“Fan mail?” he asked, indicating the pile of paper on the desk.
“In a manner of speaking,” Max replied. “They all want money.”
“It’s the human condition,” Tommy said sadly. “Everybody wants money — and not just money, but somebody else’s money.”
Max found an envelope in the desk drawer and handed it to Tommy. “There you are,” she said, “a lifetime lease for your new house with no rent — that’s yours and your wife’s lifetimes, not mine. You get to pay the taxes.”
“I thank you,” Tommy said, stuffing the envelope into an inside pocket. “My wife thanks you and my current neighbors, who will be glad to see us go, thank you.”
“All of you are welcome.” She handed him the aircraft information. “This arrived from Opa Locka, no signature.”
“I guess ol’ Burt really does crave your body,” Tommy said.
A dozen phone calls later, Max hung up. “The aircraft’s owner is South Florida Import & Export, a Delaware corporation. The address of record is the name of an attorney at a P.O. box in Wilmington, Delaware.”
“Well, that takes care of that. I can tell you from experience that no phone calls will be returned and no mail forwarded or replied to.
“The only thing left to do is to persuade our captain to post a twenty-four-hour guard on the hangar until somebody shows up, but I don’t think he will be able to find it in his budget to do that, unless sex is involved.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Max said. “Why don’t you offer to fuck him?”
“I’m not his type,” Tommy said, “but you sure are.”
“It appears I’m everybody’s type,” Max said. “All I can think to do is to wait for Al Dix to surface.”
“Funny, that’s all I can think to do, too,” Tommy said. “Why don’t I just call the office and see if there are reports of any stolen bicycles?”
“Why don’t we just go to lunch,” Max said.
Another lunch, more than a thousand miles away, was just concluding. After a few mimosas over their steaks, Stone said, “Robbie, I believe I have misjudged your intentions about taking the needed steps to permanently separate yourself from your husband. I believe you are sincere and will take those steps immediately after we remove your name from the adultery-bait list.”
“And how do we do that?”
“We go to my house, instead of yours.”
“Never mind dessert,” she said, picking up her handbag.
“You are dessert,” he replied.
The shadows were growing long in Stone’s bedroom when Robbie gently shook him awake.
“Give me a few minutes,” Stone muttered, yawning.
“You can go back to sleep, sweetie,” she said. “I just want to know where my underwear is.”
“Strewn about the master suite, I should think.”
“Okay. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go home and call a locksmith.”
“Good girl,” he said. “By the way, one of my partners at Woodman & Weld, Herbert Fisher, will be handling the details of your divorce.”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“Because it is considered unethical, in legal circles, for an attorney to have carnal knowledge of his client. If your soon-to-be ex-husband should suspect, he could make a lot of trouble for me, and from what you’ve told me about him, he would not hesitate to do so. So, if we are to continue to enjoy each other’s company, Herb Fisher will be your attorney of record. All I did was give you some informal advice and refer you to him. I’ll have Herb call you tomorrow.”
“Good. I’ll have worked through your checklist by then,” Robbie said.
21
Joan came into his office first thing in the morning. “Good day, boss. Have you checked your calendar for this week?”
“No, I haven’t,” he said.
Joan picked up his iPhone from the desk, tapped a few keys, and handed it to him. “You will recall, surely, that I informed you of this meeting two weeks ago?”
Stone looked at the calendar. Two days hence was a notation: Centurion Board Meeting, 11:00 am, Executive Dining Room.
“Oh, shit,” Stone breathed.
“Aha! I thought so! You had no idea, did you?”
“Of course I knew about it,” Stone replied testily. “Tell Faith to have the airplane ready to go tomorrow morning, wheels up at ten AM.”
“I told her yesterday,” Joan said, then turned and marched out of his office.
Stone did some quick thinking, then called Herb Fisher.
“Hey, Stone. Thanks for the referral.”
“I want you to set up a meeting with her at lunch tomorrow and present her with the relevant paperwork to sign, including the TRO.”
“Okay. You going to join us?”
“No, I have to go to L.A. for a board meeting tomorrow morning. And, anyway, I want to keep her at arm’s length, no discussion of legal matters in my presence.”
“I believe I get the picture,” Herb said wryly. “I’ll do the initial interview today, then lunch tomorrow. What’s her husband’s name?”
“I’ve no idea, but I’m sure she does.”
“Okay, I’m on it. Enjoy the California sunshine.”
“I certainly will.” Stone hung up and called Max.
“This is Max.”
“Are you driving?”
“About to.”
“Don’t. Listen instead.”
“I’m listening.”
“How’s your case going?”
“As dead as yesterday’s mackerel.”
“How would you like to fly to L.A. with me tomorrow for a long weekend?”
“Where do I have to be and when?”
“In New York later today. Let me know your flight number, and Fred will meet you.”
“What will I need in the way of wardrobe?”
“Casual chic, I believe the expression is.”
“Got it.”
“Anything you forget we can fill in on Rodeo Drive.”
“I’m off and running.” She hung up.
“I get the impression you’re abandoning me,” Tommy said.
“Right again, Tommy. It’s not like we have anything to work on.” She called her captain and told him she was taking the rest of the week off.
“Are you coming back?” the captain asked. He knew she didn’t need the job anymore.
“Probably,” she replied. “Thanks, Cap.” She hung up and called American Express Travel.
Herb Fisher met his new client at the Grill, the old Four Seasons, which was in the Woodman & Weld office building and, therefore, convenient.
He shook her hand and sat her down. “I’m sure we could both use a drink, but business first,” he said. He put his briefcase on the table, opened it, and extracted her file, then handed her the principal document. “Read this through, and if the particulars are correct, sign it.” He looked over at the bar, saw his secretary waiting, and waved her over.
“Looks good to me,” she said.
Herb’s secretary arrived at the table, took a seat, and removed some things from her purse.
“This is my secretary, Karen,” he said. “Karen, our new client, Roberta Calder.” The two women shook hands, and Robbie began signing documents, while Karen notarized those that needed it. They were done in a few minutes.
“Is that it?” Robbie asked. “If it is, I’d like a dirty vodka martini, with an anchovy in the olive.”
Karen closed her bag and left.
Herb ordered the drinks. “How are you feeling?” he asked Robbie.
“A little nervous,” she said, “but that will go away when the martini arrives.”
Her martini arrived, along with his scotch. “To freedom,” Herb said, and they drank.
A waiter appeared with the lunch menu and they ordered, then Robbie left for a visit to the ladies’.