Стюарт Вудс - Contraband

“At a restaurant called Patroon, with Dino and Viv Bacchetti.”

“Then I’ll need a new dress. I believe there’s a store in this town called Saks Fifth Avenue.”

“I’ll alert Fred. He’ll save you a lot of time by driving you from shop to shop. He knows where they all are.”

“Just let me finish my drink,” she said.

Stone handed her a credit card. “Shopping is on me,” he said. “Get whatever you want, sign my name. If anybody gives you a hard time, show them your badge and tell them to call me.”

“Perhaps we should start at Bloomingdale’s,” Fred said to Max when they were in the car.

“I’ve heard of that,” Max said.

“Lots of shops, all in one place. Start on the second floor.” He drove her to the Third Avenue entrance and gave her a card. “Phone me when you’re ready to leave,” he said.

Max got out of the car and, as Fred suggested, took the escalator to the second floor, where she stopped and looked around. “Wonderland,” she said aloud to herself.

Two hours later, Max appeared on the sidewalk with two suitcases on wheels. Fred got out to help her. “I decided that suitcases were better than shopping bags, since I have to get all this stuff back to Key West anyway.”

“That’s very forward-thinking of you,” Fred said, stowing the cases in the trunk and opening a rear door for her.

They entered Patroon, and Max turned every head as they walked to their table, where Dino and Viv awaited.

Viv applauded. “What an entrance!” she said. “And what a dress! You’ll capture the city!”

“Thank you, Viv,” Max said, and they air-kissed. “Hey, Dino.”

“Hey, Max.”

“Is this your first trip to New York?” Viv asked, as a waiter arrived with drinks.

“No, I’ve been here once before, my senior year in high school, on our class trip. We stayed in a seedy hotel on Forty-Second Street and saw all the sights from a bus, so at least I don’t have to take that tour again.”

“I have the feeling,” Stone said, “that Max will be spending most of her time here on Fifth and Madison Avenues. She has deigned to spend the evenings with me.”

Max told them about her misadventures with Al Dix, and they had a wonderful evening.

After a half hour of working their way around each other’s bodies, Stone and Max lay, panting and trying to talk.

“I’m going to stop worrying about Al Dix,” Max managed to say.

Stone didn’t have enough breath to get through a sentence that long. “Good,” he replied.

“I mean, he’s this scrawny little Key West rat who got himself into whatever he’s in, and dammit, he can find his own way out of it.”

“Very good,” Stone said, having recovered a little more of his breath.

“I mean, it’s not like he’s tied to a chair somewhere being waterboarded, is it?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Why would anybody torture him, anyway? They already know what he knows.”

“Then why didn’t they leave him in his hospital bed?” Stone asked, now breathing something close to normally.

“I don’t think anybody kidnapped him. I think Dixie went looking for the money they owed him for flying that airplane.”

“Maybe they wouldn’t pay him because he left the plane at the bottom of the lagoon, along with their cargo.”

“Well, they got their cargo back, didn’t they? And anyway, smugglers look at airplanes as disposable. I got sent to Colombia once on a case, a long time ago, and the beaches there were littered with airplanes that didn’t make it to an airport. It’s just their cost of doing business.”

“I think you’re forgetting that they’ve already tried to kill Dix once.”

“You’re just a theory-smasher, aren’t you?” she said, fondling him.

“I believe you’re going to find that equipment temporarily out of service.”

“No,” she said, redoubling her efforts. “It seems to be rising to the occasion.” She mounted him.

“What a nice view,” Stone said, looking up at her.

“I can tell you think so,” she replied. “Tomorrow, I’m going to shop for a coat.”

“You don’t need a coat for this,” Stone said, getting into the rhythm of things.

“For outside, dummy. It’s New York, not Key West. The thermometer here works in both directions.”

“So do you,” Stone said. They forgot about shopping and Al Dix and concentrated on the business at hand.

Three days into Max’s visit, Joan had already shipped three stuffed suitcases back to her house in Key West — and Max was packing a fourth. At dinnertime, wearing a new dress and a cashmere topcoat, she walked ahead of Stone into Caravaggio, a favorite of his and the Bacchettis’, who awaited them.

“Smashing coat, lovely dress,” Viv commented.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Max replied, slipping into her seat.

“That coat won’t come in handy in Key West,” Dino said.

“It may surprise you to learn, Dino,” Max replied, “that I do not live my entire life in Key West. Occasionally, I travel north, and I want to be ready.”

“Well, we do seem to be in the throes of an early autumn,” Stone contributed.

“Be ready for anything, that’s my motto,” Max said.

“How’s your Al Dix case coming along in your absence?” Dino asked.

Stone groaned. “You had to bring that up? I’ve finally managed to make her forget it for a few minutes.”

“I have forgotten it,” Max replied, “and we’ll say no more about it.”

“Thank you,” Stone said.

“I did talk the Coast Guard into getting me an engine number off the airplane, the next time they’re out there,” Max said.

Stone groaned again.

“Just something to think about when they get around to it.”

The maître d’ arrived and issued them menus.

“What’s osso buco?” Max asked the table.

Dino held up a forearm and pointed at it. “This,” he said, then made chopping motions, “except it’s from a small cow.”

“Sounds perfect,” she said, “and I’ll start with the Caesar salad.”

The others ordered, too.

Max’s phone rang, and she rolled her eyes.

“Go ahead, answer it,” Stone said.

“I won’t be a moment,” she replied, taking her phone to the ladies’ room.

“Not another word about her case, Dino,” Stone said after she was gone.

“I was just curious. The case intrigues me.”

“It intrigues me, too,” Stone said, “and that’s the problem. We’re not going to solve it in New York, and I’d just as soon not flog it to death.”

“Dino,” Viv said, “shut up about the case.”

Dino raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, we don’t have anything new, anyway.”

Max came back from the ladies’ room and sat down. She said nothing about the call.

“No emergencies in Key West, I hope,” Stone said.

“No, just a chat with my partner, Tommy Scully.”

“Oh.”

Their salads came, and they began to eat. Nobody said a word, and soon the salads had disappeared.

“Anything new?” Dino asked.

“Dino!” Viv said. “Shut up.”

“Well, there was kind of a development,” Max said.

“All right,” Stone said resignedly. “What did Tommy have to say?”

Max said nothing.

“Please,” Dino said, and Viv jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow.

“Come on,” Stone said, “cough it up.”

“The Coast Guard sent a cutter to Fort Jefferson,” she said, “on sort of a training mission.”

“ Sort of a training mission?” Dino asked.

“Dino,” Viv said, picking up a knife. “Next is a blade in the knee.”

Dino clapped a hand over his mouth and raised the other in surrender.