“Oh, what a shame,” Celia said. “Can’t you stay for dinner, Dino?”
“Well, I…”
Stone kicked him under the table.
Dino winced. “I’m meeting somebody, business.”
“What a pity.”
“Isn’t it,” Stone said, unable not to smile. “What would you like to drink?” he asked Celia.
“Do they have any decent bourbon in this joint?” she asked sweetly.
“Waiter, bring the lady a Knob Creek. On the rocks?”
“Perfect,” she said.
“So nice to meet a woman who drinks bourbon,” Stone said.
“I’m a southern girl from a small town in Georgia called Delano, where they consider Scotch un- American.”
Menus arrived. “Only two,” Stone said to the waiter. “Dino has to be someplace.”
“I think that’s my cue to scram,” Dino said, rising. “So nice to meet you, Celia. I hope to see a lot more of you.”
“That’s my line,” Stone said. “Good night, Dino.”
The waiter escorted Dino to another table and held the chair for him.
“You were rude to your friend,” Celia said.
“We do that a lot,” Stone replied, “but only because I didn’t want to share you.”
“Thank you for not saying there’s enough of me to go around; I’ve heard all the tall jokes.”
Elaine came over and sat down, and Stone introduced the two women. “You’re taller sitting down than I am standing up,” Elaine said.
Celia laughed. “I take it back, Stone, I hadn’t heard that one.”
Elaine peered at Celia’s glass. “What are you drinking?” she asked.
“Bourbon,” Celia replied.
Elaine spotted a friend coming into the restaurant and stood up. “I’ll look forward to the wedding invitation,” she said. “Stone has found his dream girl.”
Celia laughed again, a pleasing sight and sound. “So,” she said, “go ahead and ask me how I became a masseuse.”
“I’m sure you have the answer ready,” Stone said.
“It was the only way I could earn two hundred dollars an hour without turning tricks. And I’m too smart to be a Las Vegas showgirl.”
“Perfect answer,” Stone said.
“The truth is, I lived in Santa Fe for a while, and they have a lot of massage schools. I had to find something more financially rewarding than waiting tables, so I took the training.”
“And the training took.”
“So you’re a lawyer? Why?”
“It was the only way I could earn five hundred dollars an hour without turning tricks. And I’m too smart to be a cop, which is what I used to be before I got so smart. Dino was my partner in those days.”
“Did you ever hear anything from Marilyn?”
“No, but I had lunch with Bernard Finger today, if you can call watching him slurp down a dozen oysters and hearing a stupid proposal for a settlement lunch.”
“He’s kind of gross, isn’t he?”
“I think that sums him up very well.”
“I met him once when he came to pick up Marilyn at the day spa. He’s been very generous, though; he bought her that apartment. You know the skinny modern building on Park Avenue in the sixties?”
“The one with one apartment per floor?”
“Yes. He bought her the penthouse in that building.”
“What do you want to bet the deed is in Bernie’s name?”
“I wouldn’t take that bet, and Marilyn isn’t smart enough to insist on having it in her name. He tells her they’re going to be married as soon as he can get a divorce.”
“I’ll bet he tells her that.”
She laughed. “Marilyn says he loves to make love out on their terrace.”
“Right out in the open?”
“Yes, and there are taller buildings all around them.”
“Then they must enjoy exhibitionism.”
“I guess. I’m hungry.”
“What would you like?”
“You made me think of oysters,” she said.
“It’ll be more fun watching you eat them than watching Bernie.” They ordered.
Two hours later they stood on the curb, looking for a taxi.
“Can I tempt you back to my house?”
“I’ve already seen your etchings,” she said, “along with everything else. It’ll have to wait until next time.”
“Is tomorrow too soon for next time?”
“Yes. Call me and we’ll figure it out.” A cab stopped.
“I’ll drop you at home,” Stone said.
“That would be inconvenient,” she said, getting into the cab.
“Where do you live?” Stone asked, but she had already closed the door, and the cab was moving.
Stone watched her drive away, regretting her reluctance to come home with him. He’d have to work on that.
14
The next morning, Joan buzzed Stone. “It’s Herbert Fisher,” she said.
“Tell him to get lost.”
“He insists on talking to you. Says it’s urgent; his life is in danger.”
“God, I hope so,” Stone said, punching at the flashing light. “I told you not to call me, Herbie.”
“Stone, you gotta help me,” Herbie panted. “They’re trying to kill me.”
Stone sighed. “Okay, Herbie, who’s trying to kill you?”
“My bookie, I think. Last night when I came home there were two guys in a black Lincoln waiting for me. I had to run like hell for nearly a mile before I lost them in an alley.”
“Where did you spend the night?”
“At my girlfriend’s.”
“
“Sure, doesn’t everybody?”
“Then what were you doing with those two hookers at Elaine’s?”
“Oh, that was a celebration.”
That did not compute. “Are you at your girlfriend’s now, Herbie?”
“No, I’m in a candy store. She made me leave when she left for work.”
“She’s afraid to leave you in her apartment?”
“Well, we had this little problem once, with some money.”
“You stole money from her?”
“I borrowed it, but she noticed before I could pay her back.”
“I’m surprised she let you in the door last night.”
“Well, she won’t tonight, and I need someplace to hide from those guys.”
“Try one of your hookers.”
