Stuart Woods - Kisser

“I might have known,” Stone said. “Ms. Baldwin would like you to be an undercover agent for her in the pursuit of Sig Larsen. What shall I tell her?”

“Does she know I’m a cop?”

“No.”

“I’d better speak to Brian about this, then.”

“Do it now; Tiffany is an impatient woman.”

“You should know,” Mitzi said, with a vocal leer. “I’ll get back to you.” She hung up.

Stone went back to his sandwich, which had grown cold. He nuked it for a few seconds, then started to eat again. The phone rang.

“Stone Barrington.”

“It’s Brian Doyle, your commanding officer.”

“Go fuck yourself, commander.”

“I hear you’ve got the U.S. Attorney trying to poach one of my people.”

“You sent her the fucking prospectus without taking my name off it, as requested. That’s why she called me.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Nothing. I refused her to give her my client’s-Mitzi’s-name. She wants to use her to get at Larsen.”

“I’m using her to get at Sharpe.”

“Look, if you’d shown some interest in busting Larsen, this wouldn’t have happened. Trust me, Tiffany Baldwin is going to gnaw away at this case until she knows everything, so my advice to you is to call her right now and offer to share the fruits of your investigation and the use of your undercover officer in making a federal case against Larsen. Maybe Sharpe, too. It’s an easier way for you to get him off the street.”

“But without the credit.”

“So work out a credit-sharing plan with Tiff. She’ll keep her word if you get it in writing.”

“Why did you get me into this shit, Stone?”

“You got you into this shit, Brian, and unless you call Ms. Baldwin right now, she’s liable to approach you through the commissioner. It would be a lot better if you could tell the commissioner you got the Feds involved and worked out a deal with them.”

Doyle didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Look,” Stone said, “if she calls me back, I’m going to have to tell her more.”

“Don’t threaten me, Stone.”

“It’s how it is, Brian. Now go deal with it.” Stone hung up. His sandwich was cold again.

STONE SAT AT ELAINE’S with Dino, gulping bourbon.

“What’s the matter?” Dino asked.

“What’s the matter?” Stone made a moue. “Well, let’s see: I’ve been assigned by Eggers to save a fair damsel from the clutches of an evil fortune plunderer, as a result of which I’ve become embroiled in an NYPD undercover drug operation; I’ve been shanghaied back into the department, reporting to Brian Doyle, of all people; I’ve been fucking his undercover detective and her girlfriend at the same time, all the while trying to protect Carrie Cox from her evil ex-husband while fucking her; Tiffany Baldwin has reared her beautiful but addled head again and wants me to fuck her, and she’s going to try to shanghai me into working on her undercover operation to bust Sig Larsen. Let’s see, did I leave out anything?”

“Well, mostly, it sounds as if you’re fucking every woman in sight. What else is new?”

“Two undercover operations.”

“They don’t sound all that daunting.”

“They’re plenty daunting, believe me; multiple opportunities to get one or more of these women killed along with myself.”

“Wear armor.”

“Brian Doyle has thoughtfully provided that along with an ear bug that’s hell to get out once it’s in. Did I mention that?”

“I don’t remember,” Dino said. “Have another drink.” He waved at a waiter.

“You talked me into it,” Stone said, draining his glass and setting it aside to make room for another, which arrived with lightning speed. “It’s hot in here,” he said to the waiter. “Please make it cooler.” He patted his forehead with his napkin. “It’s always too hot in here.”

“It’s the bourbon,” Dino said, “and all this talk about sex.”

“I used to enjoy sex,” Stone said disconsolately.

“Don’t you still?”

“There are too many demands being made on me.”

“Most guys would be very happy to have those demands made on them.”

“Maybe I’ll just go up to the Maine house for a while,” Stone said. “Nobody would think of looking for me there this time of year.”

“That’s because you’d freeze your ass off this time of year,” Dino pointed out. “You wouldn’t enjoy it; you don’t like extremes of temperature.”

“It seems a small price to pay for a little peace.”

Eggers came through the front door and headed for their table.

Stone looked up. “Oh, shit.”

Eggers hung up his coat and sat down. “Evening, gentlemen.”

“Evening,” Dino said.

Stone just stared into his drink.

“What’s wrong with him?” Eggers asked Dino.

“He feels put upon,” Dino replied.

“Put upon?”

“That’s it, put upon.”

“I suppose I’m the putter-upon?”

“One of several, I believe,” Dino said.

Stone took a gulp of his Knob Creek.

“Has he been drinking like that all evening?” Eggers asked.

“No,” Dino replied, “just for the last half hour, but the night is young.”

“You didn’t return my phone call, Stone,” Eggers said.

“What phone call?”

“Don’t you ever get your messages? I sent you an e-mail, too.”

“I forgot to look at my e-mail.”

“What’s wrong with you, boy?”

“Too much sex from too many women,” Dino offered.

“Good God!” Eggers said. “You haven’t been fucking our client’s daughter, have you?”

“No!” Stone said. “I haven’t laid a hand on her.”

“She’s the exception to the rule,” Dino said.

“Because I don’t know how I would explain that to Philip Parsons,” Eggers said.

“Since it’s not happening, you won’t have to explain it,” Stone said, looking up from his glass.

“Well, it’s a relief to hear that you make an exception now and then. Or is Hildy the first?”

“Hildy is not the first,” Stone said emphatically. “I have a normal sex life. Normally.”

Dino burst out laughing, and so did Eggers.

“Are you people here just to torment me?” Stone asked. “Can’t you see I’m in pain?”

“Oh?” Eggers said. “Where does it hurt?”

Dino started laughing again.

“I withdraw the question,” Eggers said. “Can we have some menus?” he said to a passing waiter. “You’ll feel better, Stone, when you get some food into your stomach to keep the bourbon company.”

“I’m not hungry,” Stone said.

“We’re going to have to force-feed him,” Dino said, trying not to laugh.

“Well,” Eggers said, “I didn’t come here to put any pressure on you.”

“Thank you, Bill,” Stone said gratefully.

“Now what the hell is going on with Philip’s daughter and that so-called artist?”

“Gee, thanks for not putting any pressure on me,” Stone said.

“Come on, give me the lowdown.”

“An undercover cop has made a buy from Sharpe, and it’s on tape,” Stone said.

“So he’s in jail?”

“No, not yet.”

“Why the hell not?”

“They want him to do it again, so it’ll be a bigger bust. If he does it twice, maybe he’ll get a longer stretch.”

“How much did he sell the cop?”

“Half a kilo of coke and a pound of grass.”

“Shit, that’ll get him at least ten years, no parole.”

“The legislature repealed the Rockefeller laws, haven’t you heard?”

“Now that you mention it,” Eggers said. “What would he get now?”

“Who knows? There’s a lot of money at stake; somebody might get to a judge.”