“Ah, yes,” Stone said. “I remember. Do you, Shep?”
“I guess it could be the same woman,” Shep replied, walking over and looking at her more closely. “Yeah, it is. I didn’t recognize her in the changed circumstances.”
“That’s understandable,” Stone said. “Neither did I, at first.”
A voice came from the door. “Okay, everybody, out of the way.” The medical examiner, a large man carrying a black bag, bustled into the room and walked over to the bed. He pulled the covers back, looked over the body, listened to the chest with his stethoscope, then turned it over and examined it again, finally returning it to its original position. “This woman is dead,” he said.
“Always the one for understatement, Leo,” Dino said.
The ME produced a thermometer and inserted it into her anus, then read the numbers on an attached electronic accessory.
“Somewhere between six and eight hours.” He took a small zippered bag from his larger one and did a vaginal examination, swabbing the area, then placing the swabs in a slim bottle and capping it. “She had sex before she died, maybe more than once, but there’s no immediate appearance of semen. Preliminary cause of death, strangulation. I’ll know more when I get her on my table, but that concludes my prelim. The investigator can have her now.”
“Let’s go back to the living room,” Dino said, “and let the guys do their work.”
“What work is that?” Shep asked.
“Looking for trace evidence, hairs and such,” Dino said. “Don’t you watch TV?”
“Can I put some clothes on?” Shep asked.
“Nope. The investigator is going to want a look at you, too. Let’s go have some coffee.”
They got their coffee and sipped it silently, until the crime scene analyst joined them. “Mr. Troutman,” he said. “Have you showered or bathed this morning?”
“No,” Shep replied.
“Please come with me, and we’ll have a look at you.” He led Shep into his bedroom and closed the door. A few minutes later, the analyst returned. “Okay, your man’s clean,” he said. “He’s showering now, and he wants you to wait for him.”
Two attendants entered the suite with a gurney and departed with the body. The maid came back.
“Can I change the room, now?”
Dino nodded.
Stone poured them some more coffee, and eventually, Shep came out, dressed in a tracksuit. “Thanks for waiting,” he said. “Where am I in all this?” he asked.
“Innocent,” Stone said, “as far as I can tell.”
“I agree,” Dino said. “Your story is backed up by the maid, and the analyst didn’t find anything. The murder occurred when you were still in the hospital.”
“How did the woman and whoever killed her get in here?”
“My guess is she’d used this apartment before you moved in. She got ahold of a key card somehow, brought her trick up here, and delivered her service, then he strangled her and left.”
“Why?”
Stone shrugged. “Maybe she asked for too much money, and that made him mad. These things should always be negotiated up front.”
“Why was the maid here?”
“It’s her job. She probably came in, called out for you and didn’t get an answer, then went to work.”
“Dino?” Shep asked.
“That’s as good a guess as any. I mean, the guy didn’t leave the cash on the dresser, and the analyst didn’t mention finding any.”
“Maybe I should go back to Massachusetts,” Shep said.
“Don’t deprive us of your company,” Stone replied. “Statistically, I think you’ve used up all your opportunities to experience violence.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Were you thinking of going running?” Stone asked.
“Yes.”
“Don’t. You’re recovering from a concussion, so you should just rest. Read a book or watch TV.”
Dino rose. “I’ll let you know if your Rolex turns up,” he said.
“Take it easy the next day or two,” Stone said, then they both left.
They got on the elevator. “I hope we don’t hear from him again anytime soon,” Dino said.
Six
Stone worked through the day and at about quitting time, Joan buzzed. “Charley Fox on one,” she said.
Stone punched the button. “Hey, Charley.”
“Hey, Stone. I had a weirdo in here about an hour ago, said you sent him.”
“The only person I’ve sent you recently is Shepherd Troutman.”
“That’s the guy. Is he nuts or what?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Well, he’d hardly sat down when he started telling me these stories — he was beaten up on the street, and again in Central Park. He found a dead hooker in his bed this morning, like that.”
“Gee, Charley, why do you think that’s weird? These things happen in the big city. How’d you leave it with him?”
“I told him to wire me some money to open an account, then we’d talk.”
“Did he?”
“Did he what?”
“Wire you some money.”
“I dunno. I haven’t checked.”
“Well, check it and call me back.” Stone hung up.
A minute later, Charley called back. “I checked, and he wired me some money.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred and fifty million dollars. A quarter of a billion. My bank confirmed it. What, is he crazy, wiring a stranger that kind of money?”
“I sent him to you, Charley. That’s all you need to know about his character. Now do you think he’s real?”
“I think his money is real.”
“Well, everything else he told you was real, too. He’s new in town, and he has the worst luck of anybody I’ve ever met.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Figure out some investments for him, get his approval, and buy. That’s what you do, isn’t it? And while you’re at it, get him to sign the documents making him a client. I wouldn’t want you to get yourself arrested this early in the relationship.”
“I’ll call him right now.” Charley hung up.
A few minutes later, Joan buzzed again. “Mike Freeman on one.” Mike Freeman was CEO of Strategic Services, the second-largest security company in the world, and a partner in an investment company, Triangle Investments, with Stone and Charley Fox.
“Hey, Mike.”
“Hey, Stone. I hear Charley just picked up an interesting new client.”
“Not interesting, fascinating.”
“Did all that stuff really happen to him?”
“It did. I saw the results in all three cases.”
“This gentleman sounds as if he needs some personal security services. Should I call him?”
“It’s better if I call him, then get him to call you.”
“I’ll sit here, huddled by the phone.”
“See you.” Stone hung up. Almost immediately, Joan buzzed. “Shep Troutman on one.”
“Hello, Shep.”
“Hi, Stone. I went to see your friend, Charley Fox. I think he may have thought I was crazy. He hustled me out of there pretty quick, said he’d get back to me.”
“That’s my fault, Shep. I didn’t brief Charley about you, so he wasn’t quite ready.”
“Well, I guess I might have thought I was crazy, too, if a guy like me walked into my office and told me about my recent experiences.”
“Charley got your wire transfer, and he’s already hard at work on an investment strategy for you. I suggest you make an appointment with him tomorrow and hear what he has to say. You’ll need to sign some documents, too, to open your account with him.”
“I had a message from him, but I haven’t had a moment to get back to him.”