Stuart Woods - Dirty Work

"Stop here," Marie-Therese said. "Sir Edward, you will accompany these gentlemen to the main entrance of the library, then you will be free to go." Grabbing the wheels, she maneuvered the wheelchair through a rest room door bearing a handicapped-use sign.

"Let's go," Stone said, indicating the way for Sir Edward.

Marie-Therese locked the door, shed some clothes, and produced others and a wig from her large handbag. A quick check in the mirror, and she left the rest room, abandoning the wheelchair and her other clothes. She returned to Bryant Park and headed toward Sixth Avenue. As she reached the sidewalk, half a dozen men ran past her as she hailed a cab.

Stone paused at the top of the library's front steps. "That concludes our transaction, Sir Edward."

"I should bloody well hope so," Sir Edward replied.

"You couldn't just play it straight, could you? So much for the word of an English gentleman."

"Oh, go roger yourself," Sir Edward said, sweat rolling down his face.

"You should get out of that body armor before you have a heart attack," Dino said. "Let's go, Stone." He led the way down the front steps, and they got into Dino's car, which was waiting at the curb. "Where to?"

"Home, I guess." The car moved off.

"And where is Marie-Therese now?" Dino asked.

"I don't know," Stone said, "and I don't want to know."

Marie-Therese opened her cell phone and dialed the number on the bank receipt Sir Edward had given her.

"Wire transfer department," a woman's voice said.

Marie-Therese read off the account number from the sheet in her hand.

"What is your code?"

"Structure."

"Accepted. What are your instructions?"

"Wire the full amount to the following number at Saint George's Bank, Cayman Islands." She recited an account number.

The woman repeated the number for confirmation. "The funds will be in your account tomorrow morning," she said.

"Why not today?" Marie-Therese asked.

"Transfers must be made before two p.m., or they go out the following business day."

"Make an exception," Marie-Therese said.

"I'm afraid it's a nationwide banking rule," the woman replied. "Good day." She hung up.

Marie-Therese dialed Stone's cell phone number.

"Yes?"

"The bank won't wire the funds until tomorrow morning."

"That's normal. Transfers have to be made by two p.m."

"All right," she said. "I'll check with my bank in the morning, and if the funds are not there…"

"Please, don't tell me," Stone said.

"You'll hear from me if the money isn't there."

"I'd rather not hear from you again, Marie-Therese."

"What about your bill?"

"Consider my services pro bono," Stone said. "Now please disappear, and have a happy life."

"Check your coat pocket," she said. "And thank you for your help, Stone." She hung up.

Stone felt his pockets. There was something in one of them. He reached in and pulled out an envelope. Inside was a thick wad of one-hundred-dollar bills.

"Looks like about ten grand," Dino said. "Don't forget to report it on your tax return. And you're buying dinner tonight."

Stone and Dino had just sat down at Elaine's, when Carpenter walked in.

Dino waved her to a seat. Stone ignored her greeting.

"Whatever Dino's having," she said to a waiter.

"A nice single malt, on Stone," Dino said.

"Quite a day, eh?" Carpenter said. The waiter set down her drink, and she raised her glass. "To a job well done by the firm of Barrington and Bacchetti."

Dino raised his glass. "I'll drink to that."

Stone left his glass on the table.

"What's the matter with you?" Dino asked.

"She was in the chopper," Stone said to Dino. He turned to Carpenter. "Who was the shooter? Mason?"

"Mason was the best shot in the Royal Marines, a few years back," she replied. "He keeps his hand in."

"But you were calling the shot, weren't you?"

"No, Sir Edward did that, when he took off his hat. I called it off."

"But you wouldn't have, if Dino hadn't been there, would you?"

"If Dino and you hadn't been there. That was very clever of you."

"I knew it was the only way I could keep her alive."

"It was."

"Well, I've learned something from this experience," Stone said.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Never trust an English gentleman, or an English gentlelady, for that matter."

"It's like they say in your Mafia," she replied. "It wasn't personal, it was business."

"Forgive me if I take it personally."

"That's up to you."

"Stone and I take a different view of this," Dino said. "I understand your position. I may even have some sympathy for it."

"Thank you," Carpenter replied. "It's nice to get a little understanding from somebody."

Stone picked up a menu. "Anybody want some dinner?"

"I'm starved," Carpenter said. "I'll have whatever Dino's having."

"Smart girl," Dino said. "We'll try the osso buco," he told the waiter.

"Same here," Stone said, "and tell Barry to make it with polenta, instead of pasta. And bring us a bottle of the Amarone."

"Why do you prefer the polenta to the pasta?" Carpenter asked.

"My necktie prefers it," Stone replied.

"Tuck your napkin into your collar, the English way."

"I intend to, even with the polenta."

"So," Dino said, "what are your plans now, Felicity?"

"Oh, I may stick around New York for a while. It's time I got back to the work I came here to do, before La Biche so rudely interrupted it."

"And what work was that?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you, Dino."

"She's afraid the NYPD might interfere," Stone said. "During the past few days Carpenter and her people have broken more New York laws than a Mafia family."

"Well, as long as they don't do it in the Nineteenth Precinct, and frighten the patrol cars."

Elaine came and sat down. "So?"

Stone shrugged.

"It's a pity you weren't here a minute ago," Dino said to her. "You missed Stone's display of moral outrage."

"Yeah? We don't get a lot of that around here, except when the Yankees or the Knicks lose."

Their dinner came, and Elaine moved on to another table.

"This is delicious," Carpenter said.

"The best in New York," Dino replied. "Better than I've had in Italy, come to think of it."

Stone ate half his dinner and stopped.

"What's the matter with you?" Dino asked. "I never saw you leave osso buco on a plate."

"I'm still thinking about this afternoon, I guess, and it's not doing my appetite any good." He waved at a waiter. "Wild Turkey on the rocks."

"You haven't finished your wine," Carpenter said.

Stone poured his glass into hers. "You finish it for me. Wine isn't strong enough tonight." The bourbon came, and he took a large swig.

"Uh-oh," Dino said. "I'm going to have to send him home in a patrol car tonight."

"Does it happen often?" Carpenter asked.

"Couple of times a year, maybe. Usually, it's a woman."

"It's a woman tonight," Stone said.

"Anybody we know?" Dino asked.

Stone looked directly at Carpenter for the first time that evening. "She's not a hundred miles from this table."

"Oh, I like the thought of driving a man to drink," Carpenter said.

Stone stared into his bourbon.

"You don't get it, do you?" Carpenter said.

"No, I don't."

"It's a war, and we've got to win it."

"You won the First World War and lost a million men, a whole generation of leadership. You won the Second World War and had your cities and your industry reduced to smoking rubble and lost your empire. What do you hope to win this time?"

Carpenter shrugged. "Some sort of peace."

"At what price?"

"Whatever it takes."

"I admire your commitment, but not your tactics," Stone said.