Стюарт Вудс - Desperate Measures

“Smart girl,” Dino said. “I’ll check with Viv. If I don’t call you back, we’ll see you at six-thirty.”

“Done,” Stone said, then hung up and buzzed Joan.

“Yes, boss?”

“You must have something for me to do,” he said.

“Do you do windows?” she asked.

“I do not.”

“Then there’s no hope for you. Go watch those political programs you love so much.”

Stone hung up, yawned, and turned on the TV.

Faith was punctual. He met her at the door and walked her through the living room to his study. “Another couple is joining us shortly,” he said. “Let’s get a head start on them. What would you like?”

“A bourbon on the rocks,” she said. “Knob Creek, if you have it.”

“I have it in abundance,” Stone said, pouring them each one. They sat down before the fire.

“This is a very nice room,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“And the living room was very nice, too, as is the house and the neighborhood.”

“On behalf of the neighbors, I thank you.”

“How do you live so well?”

“Well, I got the house cheap: I inherited it from a great-aunt. My father, who was a cabinetmaker and furniture designer, made all the paneling, shelves, and did the woodwork.”

“I see,” she said, “sort of. Did you get the Bentley cheap?”

“I got a pretty good deal on it.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a partner in a law firm, Woodman & Weld.”

“Never heard of it.”

“There’s no reason you should have, unless you’re suing or being sued or want an estate managed or a will written.”

“None of the above,” she said.

“How long have you been flying?” Stone asked.

“Since I was sixteen,” she said. “I went to high school in the town where I was born — Delano, Georgia — then graduated from the aviation university, Embry Riddle, in Florida, with a diploma and an ATP license. I flew packages and freight, was first officer on a Lear, then got in a lot of single-pilot jet time in Citations. I flew for an airline, right seat for eight or nine years, then I joined Trans-Continent and made captain as soon as they needed one.”

“Total time?”

“A little over fifteen thousand hours. You sound like a pilot.”

“I am. I fly a CJ3-Plus.”

“Nice. I flew one for a charter service for two years. Total time?”

“About four thousand hours, half of it in Citations. Lately, I’ve been flying a borrowed Citation Latitude.”

“That’s a great airplane. My charter service ordered three of them and sent me to Flight Safety for a type rating. Then, the day I got my rating, the charter service went bust. They reneged on their order for the three Latitudes, and I had to buy my own ticket home.”

“That’s a sad story, but at least you got the type rating.”

The doorbell rang, but Stone kept his seat. “They’ll let themselves in,” he said. “Their names are Dino and Viv Bacchetti.” He spelled the name for her.

The Bacchettis spilled into the room and demanded liquor. Stone introduced them to Faith, then did the pouring of Dino’s scotch and Viv’s martini.

“So, how did you two meet?” Viv asked.

“She body-blocked me at the heliport today,” Stone said.

“He was walking backward and nearly knocked me down,” Faith explained.

“Why were you both at the heliport?” Dino asked.

“Stone was seeing a friend off, and I had hitched a ride into the city from JFK on a chopper,” Faith said. “The pilot’s a friend.”

“Sounds like fate at work,” Viv said.

They finished their drinks, then left the house and got into Dino’s car. “Patroon,” he said.

“What’s Patroon?” Faith asked.

“A very good restaurant,” Stone replied.

“Dino,” she asked, “why does your car have a blue light on top?”

“It’s a police car,” Dino replied.

“In a manner of speaking,” Stone said. “Not every police officer has this ride, but Dino, for reasons I’ve never understood, is the police commissioner for the City of New York.”

“I’ve never felt so safe,” Faith said.

They arrived at the restaurant, were greeted and seated by the owner, Ken Aretsky, and ordered drinks. When they had been delivered, Dino took a deep breath. “Faith, this is not a good time to feel safe.”

“What are you talking about, Dino?” Stone asked.

“While you were swanning around London, we had two homicides on the Upper East Side.”

“Only two?” Stone asked. “Why is that remarkable?”

“Because both were small, blond, and beautiful,” Dino said. “Like you, Faith.”

Stone and Dino had worked homicide together, so Stone thought about this the way a cop would. “Anything else in common?”

“The manner of their deaths,” Dino said.

“Which was?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Stone frowned. Dino never didn’t want to talk about anything at all. Stone took a breath to ask another question, but Dino gave him the slightest shake of his head, and he didn’t ask it.

“Come on, Dino.” This was Faith talking, and she looked as though she was going to get an answer.

“I haven’t had enough to drink to tell you about that,” Dino replied.

Faith was going to persist, but Stone said, “Drop it. He’s serious.”

“Well, I have a license to carry,” Faith said, “so I will.”

“A New York City license?” Dino asked.

“New York, Florida, and California,” Faith replied. “It’s an option for airline pilots. I have to shoot twice a month, requalify once a month, and pay for my own gun and ammunition, but it makes me feel better. I fly charters, and sometimes the groups get rowdy. I’ve had them banging on the cockpit door.”

“Have you ever had to draw your weapon?” Dino asked.

“Only once. I didn’t point it at anybody, and there wasn’t one in the chamber. Still, its presence had a calming effect on the two-hundred-and-fifty-pound guy who wanted to fly the airplane.”

“Good for you,” Dino said. “That shows judgment and restraint. Would you like to be a police officer? I’ll give you a good assignment right out of the Academy.”

“Do you have an assignment available that involves flying an airplane?”

“How about a helicopter?”

Faith shook her head. “They scare me shitless.”

“Me, too,” Dino said, “and that’s just riding in them.”

“Well, this is a first,” Stone said. “Dino has never offered my date a job.”

“I’m serious,” Dino said.

“I know,” Stone replied.

“Thanks, Dino,” Faith said. “I’m flattered, but I like wings on my aircraft, and I enjoy travel.”

“You should hire her, Stone,” Viv said. “You’ve been flying the Latitude with pro pilots.”

“Only because it’s illegal for me to fly it alone. Anyway, it’s not my airplane; it belongs to your boss.” Viv worked for Mike Freeman, at Strategic Services, the world’s second-largest security company. Viv was also a retired NYPD detective. Stone had recently swapped airplanes with Mike — on a temporary basis — when he had wanted to fly to London, and he would have to give back the Latitude soon.

Dinner came, and they enjoyed it.

Dino’s car dropped them off after dinner. “Nightcap?” Stone asked Faith.

“Sure.”

They went into the study.

“You haven’t seen the master suite, have you?”

“No,” she replied, “but I have the distinct feeling I’m about to.”

He poured them each a drink. “Right this way,” he said.

They took the elevator to the top floor, and Stone showed Faith into the master suite. Shortly after that, he gave her a tour of the bed.