

“My mother was reading Willa Cather-Death Comes for the Archbishop-when I was born, and I’m not Jewish. My father is, but Jewish identity is passed down through the female line, and my mother is Episcopalian. So am I.”

“My mistake.”

“Everybody makes it. When are you having another show?”

“I opened one a couple of weeks ago, but it’s sold out, so we’re closing it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I’d love to have seen it.”

“I have a number of pieces at my studio. Maybe I can show them to you after dinner.”

“I’d like that,” she said.

The headwaiter came over. “Your usual table is ready, Mr. Daltry. May I take your drinks over?”

“Of course, Eddie. We’re right behind you.”

They stood up and followed the man toward the table.

“I hope it doesn’t bother you that I’m so tall,” Willa said. “It bothers a lot of men.”

“Not in the least,” Daltry replied smoothly. “In fact, I’m rather partial to tall women.”

Dino’s cell phone rang again. “Excuse me,” he said, flipping it open. “Bacchetti.”

“It’s Bernstein, Lieutenant.”

“Update?”

“They’ve just sat down to dinner. He’s already invited her to his studio afterwards, and she’s accepted. Do you want us to let her do that?”

Dino thought for a moment. “Yes,” he said. “She’s doing a great job so far; we have to believe she can take care of herself if she goes back to his place.”

“Well, she’s half again as big as he is,” Bernstein said. “She ought to be able to handle him.”

“Joe Dowdell and Hank Ortega are in the other car, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, you just be sure that the four of you-sorry, five, I forgot about Pointer-are ready to go in there pronto if anything happens. She’s got a code word if she gets into trouble, right?”

“Yes, Lieutenant. She’ll say ‘My back hurts’ if she needs us.”

“As soon as they’re inside his building, find a way in; it’ll save time if she needs help.”

“Will do, Lieutenant.”

Dino hung up, and Genevieve was staring at him oddly. “Am I to understand that you have a female police officer who’s going to Devlin Daltry’s studio?”

“Yes, I do,” Dino said.

“Well,” Genevieve said, “I think that’s a very big mistake.”

“What?” Dino asked.

“I went there once, and I almost didn’t get out alive. And believe me, I know how to take care of myself.”

53

Stone’s cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the caller I.D. number. “Hello?”

“It’s Dierdre.”

“Hi.”

“Dattila’s out of jail.”

“What?”

“His lawyer got a judge to release him, based on the fact that, since Gus’s death and Herbie’s disappearance, we have no witnesses against him.”

“But there’s the tape of Dattila ordering Herbie’s death.”

“The lawyer claimed they would show at trial that it’s fabricated.”

“Did Dattila buy a judge or something?”

“I don’t think the judge can be faulted. Dattila’s lawyer is right, except about the tape. It’s not fabricated, is it?”

“No, it’s genuine.”

“Have you heard from Herbie?”

“Not a word.”

“I know I’m not supposed to say this about my witness, but tell him he’d be smart to leave town. Dattila is going to spare no effort to see him dead. We got a tip that word has gone out to his people all over town: There’s a hundred grand on Herbie’s head.”

“There ought to be a hundred grand on Dattila’s head.”

“This is my third try at getting the guy, and I’ve never even gone to trial.”