Contraband

13

Stone awoke early the next morning to find Max in her dressing room, packing. “Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” Max replied.

“Going somewhere?”

“I have to go back to Key West,” she said.

Stone searched for an argument to get her to stay. “There’s no shopping in Key West,” he said. “You said so yourself.”

“I’m all shopped out,” Max replied. “I’ve taken advantage of your generosity, and I’ve got more stuff than I can wear in a year.”

“Sex,” Stone offered.

“I’m all fucked out,” she said. “That’ll hold me until you come south again.”

“I don’t have any plans to do that,” Stone replied.

“Don’t worry, you’ll start thinking about it with the first frost.” She closed the suitcase.

“Got time for breakfast?”

“Sure. My plane’s not until one o’clock.”

Stone called downstairs, ordered breakfast, then got back into bed to wait.

Max joined him. “You remember what I said about being all fucked out?” she said.

“Yes.”

“I lied.” She pulled him on top of her. They finished with the sound of the dumbwaiter arriving with breakfast.

Stone gave her a final kiss and tucked her into the rear seat of the Bentley.

“Ready?” Fred asked, starting the car and opening the garage door.

“Not entirely,” Max replied, “but let’s do it anyway.”

Fred backed the car out onto the street, the door closing behind them.

Stone walked back to his office, and Joan came in.

“Have a busy morning?” she asked, archly.

“Don’t ask,” Stone replied.

“Coffee?”

Stone consulted his watch. “Lunch.”

Bob’s tail thumped the floor.

“Yes, you, too,” Stone said, scratching his ears.

The phone rang, and Joan answered it. “Dino on line one.”

Stone picked up. “Hey.”

“You sound — I don’t know... regretful.”

“Max has gone back to Key West.”

“She couldn’t stand you anymore?”

“No, she was standing me pretty well, but she can’t stand letting her case go unsolved. You remember what that’s like, don’t you, Dino?”

“Nah. I never had a case I couldn’t walk away from at the drop of a hat.”

“Horseshit,” Stone said with an equine snort.

“Well, you have to admit it’s a pretty interesting case: missing pilot, missing cargo, and now, missing airplane.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“And an attempted murder in a hospital thrown in for seasoning.”

“All right, it’s an interesting case.”

“Then why aren’t you pursuing it?”

“Well, I’m not in the police business anymore and, to tell the truth, I’m all worn out.”

“She’s like that, is she?”

“Her batteries are fully charged at all times.”

“And your batteries...”

“Need replacing,” Stone said. “With the latest lithium upgrade.”

“Maybe you just need a day in bed.”

“I need a week in bed.”

“Then you’re not interested in dinner tonight?”

“I’ll sleep until then. Where and what time?”

“P. J. Clarke’s, at seven.”

“See you then.” Stone hung up as lunch arrived on a tray — except for Bob’s, which arrived in a bowl.

After lunch Stone went back to his bedroom and set his alarm for six, and sat straight up when it went off. He shaved, showered, dressed, and hied himself uptown in a cab.

Dino was late, so Stone wedged himself up to the crowded bar and ordered a Knob Creek.

A woman seated next to him said, “While you’re at it, could you order me a Talisker on the rocks? I can’t seem to get the bartender’s attention.”

Stone looked her up and down: she appeared to be tall, even for somebody who was sitting down, dark-haired, beautiful, and fashionably dressed. “He must be gay,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Stone ordered her drink and it arrived with his. They clinked glasses. “It’s on me,” he said as they sipped.

“That’s a very nice jacket,” she said. “Tell me where and under what circumstances you bought it.” She had an accent that was vaguely British.

“It’s a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

“I’ve got a whiskey to get through,” she said. “And I like hearing stories about the origins of clothes, so shoot.”

“I had a girlfriend once who left me for a movie star — married him, in fact.”

“Did she give it to you?”

“No, the movie star did, in a manner of speaking. I was in L.A. at the time of his funeral and I didn’t have a suitable mourning suit with me, so I tried on one of his. It fit perfectly. When I got back to New York, a shipment of several large boxes arrived. His widow had sent me all his suits and jackets. That was many years ago, and I’m still wearing them.”

“Who was the movie star?”

“Vance Calder.”

“Wow, he was something!”

“I suppose he was. He had a fifty-year career.”

“What is your name?” she asked.

“I’m Stone Barrington.” He held out a hand.

She shook it. “I’m Roberta Calder,” she said.

Stone’s eyebrows went up. “Any relation?”

“My father, Robert, was Vance’s younger brother.”

“Small world,” Stone said.

“And getting smaller all the time. Didn’t you marry Vance’s widow?”

“I did.”

“And she was later murdered?”

“She was.”

“I had never expected to meet you.”

“Same here,” Stone said.

Dino arrived and waved at the bartender, who immediately brought him his usual. Stone introduced Dino to Roberta.

“Call me Robbie,” she said.

“I’m just plain Dino.”

The headwaiter from the back room came and told them their table was ready.

“Would you like to join us?” Stone asked.

“Thank you, yes,” she replied, and they all went to the back room together.

On the way, Dino whispered, “Max has been gone since, what? Noon? I’m surprised it took you so long.”

“Dino, it’s not like that.”

“Don’t worry, it will be.”