“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.”
“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.
53
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
“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.”
