Стюарт Вудс - Contraband

“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.

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’.

When she was gone a handsome man in his forties and a beautifully cut suit materialized at the table. “How do you do?” he said, extending a hand. “I’m Randall Hedger.”

Herb shook the hand. “Herb Fisher.”

“And why are you having lunch with my wife?” Hedger asked, as if he had a right to know.

“A business meeting.”

“What business are you in, Mr. Fisher?”

“I’m an attorney.”

“With what firm?”

“Woodman & Weld.”

“Ah, yes, and what is your specialty?”

“Today, divorce.”

Hedger looked suddenly concerned. “Whose?”

Herb took an envelope from his briefcase and handed it to Hedger. “Yours,” he said. “You’ve been served.”

Hedger opened the envelope and scanned the documents.

“You may have noticed that one of the documents is a temporary restraining order, which means that, until the divorce is final, you may not approach Ms. Calder any closer than three hundred feet, which at the moment means anywhere in this restaurant.” Herb snapped his briefcase closed and set it down. “You may go now, Mr. Hedger.”

Hedger turned on his heel and, tucking the papers into a pocket, made his way across the restaurant and down the stairs. Toward the exit.

Robbie returned from the ladies’ and sat down, simultaneous with the arrival of her second martini.

“That man you were talking to is my husband.”

“He informed me of that, and during the resulting conversation I was able to inform him of his impending divorce, serve him, and explain the TRO.”

“What will the next step be?”

“A call to me from his attorney, I expect. But since you are not asking for alimony or any division of property, it will be a brief conversation.”

“And then?”

“He will either fold or contest the divorce, in which case I will turn him into mincemeat. And if he tries to get any of your money, I’ll humiliate him.”

“Oh, good,” she said, and raised her glass.

The following morning, Max was seated with Dino and Viv, who rarely missed an opportunity to travel with Stone, in the rear of the Latitude, with Stone in the left pilot’s seat and Faith in the right. A third pilot traveled in the jump seat.

Stone flew the departure procedure, then got a climb directive to FL440 and headed west. Once he was at altitude and on course, he was replaced by Faith in the left seat and the spare pilot in the right, and he walked back, sat down with the others, and picked up the Times. “Everybody comfortable? Can I get anyone anything?”

“I’ll have a double scotch,” Dino said.

“He will not!” Viv said reprovingly. “It’s ten AM!”

“Don’t worry, I’m just trying to annoy you,” Dino said.

“Well, it’s working, so stop it. Sometimes I think I should just give him a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label with a nipple on it,” Viv said.