Stuart Woods: Family Jewels

D’Orio took Carlton through his list of questions, then turned to Ferris. “You got anything, Chief?”

The chief handed D’Orio a sheet of paper, and D’Orio handed it to Carlton. “Do you recognize that photograph?”

“I do. She was with a guest of mine named Harvey Biggers. Apparently they stayed overnight, but as I said, I left for London before anybody was up.”

“You have an address for Mr. Biggers?”

“It’s on the guest list I gave you.”

“Right. I think we’ll want to have a word with Mr. Biggers.”

“Was there any drug use at your party?” the chief asked.

“Not to my knowledge. I would have asked anyone using drugs to leave, but I don’t know what they did in the bathrooms and guest rooms.”

“Did you use any drugs yourself?”

“No, the only nonprescription drug I use is alcohol, and that lightly.”

“Were you drunk that evening?”

“I don’t get drunk.”

“Were any of your guests drunk?”

“It was a New Year’s Eve party, I imagine so. Some of them didn’t want to drive and stayed here, but I didn’t count heads. I went to bed around one AM, and the party was dying by then.”

“Did you hear from Mr. Biggers at any time after the party?”

“No, but then I’ve been out of the country.”

“Does your cell phone work out of the country?”

“Yes, but very few people have that number, and Harvey isn’t one of them. I use a second cell phone for business, and only my staff have that number.”

“Are you planning to leave town anytime soon, Mr. Carlton?”

“Yes, I’m leaving tomorrow for Los Angeles. I have a film to finish.”

“Can you postpone your departure for a few days?” the chief asked.

Stone spoke for the first time. “Chief, Mr. Carlton is on a deadline to complete his film.”

“We’re opening on three thousand screens in six weeks,” Carlton said, “and we haven’t finished editing yet. We also have music and dubbing to do, and I may have to reshoot a scene or two. It’s very tight.”

“Mr. Carlton will make himself available to speak to you anytime you wish,” Stone said. “He wants only to cooperate, within the constraints of his work.”

“There’ll be an opening at Radio City Music Hall,” Carlton said, “for six thousand of my closest friends. I’ll send you some tickets, if you like.”

Both policemen nodded. “The wife would like that,” the chief said.

The cops shook hands and left.

“The tickets were a nice touch,” Stone said. “Cops never get invited anywhere.”

“I figured,” Carlton said. He handed Stone a card. “Send me your bill.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Stone said, getting to his feet.

He handed Carlton his card.

“I’ll send you some opening tickets, too, and better seats than the cops. And you’re invited to the opening-night party at the Rainbow Room after the screening.”

“Sounds good,” Stone said. “If you should hear from Harvey Biggers, will you let me know?”

“You want his address?”

“I have it,” Stone said. They shook hands, and Stone walked next door and surrendered himself to the tender mercies of Carrie Fiske, for one more night.

After they had made love, and just before Stone fell asleep, Carrie whispered in his ear, “I have an early appointment in the city tomorrow, so I’ll be leaving here at four AM. Rupert will give you breakfast.”

“Hmmmf,” Stone replied, then drifted off.

Stone eased into consciousness at a little after ten o’clock. He was unaccustomed to sleeping that late, but at least, he thought, he’d miss the rush-hour traffic into Manhattan. He showered, shaved, dressed, and packed his bag, then carried it downstairs with him.

Rupert was ready for him and served a big breakfast, which he wolfed down. He’d skip lunch to make up for it. While he was on coffee, Rupert took his luggage out to the car, and he heard the trunk lid slam. Rupert came back shortly. “Everything’s in your car,” he said, “including a small gift from Ms. Fiske.”

“Then I’ll be on my way,” Stone said.

“I’ll be on my way, too,” Rupert replied. “I’ve been given a week off.” The two walked down to the front of the house together, and Rupert drove away. Stone followed until he lost the man at an intersection.

Stone lazily followed the GPS instructions to the Long Island Expressway, and as he entered the highway, someone kissed him on his right ear. He looked in the rearview mirror and found two large black eyes looking back at him.

“Bob, what the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, but he didn’t get an answer. Bob hopped into the seat beside him and sat down. There was an envelope tied to his collar with Stone’s name on it. He pulled into a rest stop and read it.

My Dear Stone,

You were the perfect guest, and the perfect lay, too. Thank you for a memorable time. I hope you’ll come back soon and even before that. Call me in the city.

It’s clear to me that you and Bob were made for each other. You’re the first person he’s ever shown much of an interest in, including me. His food, his vet records, and registration are all in his bag in your trunk, and you’ll be glad to know that the documents making him legal to visit Britain are there, too. He’s had all the right shots, etc. You’ll find him easy to deal with. I’m leaving town for a couple of weeks this midday. If, when I get back, you and Bob turn out to have been incompatible, I’ll take him off your hands, but I don’t see that happening. Oh, and his meal schedule and some plastic bags are in his bag, too.

Kisses,

“Well, Bob,” Stone said to the dog, “it looks as if you and I are bunking together for a couple of weeks.”

Bob’s tail beat affirmatively against the leather seat.

He made good time to the house and pulled into the garage. He got out his and Bob’s luggage, put his on the elevator and took Bob’s with him to his office. Joan heard him close the outer door and came in to greet him.

“Well, who’s this?” she cried, and knelt to greet the dog.

“This is Bob, and he’s going to be spending a couple of weeks with us.” He handed her the bag. “Here’s his luggage, and there are all sorts of goodies in there. As I recall he has lunch around this time, and there’s food in there, too.”

Joan took the bag and came back with two bowls and set them on the floor next to Stone’s desk. “There you go, Bob. How about you, boss? Lunch?”

“I had an enormous breakfast, so I’ll skip that.”

“A good weekend?”

“Very good, and I got some new business.” He handed her Carrie’s will and gave her instructions on what to do with it. “A man called Nicky Chalmers will be calling to set up an appointment.”

“He called this morning. Shall I get him back for you?”

“Sure. I also picked up a movie director called James Carlton, but I think that was a one-shot meeting.” He sat down while Joan made the call.

“Nicky on one,” she said.

Stone picked up the phone. “Good afternoon, Nicky.”

“And to you, Stone.”

“I just got back a moment ago, and somewhat to my surprise, Bob came with me. He’s staying here while Carrie is out of town.”

“We were all astonished at how Bob took to you. He’s ordinarily pretty diffident, except at mealtime.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“Probably so. Can we get together tomorrow? I’d like to bring my business manager with me. His name is Duncan Beard.”

“Shall I ask Bill Eggers to join us?”

“Sure, that would be nice, I haven’t seen him in years.”

“How about lunch here, then? Twelve-thirty? I’ll round up Bill, if he’s available.”