Стюарт Вудс - Standup Guy

“You want my apartment?”

“No, Harry, but remember, it’s the husband’s apartment, and his relatives would sure be interested, I’ll bet.”

“Why would you do something like that?”

“Why would you run an ad in the Palm Beach paper?”

“You’re Fratelli, aren’t you?”

“Is that what you think, Harry? Tell me, are you sitting in the sports bar, having a Cutty Sark and water? That’s where you could be found any evening, isn’t it? Or in your apartment later, fast asleep. And the service elevator isn’t manned at night, is it? And all those elderly retirees are asleep, just like you.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“You bet your sweet ass. I’m in a position to shut your life down, Harry. This time next year, you wouldn’t be sitting in the sports bar drinking scotch, you’d be sitting on a curb somewhere, drinking muscatel from a bottle.”

“Listen to me, Fratelli.”

“You listen to me, Harry. First of all, that name never passes your lips again, for any reason, you got me?”

“All right.”

“And another thing—even if you sell the apartment and get your money out of it, I can always find you, and believe me, I could snap your neck like a twig. You getting the message?”

Moss was sweating now. “I understand.”

“From now on, then, it’s live and let live?”

“Live and let live,” Moss said, mopping his face. “I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

“Thank you, Harry. Never disturb me again. You won’t like the consequences.”

The man hung up. Moss went to his recent calls and found it. Private number.

“Jerry,” he said, “give me another Cutty Sark and water.”

“Sure thing, Harry. You feeling okay? You’re looking kind of pale.”

“Just give me the drink,” Moss said.

50

Stone’s bell rang a couple of minutes after seven, as he was walking down the stairs. He turned off the alarm and opened the front door.

“Hi,” Hank said. “I’m thirsty. Can a girl get a drink here?”

“Very possibly,” Stone replied. “Come right in.” He closed the door behind her and set the alarm again.

“You always do that?” she asked.

“Just a habit,” he said. “Only one button to push, ARM.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she said.

“You read that somewhere.” He led her into the study. “What would you like?”

“A very dry vodka martini, please.”

He shoveled some ice into a glass and filled it with water, and while it chilled, speared a couple of anchovy-stuffed olives with a long toothpick. He emptied the ice and water from the glass, dropped the olives into it, and poured the martini from a premixed bottle in the freezer. He handed it to her, then he filled an old-fashioned glass with ice, filled it again with Knob Creek, and raised his glass. “To the resumption of your normal existence,” he said.

“God, I’ll drink to that!” She took a big sip from her martini. “That is breathtaking!”

“Are you settling down yet after your ordeal?”

“I am. I’m going back to work on Monday.”

“Tuesday. Monday’s a holiday.”

“Right, so I get another day off. What will I do with myself?”

“Hang around here, why don’t you? We can . . .”

“Fuck our brains out all weekend?”

“Good idea!” He opened the desk drawer, took out a key, and handed it to her. “You can come and go as you please.”

“I don’t suppose I’ll need a change of clothes.”

Stone smiled. “As far as I’m concerned, you won’t need clothes at all.”

“A naked weekend,” she said, smiling. “I like it.”

“We can cook for each other.”

“You cook?”

“Not as well as you, but I dabble.”

“I suppose I’ll have to put clothes on to go up to Grace’s Market.”

“Yes, unless you want a ride home in a police car.”

“On my way, I’ll pick up something more casual. I haven’t been shopping for way too long.”

“As you wish.”

They settled into the sofa and sipped their drinks.

“How have your spent your time off?” Stone asked.

“Mostly just vegging and watching old movies on TV.”

“What did you watch?”

“Singin’ in the Rain , Gone with the Wind , The Best Years of Our Lives.”

“All favorites of mine, too. My son is a moviemaker. Did I tell you?”

“No. What’s he done?”

“A little independent called Autumn Kill that cost nothing to make and earned sixty-something million, worldwide.”

“Wow, he must be very good.”

“He certainly is. He has a deal at Centurion Studios, and he’s out there now, completing his second film.”

They nattered on for an hour and had a second drink.

• • •

Dino was working late when he got a phone call from the lead detective on the Bats Buono murder. “What’s happening, kid? Any luck on nabbing Marty Parese?”

“’Fraid not, Chief. Apparently, he took a powder when we raided the chop shop. Nobody will admit laying eyes on him. We’re running down some leads, though.”

“Anything new on the girl? Hank?”

“Not a thing. Her only involvement is as a victim, far as I can tell.”

“Okay, keep me posted.” Dino hung up and called Stone.

• • •

“Excuse me,” Stone said to Hank, picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hiya, pal.”

“Hey, Dino.”

“Just wanted to give you an update. We haven’t been able to find Marty Parese. He blew after the raid on the chop shop.”

“Oh, well,” Stone said.

“Better news—Hank is no longer considered a suspect.”

“That is good news. She’s here now, we’re having a drink and going to the Four Seasons. You and Viv want to join us?”

“Can’t do it—we’re both working late. Tomorrow night? We’ll drink some of your booze.”

“Sure.”

“We’ll let ourselves in.”

“See you then.”

They both hung up.

“How’s Dino?” Hank asked.

“He’s good, and he had a couple of pieces of news: they’ve been looking for a guy named Marty Parese, who was Buono’s partner, but no luck. Apparently, he made himself scarce after the raid on the chop shop.”

“Oh, yeah, I met him once. Onofrio introduced us in a restaurant.”

“The good news: you’re no longer a suspect.”

“That’s a relief, I guess. I’d better let Herb Fisher know.”

“You ready for some dinner?”

“I’m starving. I’ve never been to the Four Seasons.”

“It will be my pleasure to introduce you.”

Stone let them out the front door. “You saw how to arm the system going out. This is how you disarm it when you come in.” He showed her the six-digit code, then rearmed the system and locked the door behind them. They cabbed it the few blocks to the restaurant and were soon seated at a poolside table in the main dining room.

• • •

An hour and a half later, Hank dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “That was just wonderful,” she said.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I have to go to the little girls’ room.”

“It’s on the way out. I’ll show you.” Stone signed the check, then led her downstairs. “I’ll get a cab and wait for you outside.”

Hank disappeared into the ladies’ room, and Stone asked the doorman for a cab. Nearly ten minutes passed before he found one, and Hank was just coming out the door.

• • •

Minutes later, Stone let them into the house, and after he had rearmed the system, they took the elevator upstairs.

They made love for half an hour or so, then collapsed in each other’s arms. Sometime in the night, Stone rolled over and was surprised to find her side of the bed empty, but she returned from the direction of her bathroom and crawled back in with him.