16
Stone had awakened that morning and discovered two dogs in bed with them. He moved them gently off, so as not to wake Meg, then ordered breakfast from Helene. Shortly the dumbwaiter chimed, and he woke Meg with a kiss on the ear.
“What’s that I smell?” she asked.
“Homemade sausages,” he replied, “and scrambled eggs, orange juice, muffins, and coffee.” He switched on the morning news shows.
“You’re an information freak, aren’t you?” she asked.
“You betcha. I have to know what’s going on. Shall I tell you how your day is going to work?”
“Please do.”
“Fred is yours for the day. Let me explain about him. He’s British, but he came to me from a French friend who gave me a year of him. Within the first week I had hired him permanently.”
“What’s his background?”
“Military. He was a regimental sergeant-major in the Royal Marines, and after retirement did some security work. He’s a lot tougher than his size and appearance would indicate, and absolutely fearless.”
“Can I borrow a gun from you? I’d feel better carrying it.”
“Do you have a New York City license to carry a concealed weapon?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you may not have a gun. Unlicensed possession in this city carries a prison sentence. Fred, however, is licensed, and a crack shot into the bargain, and the Bentley is very nicely armored.”
“Why do you have an armored car?” she asked.
“I bought my first one from a Mercedes dealer who had ordered it built for a client who needed it sooner than he had planned. It was arranged for me to buy it from his widow. I was in an awful accident with it, and the armor saved my life. Strategic Services sold me the Bentley—they have a division that armors vehicles.”
“They’re the ones who provided security for us in Key West?”
“Correct, and they will discreetly follow your car and accompany you in and out of shops, or wherever else you want to go. They are also armed, and they have photographs of Gino Bellini.” He handed her a business card. “If you want to look at apartments or houses, call Margo Goodale, who will set that up for you.”
“Sounds like I’ll have a full day,” Meg said.
“Feel free to make calls from any phone in the house. If you need secretarial services, see Joan—she’s the very best at what she does.”
“If I find an apartment I like, what’s the procedure?”
“You sign an offer and give Margo some earnest money. Condos are the easiest to buy quickly. Co-ops require a lengthy application process, sight of your tax returns, and a personal interview with the board. It can take two or three months, but I may be able to help hurry the process along, depending on the building, and of course, you already have living quarters here, if you’re comfortable with that.”
“Of course I am.”
“Feel free to give this address as your own.”
“Thank you. May I hire you as my attorney?”
“Of course. I’m happy to have you for a client, and when you mention my name, always say that I’m with Woodman & Weld. That carries some weight around town.”
“I’ll remember.”
“We’ll likely dine with Dino and Viv this evening. I’ll let you know about that.”
“I’ll look forward to seeing them.”
“If you want an office to work from, Arthur Steele will arrange one in his building. You’re entitled to that as a board member, when you’re in town. If you buy a residence here, you’ll have to make your own office arrangements, or better yet, have a home office.”
“You’re full of advice,” Meg said.
“If my friends would just follow my advice,” Stone said, “their lives would be so much richer, fuller, and happier.”
“Do your friends resist your advice?”
“Almost always.”
“Why?”
“Because they think it can’t be all that great if they’re not paying for it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Meg said. “So far, your advice has been impeccable.”
“I like that word,” Stone replied.
“MEG IS on the move,” Gino Bellini said to Veronica, holding up his iPhone. They were in the rental Mercedes, driving down Park Avenue.
“And just when we were about to pin her down,” Veronica said.
“Wait a minute.” They were stopped at a traffic light at Fifty-seventh and Park. Gino pointed across the intersection. “She’s right there,” he said. “She must be in the green Bentley.” The light changed and their driver moved on.
“Make a U-turn as soon as possible,” Gino said to their driver.
The driver did so.
“Now step on it. Look for a green Bentley.”
The driver moved into the right lane, which was clear for the moment, in order to catch up. A few blocks up Park, he did catch up, but the Bentley was in the left-hand lane, turning left.
“Shit!” Gino yelled.
“I’m sorry, sir, they switched lanes on me just as I was catching up to them.”
“Can you figure where they’re going?”
“They’re driving west on Sixty-sixth Street, so they could either turn downtown on Fifth Avenue or cross Central Park on that street.”
Gino watched his iPhone. “They’ve turned down Fifth Avenue,” he said. “How long to catch up with them?”
“No way of telling, sir, in this traffic.”
“Oh, the hell with it,” he said. Gino’s cell phone rang.
“Yeah?”
“It’s Joe Cross,” a man’s voice said.
“Dirty Joe, how are you?”
“Not so good. I missed another chance.”
“I’m not surprised to hear it. She’s in New York. What happened?”
“I caught her and this guy on a little island west of Key West, but the wind and water didn’t cooperate, and they had a friend on another boat who was armed. We had to get out of there fast, and as it was, the guy put a bullet in my radar, an expensive repair.”
“Add it to your bill,” Gino said, “and get your ass to New York.” He gave the man his new address. “Find a hotel nearby and be at my place at ten AM tomorrow.”
“Done. Can I overnight a package to myself at your address?”
“Containing what?”
“Firearms. I can’t buy them there, and I don’t know yet where my hotel will be.”
“Sure, you do that.” Gino hung up.
“You’re going to use him again?” Veronica asked.
“How many hit men do I know?” he whispered to her, conscious of the driver’s big ears.