Black Dog

Twenty-Eight

Stone’s car delivered them to the house at six-forty. The butler admitted them and showed them to the elevator, pressing the button for them.

They emerged into the living room that Stone had visited before, but a few flashy things had been removed, and there were large arrangements of fresh flowers scattered here and there.

Joan greeted them and was introduced to Bridget. Stone had never seen Joan dressed to kill, and he was impressed. A butler took their drinks order. “You look glorious,” Stone said, “and so does the house.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Joan replied, obviously excited. The butler whispered something to her. “Oh, some special guests have arrived,” she said. “Excuse me.”

“Shall we circulate?” Bridget asked.

“Let’s wait a minute and see who the special guests are.”

“Are you likely to know them?”

“I know most of the people in this room, but let’s wait and see.” They took a position to one side of the elevator.

Shortly, the doors opened and five people stepped out. Stone knew two of them. “Mr. Mayor and Mrs. Shawn,” Stone said. Of the other three people, two were detectives Stone knew and nodded to; the third was Edwin Charles Jr.

“This young fellow,” the mayor said, indicating Eddie Jr., “was at the mansion for a drink, and we asked him to join us. I expect you know him.”

“All too well,” Stone said, not bothering to shake the outstretched hand. “In fact, his late stepmother, who was my client, took out a TRO, barring him from all of her homes.”

“She’s dead,” Eddie protested.

“Nevertheless, we will respect her wishes.” Stone gestured to the cops, and one of them stepped back onto the elevator, bumping Eddie ahead of him.

“I’m very sorry, Stone,” the mayor said. “We had no idea.”

“Not to worry, Mayor,” Stone said. “He’s a well-known party crasher.”

Joan joined her guests. She whispered to Stone, “Did I see what’s-his-name?”

“Here and gone,” Stone said, then introduced Bridget to the mayor.

Others approached the mayor, so Stone and Bridget eased away.

“Ah, so we’re manhandling my client into the elevator, now?”

“It was a brief encounter,” Stone said. “He’s barred from the premises.”

“By whom? The late Mr. and Mrs. Charles?”

“By their executor,” Stone replied, as a server delivered fresh drinks. “Do you want to see the TRO?”

“Yes, please.”

“It’ll have to wait until tomorrow. It’s in my desk drawer. Besides, the police will already have shot him by now.”

“For what cause?”

“Nothing special. He just brings that out in people.”

A silver bell tinkled, and the crowd began looking for their place cards at one of the many tables awaiting them. Stone located theirs at the table with Joan and the mayor and his wife. Stone was seated between Mrs. Shawn and Joan.

“Thank you so much for ejecting that horrible little man,” the mayor’s wife said.

“You’re very welcome,” Stone said. “And I’ve never heard him described more aptly.”

“He actually pushed his way into our car. The mayor is far too lenient with people like that. He kept telling us that you are his lawyer.”

“You may rest assured,” Stone said, “that that was a bald-faced lie.” She turned to speak to someone else.

Joan nudged him. “I’ve remonstrated with the butler. He was cowed by the presence of the mayor. What did you do with Eddie?”

“He’s being buried on a construction site around the corner. Concrete will be poured.”

“I’m so relieved,” Joan said.

After dinner there was dancing, to the music of Peter Duchin, and Bridget caught up with Stone.

“Hi there, where were you seated?”

“In plain view of you, and I read lips.”

“I’m sorry, but lip-reading is not admissible evidence in a court of law, unless the witness is a deaf-mute.”

“You made that up!”

“Are you absolutely sure? I refer you to the criminal code.”

“I’ll bet there’s a copy in the library here,” she said.

“The previous owner would have had little use for it.”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you!”

“Would you hire an attorney who didn’t?”