“How was your limo ride back to work?” he asked.
“The Old Man was really sweet, wasn’t he? Either that, or he figured out what you and I were about to do and saved me from a fate worse than death.”
“Probably that one,” Stone said.
“Stone and I were having lunch, Dino, and…”
“He already told me,” Dino replied.
“Oh, oh, here we go,” Dierdre said, pointing at the TV. “Listen up.”
Dierdre’s face popped onto the screen, over a copse of microphones. “The district attorney’s office is pleased to announce that we have indicted and arrested Carmine Dattila on multiple charges of murder, attempted murder, extortion, abetting prostitution and abetting gambling.” TV Dierdre went on, but the real Dierdre was yelling at Gianni to change the channel back. She turned back to Stone. “I just wanted you to see that, so you’ll know I’m not lying.”
“Well, that’s great, Dierdre,” Stone said. “All this because of Herbie’s little tape?”
“Herbie’s little tape and the fact that Gus Castiglione rolled over this afternoon.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope. Turns out Cheech was his younger brother, and he was feeling just terrible about stabbing him repeatedly with a butcher knife. We had to get the poor thing a priest, and when that was done, he spilled his guts into a VCR and gave us names, dates, places and anything else we wanted. Believe me, this time Dattila is nailed.”
“If you can keep Gus alive,” Dino pointed out.
“And Herbie, too,” Stone mentioned.
“Gus is already in the safest house you ever saw, but that reminds me, where’s Herbie? We’ve got to put him on ice.”
“My best guess is he’s in East Hampton at an aunt’s house or, more likely, at the first singles’ bar he could find.”
“What’s the aunt’s name?”
“I don’t know. She’s married to a very successful plumber, though, if that helps.”
“Let’s see, this means that the aunt is Bob Cantor’s sister?”
“Very possibly.”
Dierdre dug a cell phone out of her purse and pressed a speed-dial number. “Hank? Get hold of Bob Cantor. Young Herbie is at Cantor’s sister’s house in East Hampton. Get the address from Cantor, find Herbie and ice him down good; I’ve already got the material witness warrant. The office will give you a copy. Right, see ya.” She put away the phone.
“It may not be as easy as that,” Stone said, “given my experience with Herbie, but it’s a start.”
She leaned into his ear and whispered, “After you’ve bought me a huge steak, we’re going back to your place, and I’m going to do to you everything you always dreamed about-every orifice, every position, as many times as you’re good for, kiddo.”
“Is a porterhouse big enough?”
“Why, Stone, I’ve never heard you call your dick a porterhouse, but I like the reference.”
Stone waved for a waiter.
45
They were sipping double espressos over the remains of the porterhouse and the cognacs that Elaine had sent over.
Stone spoke up. “Before you and I leave here I have to offer a disclaimer.”
“Offer away,” Dierdre said, sipping her cognac.
“Being in any way associated with me, at the moment, may be dangerous to your health. That’s why I didn’t call you after lunch.”
“Why, Stone, don’t tell me you’ve contracted a social disease.”
Dino broke in. “You’d better pay attention, Dierdre.”
“All right, be specific,” she said.
“A client of mine who had been hiding from a jealous boyfriend was killed last night.”
“The boyfriend was jealous of you?”
“Not just me, everybody. He’s nuts. His name is Devlin Daltry.”
“The sculptor?”
“Jesus, why is it that everybody knows about this guy, and I’d never heard of him until a couple of weeks ago?”
“He’s a very well-known artist,” Dierdre said.
“I am the son of two well-known artists,” Stone said, “and I have more than a passing interest in the arts, but somehow Devlin Daltry had escaped my notice until he started trying to kill me.”
“I thought it was your client he killed.”
“It was, but he ran me down with a car on Third Avenue last week. My body has many bruises, and this…” He held up his left hand to display the blue plastic cast. “…is a result of that incident.”
“My goodness, that’s a cast? And I thought it was a sex toy!”
“My point is, Dierdre, that this guy has been known to follow me around, and if he spots us together, you may very well be in danger.”
“I can handle myself,” Dierdre said.
“Are you packing?”
“Always. How did he kill your client?”
“After cutting the throat of the woman she was staying with in New Jersey, he decapitated my client. And she was the kind of woman who could take care of herself, too. She was six feet, three inches tall and no shrinking violet.”
“Was she packing?”
“She was. I loaned her one of my own weapons.”
Dierdre regarded him calmly. “I’d rather it were a social disease than a crazed killer,” she said, “but if he messes with me, I’ll shoot him, and as soon as I’m sure he’s dead, I’ll arrest him and prosecute him. Are the police looking for him?”
“They found him shortly after the killing at an art gallery opening in SoHo; witnesses put him there when the killing took place.”
“So he hired somebody?”
“Apparently.”
Dino spoke up. “It’s gotta be tough to hire somebody to cut off the head of a six-foot, three-inch woman with a gun.”
“Yeah, and a doctor on the scene said that the killer did it in a fit of rage,” Stone pointed out. “Professional killers don’t do rage.”
“Now that you mention it,” Dierdre said, “I’ve never heard of rage in the case of a pro who was prosecuted. Those guys just walk up to you, put two in your head and walk away. Cold is their trademark.”
“Give us the benefit of your experience, Dierdre,” Dino said. “What does it mean when a guy kills by proxy and there’s rage involved?”
“Well, Daltry has to be enraged in order to go far enough to arrange her death.”
“Yeah, but what about the hiree?”
“I suppose he could have hired a crazy person to do it, somebody who hates women, maybe.”
“He hired somebody to run me down, too,” Stone said. “He had another airtight alibi.”
“An enraged serial killer using a surrogate?” Dierdre asked.
“Seems unlikely, doesn’t it?” Dino said. “Serials may be enraged, but they do their own killing.”
“Dino,” Dierdre said, “go to the men’s room and take your time.”
“Okay,” Dino replied. He got up and walked away.
Dierdre leaned into Stone. “Okay, I’ve heard your disclaimer, and I still want you. I have a disclaimer, too.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“This isn’t love, it’s sex. When I get horny, I do something about it, and I’m not talking about using my hand.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not going to cling to you, stalk you or make your life miserable. All I want from this relationship is an occasional drink or steak and a spectacular roll in the hay. We clear on that?”
“Perfectly clear.”
“Then let’s get out of here.” She stood up and started for the door.
Stone was right behind her. “Dino will get the check,” he said to Gianni. He kissed Elaine on the cheek as he passed her, and by the time he got outside, she was in a cab with the door open, waiting. Stone took a second to check out the block, then he got in.
“Anybody following us?” she asked, as they drove down Second Avenue.
“We seem to be alone,” Stone replied.
Dierdre undressed him slowly, kissing him here and there, then she shucked off her own clothes, revealing a body that had everything her dress had promised. She ran her fingers over his bruises. “That’s the worst bruising I’ve ever seen on anybody who wasn’t a corpse,” she said. “Poor baby.” She pushed him back onto the bed and began kissing him more purposefully.