Stuart Woods: Fast and Loose

“What a good idea,” Stone said. “We’d be glad to help. Why don’t I get you together with our managing partner, Bill Eggers, as soon as the stock buyout is resolved, and we’ll see how to proceed.”

“Wonderful,” Paul said. They all stood and shook hands and went their separate ways. In the outside hallway, Stone found the mahogany elevator door and pressed the button.

“Yes?” Marisa’s voice said on the intercom.

“It’s Stone.”

The elevator door opened, and Stone got on. Upstairs, the door opened into a vestibule, where Marisa was waiting. “Good meeting!” she said. “Perhaps Scandinavians are not so demonstrative, but I could tell that Papa was thrilled, and so were the boys.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

“Come in and let me get you a drink.” She led him into a large living room, paneled in a light wood and hung with many pictures, with marvelous city views to the south. She went to a bar. “What would you like?”

“Knob Creek bourbon, if you have it.”

She looked. “I’m sorry, no. I’ll have it next time. May I interest you in an Akvavit?” she asked.

“Wonderful idea.”

She opened a freezer and came out with a bottle frozen in a block of ice, found two small glasses, and poured for them.

“Skoal,” she said. They raised their glasses and tossed back the icy liquid.

“What a beautiful finish,” Stone said, tasting the afterglow.

“It’s a special Akvavit that we have sent over,” she said, pouring them another.

Stone felt the warmth spreading up from his belly.

“Where do you live?” she asked.

“In Turtle Bay Gardens,” he replied.

“Oh, good,” she said. “Within crawling distance.” They tossed back another.

“I think I will hold at this altitude for a while,” Stone said.

“Look, I know you’ve booked a table, but downstairs we have a very fine chef. Why don’t I have a smorgasbord sent up?”

“What a good idea.” While she was calling down, he phoned the restaurant and canceled.

She came back and nestled beside him on the sofa. “You know,” she said, “I should ask our crew to run down yachts more often.”

“I’m quite happy to have undergone the experience, given its results.”

“A good business move?”

“An even better personal one.”

She smiled and poured them another Akvavit. Stone thought that, from here in, he should sip and not chugalug.

—

Dinner arrived in due course, and the waiter placed the large tray on the dining table, set it with china and silverware, and left.

They took their seats, and Stone surveyed the array of smoked fishes, sliced meats, hot dishes, breads, and other comestibles. Marisa opened a chilled bottle of Bâtard-Montrachet and poured them glasses.

“You have good taste in wines,” Stone said, sipping his approvingly.

“Papa is the wine collector,” she said. “I steal from his cellar.”

“Well stolen — this is one of my favorites.”

“Now,” she said, joining him, “I want to hear all about you. Google did not produce sufficient results.”

“The short version — born, Greenwich Village, attended public schools, NYU, and NYU law school. Became infatuated with police work and joined the force, ending up as a longtime homicide detective. Dino, whom you have met, was my partner. Took a bullet in the knee, and the NYPD took the opportunity to unload me. An old law-school buddy, who was with Woodman & Weld, advised me to take a cram course, take the bar, and come to work for them. I did so.”

“Ever married?”

“Yes, she died not long afterward, murdered by a former suitor.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Children?”

“One son, Peter, now a film director in Los Angeles. One Labrador retriever, Bob. Your turn.”

“Mine is more boring. Born just down the street, attended Spence, summered in Sweden with my mother — they were divorced when I was ten. Columbia, master’s in biology, and Harvard Medical School. Did my internship and residency in internal medicine at New York Hospital, right over there, and since then I’ve never strayed far from this building.”

“I hope you’re getting out more these days.”

“Every chance I get.”

“We must contrive some things to do with your spare time.”

She pushed back from the table. “Perhaps you’re aware of the Swedish attitude toward sex?”

“I’ve heard rumors,” Stone replied.

“They are all true,” she said, taking his hand. “Come with me.”

And he did.

Stone awoke alone in a large bed in a darkened room. “Oh, you’re awake,” Marisa said from across the room, raising a blind partway to admit a stream of bright sunlight. “Breakfast in half an hour.” She slipped off her robe, giving him a large, Swedish dose of the full-frontal view. “We have time to do it again.”

He raised his arms, and she came into them. Half an hour later he heard the doorbell.

“Breakfast,” she said, grabbing her robe, and headed for the front door. “Join me.”

Stone found a robe for himself draped over a chair, slipped into it, and went into the living/dining room. Another smorgasbord, this one with eggs, cheese, smoked salmon, and toasted muffins. They dug in.

“You are an excellent lover,” she said, “gentle, kind, but assertive and willing to experiment.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever been rated that way before,” he said.

“You have been, you just weren’t told. And what about me?”

“Enthusiastic, affectionate, skillful, and welcoming,” he replied. “Highest marks. Oh, and I give the Swedish attitude toward sex equally high marks.”

She laughed. “When will I see you again?”

“Is this evening too soon? I’m having dinner with Dino and Viv. Will you join us?”

“Of course. I’ll be working a little late — may I meet you at the restaurant?”

“Eight o’clock at Patroon — 160 East Forty-sixth Street.”

“Agreed. How late will we be?”

“Bring a toothbrush,” he replied, “and a change of socks.”

Stone was back at his desk in time to receive a phone call from Ed Rawls.

“Good morning, Ed.”

“Good morning. You left too soon — the Maine weather is glorious. It’s getting to be autumn.”

Stone groaned. “And I’m stuck here, doing business.”

“It’s business I called about — yours, not mine. I’ve heard that Erik Macher is planning to increase his offer for the Carlsson Clinic.”

“You astonish me, Ed. How do you do it?”

“Intelligence is my chosen craft. I’ll give you a hint. There are Agency alumni at St. Clair other than Macher.”

“I should have guessed. Did you hear a number mentioned?”

“An increase of twenty-five percent,” Rawls said.

“That’s good to know. How about when?”

“As soon as his earlier offer expires.”

“So he’ll wait to see how many bites he gets.”

“It would make him look too eager to do it now. I should think he’s likely to pick up quite a few shares,” Ed said, “though maybe not enough for a majority.”

“So he’ll up the ante to corral some more.”

“Macher didn’t even know about the offer until after St. Clair’s death, but I’m told he’s very caught up in it now. He wants the clinic badly, I’m not sure why.”

“Well,” Stone said, “it’s probably his first deal since taking control.”

“He has several left over from St. Clair, but this is the biggest one. He badly wants to see the headline in the Wall Street Journal. ”

“I’ll see what I can do about getting him a headline,” Stone said, “though perhaps not the one he’d like.”