Black Dog

Fifty-Eight

Joan switched off the alarm with her remote and pressed the eighth-floor button. “Could I talk you into having a drink?” she asked Stone. “A stakeout makes me thirsty.”

“Done,” Stone said. “A stakeout makes everybody thirsty.”

She went into the study, to the bar, and poured them both a Knob Creek. “Joan,” he said, “when we were driving away on Sixty-Sixth Street, do you remember a man coming out of the garage and walking up the street?”

“Oddly enough, I do. At first, I thought he was Eddie, but he wasn’t.”

“Same here,” Stone said. “I know him, though. I just can’t remember where from. Maybe he was dressed differently than when I saw him before.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“It will come to me in a minute,” he said.

Joan sat down at the desk and began opening drawers. “I haven’t been through this thoroughly since I moved in.”

“What’s in it?” Stone asked.

“Just the usual crap you’d expect to find in desk drawers,” she said. “Hey, wait a minute, there’s a shelf or something that isn’t quite closed, but I can’t budge it. Give me a hand, will you?”

Stone struggled out of his comfortable seat and walked around to her side of the desk. “It looks like a stenographer’s shelf, but there’s no knob on it.” He ran his fingers along the underside of the desktop. “Hang on, there’s a button.” He pressed it and the shelf sprang open, as if spring-loaded.

“Well, look at that,” Joan said, pointing at the array of weapons.

“And one is missing,” Stone said. “From the indentation, it could have held a snub-nosed .38.”

“That’s what our murderer used, isn’t it?”

“And what Mac, your dead guy, was carrying.”

“Gotta be Eddie,” Joan said.

“Bryce something,” Stone said.

“What?”

“Bryce Newcomb.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“That’s the name of the guy we saw. Dino and I encountered him at Clarke’s. An old boyfriend of Sandy’s.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“It’s the name I couldn’t remember before. He was the guy leaving the garage.”

“So what?” Joan asked. “Tell me that, please.”

“He was belligerent. It happened a second time, but Dino called somebody and got him and some companions braced.”

“ ‘Braced’? What’s that?”

“Put up against a wall and searched. We managed to leave unmolested.”

“You don’t want to talk about this gun drawer anymore?” She pushed, but nothing happened.

“Press the hidden button again.”

Joan bent over and looked along the desktop. “Here it is,” she said. “And here’s something else.” She reached into the bottom level of the out tray and fished out an envelope. They both read it.

“Put it on the desk,” Stone said, “and don’t touch it again.”

“But it says ‘Last Will & Testament,’ ” Joan replied, reaching for it.

Stone slapped her hand. “We need two pairs of latex gloves,” he said.

“Sorry, I never carry latex gloves.”

“Look in your laundry room and kitchen,” Stone said, “and round up two or three members of the staff. We need witnesses.”

Joan got up and went to the door that led to Eddie Sr.’s dressing room and the laundry and tried to open it. Locked. She started for the kitchen, to enter the laundry from there, then there was a loud click. She went back to the door and tried it again. This time it opened. She returned to Stone. “Give me back my .45,” she said. “Somebody’s in Eddie Sr.’s dressing room.

“It’s in my overcoat pocket, on the back seat of my car.”

Joan found the button on the desktop again and opened the shelf containing the firearms. She picked up the officer’s .45 and a magazine, shoved in the magazine, then racked the slide and switched on the safety. “Come on,” she said.

Stone took his pistol from its shoulder holster and followed her to the door.

Joan stepped back. “You first,” she said.

“Gee, thanks.” Stone turned the knob. The door opened, and he stepped back. He entered the room the way he had entered rooms when Dino was backing him up. It was empty. He walked into the laundry, then into the kitchen. “Clear!” he shouted.

Joan came into the room. “It wasn’t clear a minute ago,” she said. “That door was definitely locked, and I definitely heard it unlock.”

“Well, he’s gone now.”

“Eddie Jr.,” she said.

“Probably. How do you call the servants together?”

She took out her remote and pressed a button. “That’s all hands on deck,” she said.

First Geoffrey and then a maid entered the kitchen. “Yes, miss?” Geoffrey said.

“We need two pairs of latex gloves,” she said.

Geoffrey went to a drawer, opened it, and produced two pairs of latex gloves. “We use them when dusting the crystal,” he said.

Stone put on a pair and handed Joan the other. “Okay, everybody,” he said. “Come look at something in the study.” He led them to the desk, where the envelope still lay. He and Joan put away their weapons. “Now,” Stone said. “We found this in the out tray on the desk a couple of minutes ago. Joan picked it up, so it will have her fingerprints on it. Note that the writing on the envelope says ‘Last Will & Testament.’ Have either of you ever seen this before?”

They both shook their heads. “Do you recognize the handwriting?” Stone asked.

“It’s in block capitals,” Joan said.

“All right,” Stone said. “We’re going to open the envelope and read the contents, and you two will be witnesses that we found it sealed.”

Everyone nodded.

Stone picked up a letter opener from the desktop and slit the envelope without breaking the seal. He removed the single sheet of paper and unfolded it on the desktop.

“I recognize the handwriting,” Geoffrey said. “It’s Mr. Edwin Sr.’s.”

“I’m going to read it aloud,” Stone said.