“Oh?”
“I believe that’s the gentleman who is accusing you of adultery with his wife?”
“I believe you’re right,” Stone said. “Wait until I buzz you, then show him in and stick around while I talk to him. I want a witness.”
“Whatever you say,” Joan replied, then went back to her desk.
Stone took off his jacket and tie and hung them up, then he opened his desk drawer and took out two rolls of quarters, putting a roll in each of the front pockets of his trousers. He buzzed Joan. She opened the door to Stone’s office and showed the man in, then stood next to the door.
Henry Kennerly was even bigger than Stone remembered from his sighting at Elaine’s. He was at least two inches taller than Stone and forty pounds heavier, and it wasn’t all fat. He had a longer reach, too, Stone observed. He had known people like Kennerly before, starting in the schoolyard: bigger than everybody else and meaner, and accustomed to pushing people around.
“Good morning, Mr. Kennerly,” Stone said. “Now kindly leave my offices at once. You are unwelcome here.”
Kennerly moved his right hand. There was a click, and a steel police baton telescoped to its full length.
Stone stood up, put his hands in his pockets and walked around his desk. “You’d better make your first swing count,” Stone said, “because you’re not going to get a second one. After that, I’m going to punish you for invading my offices and refusing to leave when asked, while my secretary calls the police.”
“I don’t care if she does,” Kennerly said. “I’m going to beat you to a pulp.”
“Thank you for that warning. Did you hear that, Joan?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“As soon as this is over call nine-one-one. And, Mr. Kennerly, if you don’t mind a little free legal advice, possession by a civilian of the baton you’re holding is a felony in New York City. You’ll be charged with aggravated assault.”
“It’ll be worth it,” Kennerly said, advancing. He was big, but not very fast, and his body language telegraphed his move. He swung the baton in a wide arc at Stone’s head.
Stone removed his hands from his pockets, stepped into the move and ducked as the thing whistled past him. With a roll of quarters in each hand, he swung twice, first straight into the man’s solar plexus. With Kennerly’s weight moving toward him, that brought him to his knees. Then Stone walked behind him and punched him in the back of the neck, and the big man fell forward onto his face, stunned.
Joan left the room.
Stone went to his desk, put the quarters in a drawer and took out his old NYPD handcuffs. He walked over to Kennerly, put a knee on his back to pin him in place and cuffed him.
Joan walked back into the office. “I saw it all,” she said. “The police are on their way.”
“Thank you, Joan,” Stone said. He sat down at his desk and called Dino.
“Bacchetti.”
“It’s Stone.”
“Hi.”
“You remember that gorgeous woman you met at dinner?”
“How could I forget? Oh, I’m sorry about Genevieve’s behavior. That’s been straightened out.”
“Thanks. Speaking of straightening out, the lady’s soon-to-be ex-husband, one Henry Kennerly, is lying on the floor of my office. He came in here, threatened to beat me to a pulp and assaulted me with a perfectly illegal police baton, which I think qualifies nicely as a deadly weapon. I disarmed him and cuffed him, and Joan has called nine- one-one, having witnessed the whole business. I just wanted you to know that he’ll be at the precinct soon, and I’ll come in later and sign the complaint.”
“I’ll fill it out for you. You want me to forge your signature?”
“Sure, why not, and I wouldn’t mind if it took a while to process him. See if you can house him with one or more persons he won’t feel very comfortable with; I want this to be an unforgettable experience for him.”
“Sure thing.”
“I know his lawyer’s name, because he had me served yesterday.” Stone gave him the name. “Call him when Mr. Kennerly feels well enough to ask for his attorney.”
“Will do.”
“See you at dinner?”
“I’ll be there.”
Stone hung up. Kennerly was stirring now, and swearing. A moment later Joan led two police officers into the room.
“This our guy?” one of them asked.
“That’s the assailant,” Stone replied. “I’d appreciate it if you’d use your cuffs and give me mine back.” He gave them an account of the incident, Joan backed it up, then the two cops recuffed Kennerly, stood him up and frog- marched him out of the room.
“I’ll get you for this!” Kennerly screamed on his way out.
“Please make note of that threat,” Stone called to the cops and got a thumbs-up in return.
Stone went back to his desk and called Tatiana.
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Stone. Good news: Henry just came over here and took a swing at me with a club.”
“Oh, Stone, I’m so sorry. Are you badly hurt?”
“Not at all. I said it was good news. He’s on the way to the police station now, and I imagine it will be some hours before his attorney can bail him out. Call your lawyer and tell him to add assault with a deadly weapon to Henry’s list of misdeeds.”
“I will do so immediately.”
“I think your settlement problems will all be over before the weekend, to which I am greatly looking forward.”
“And I as well.”
“Pick you up Saturday morning at ten?”
“See you then.”
Stone hung up, feeling he had done a good day’s work.
59
On Saturday morning Stone collected first Tatiana from her home and then Carla from the Carlyle, and they headed north to Litchfield County.
The two women chatted amiably, which was good, as long as they weren’t chatting about him. He hated the thought of the two of them in the ladies’ room together.
“How much longer are you singing at the Carlyle?” Tatiana asked.
“I’ve just finished three months in the Bemelmens Bar,” Carla said, “and, after a few weeks’ rest and preparation, I’m moving into the Cafe Carlyle, across the hall, with a bigger backup group, and we’ll be there through New Year’s Eve.”
“That sounds like a wonderful step up,” Tatiana said.
“It certainly is a promotion, and the money’s better, too. And I’ll like having a six-piece group backing me, instead of just a bass player. The arrangements are being written now.”
They drove on, and the conversation fell away in favor of exclamations about the increasingly beautiful fall foliage as they headed north. Finally, they arrived at Barton’s house, and he came out the kitchen door to greet them.
“Stone, Peter Cavanaugh and Julian Whately will be staying over tonight – no women or companions along this time – so will you and Tatiana come over around six for a drink?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Peter will have the final contract ready for our signatures, and we’ll have plenty of witnesses. “I’d also
