Worst Fears Realized

“I can call them on their cell phone,” the cop said.

“Please.”

The cop dialed the number, then handed the phone to Stone.

“Anderson,” a voice said.

“Andy, it’s Stone. I’m in the other car now.”

“I saw you.”

“We’re going to drive away; after we’ve been gone two minutes, please ring my doorbell three times. Miss Buckminster will come out, and you can drive her to Elaine’s. You know where that is?”

“I used to drive Lieutenant Bacchetti,” Anderson replied.

“Make sure you’re not followed.”

“Right.”

Stone broke the connection, then handed the phone back to the cop. “All right, we’re headed for Second Avenue between Eighty-eighth and Eighty-ninth. Don’t go direct; I’ll watch our tail.”

“Right,” the cop said, putting the car into gear. “You want me to use the light?”

“Let’s be inconspicuous,” Stone said.

They drove down to Third Avenue and turned up-town, while Stone watched every car behind them. “Go over to Park, then back to Third,” he told the detective.

“Whatever you say,” the bored detective replied.

They spent half an hour reaching Elaine’s. Just before they arrived, Stone called Anderson again.

“Anderson.”

“Andy, when you’ve dropped off Miss Buckminster, please come into the restaurant and take up a position at the bar, near the window. You know what the perp looks like, don’t you?”

“I didn’t get much of a look at him last night,” Anderson replied, “but I’ve got the description.”

“Keep an eye peeled for him.”

“Will do.”

The car stopped. “You guys watch the block for a guy matching the description,” Stone said.

“Right,” the detectives replied.

Stone got out and went inside. He gave Elaine a kiss, then joined Dino at their usual table.

“Sarah coming?” Dino asked.

“She’ll be here in a minute; Anderson is bringing her. Anything happen today?”

“We checked with the Hamburg police for the whereabouts of Mitteldorfer’s nephew, Ernst Hausman. They checked his home address and the cigarette factory; he was at work today. Hasn’t had a day off in more than a month.”

“What about the check of Mitteldorfer’s old neighborhood? Turn up anything?”

“Half a dozen of the older residents remembered Mitteldorfer, but they didn’t know anything about relatives. As far as they knew, Herbie and his wife were childless.”

“Did they talk to Herbie’s correspondent? What was her name?”

“Eloise Enzberg. Yeah, this morning. Frightened her, it seems. She didn’t know anything; she just writes to Herbie once a week and visits him once a month. Takes him strudel.”

“How gemutlich.”

“If you say so. You know, Germantown isn’t what it used to be.”

“What is?”

“I mean, there’s not so many Germans anymore, just some old people. I guess their kids moved away. You remember the Gay Vienna restaurant?”

“Sure, the one with the kalbshax.”

“The veal shank that looked like a giant drumstick.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“And they had a zither player. I liked the zither music. Where was that place, exactly?”

“You’re sitting in it,” Dino said.

“It was here?”

“It finally closed, then Elaine bought the building and opened up.”

“I’ll be damned; I never connected the two.”

“I guess all the kalbshax lovers died or moved away.” Dino sighed.

Elaine came and sat down. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad,” Stone replied. “Say, do you think you could put kalbshax on the menu?”

“What’re you, some kind of Kraut?” Elaine asked.

Sarah bustled in, followed closely by Andy Anderson, who took up his position at the bar.

Dino grabbed a waiter. “See the tall guy at the bar by the window? Tell the bartender to give him one scotch, no refills.” The waiter went off to do Dino’s bidding.

Stone and Dino stood up to welcome Sarah; she rewarded Dino with a kiss on the cheek. “Elaine,” Stone said, “you remember Sarah Buckminster, don’t you?”

“Sure; long time,” Elaine said. She turned to Dino. “I heard about last night,” she said.

“How the hell did you hear about that?” Dino demanded. “It hasn’t been in the papers.”

“I got my sources,” Elaine replied.

“Yeah, you probably know more about the case than I do.”

“I probably do.”

“Maybe you can tell me where to find the perp?”

Elaine leaned over, and whispered conspiratorially, “Try Central Park.”

“I had a visit from one Tom Deacon today,” Stone said.

“What the fuck did he want?” Dino asked.

“He’s apparently taking over your case.”

“He should live so long,” Dino snorted.

“He questioned me at some length, while his partner took notes, then he accused me of murdering Susan Bean.”

“Who’s Susan Bean?” Sarah asked.

“A dead person,” Elaine explained.

“Why did you murder her?” Sarah asked Stone.

“Oh, just for the hell of it,” Stone said. “I murder two or three women a month, if I’m not too busy.”

Sarah turned to Elaine. “You think I should move out?”

“I didn’t know you’d moved in,” Elaine replied. “It’s nice that Stone can get laid again.”

Sarah burst out laughing. “Has it been a while?”

“Oh, yeah,” Elaine said. “I can’t tell you what a pain in the ass he’s been.”

“I have not,” Stone protested.

“He’s kinda got that glow again, you know?” Elaine said to Dino.

“Yeah,” Dino replied, “he’s all pink in the cheeks again.”

“I’d like to think I’m the only person here who’s seen his cheeks,” Sarah said, “and they’re really quite a lovely shade of pink.”

“So are yours,” Stone said, clinking her glass with his.

“Why do you think Deacon is poking his nose in?” Dino asked.

“Wouldn’t you think Martin Brougham was behind it? After all, Susan was one of their own.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse,” Dino said.

“He told me that Susan used to be a regular here, at the bar. Did you know her, Elaine?”

Elaine shrugged. “Who can keep track of all those people at the bar? They come, they go, they get murdered.”

“She was friends with a woman named Jean Martinelli.”

“Her I know,” Elaine said. “I threw her out of here when she used to get drunk and start annoying people at the tables.”