Contraband

59

They climbed the steps of Robbie’s townhouse and rang the bell. The door was answered by the woman who had stopped at Stone’s table a few minutes before.

“Watch yourself,” she whispered as she let them in. “I’ll get Ms. Calder for you. Please go into the living room.” She directed them to the door. “She may be a minute. She’s looking at some new fabrics.”

“Thank you,” Stone said.

“Very nice,” Max said, looking around. “Taste, style, the works!”

“Why don’t you display your feminine instincts for me?” Stone asked.

“You want me to unzip your trousers here and now?”

“Later, please. I was referring to your gift of knowing where women hide things.”

“Ah, that gift.”

“Any thoughts?”

“Depends on what we’re looking for.”

“Anything incriminating,” Stone replied.

“Be more specific. It matters.”

“Cash? Guns?”

“Gotcha,” Max said. She slipped out of her shoes and started to walk up and down the living room, starting in a corner and coming down hard with her heels.

“You’re going to attract attention from downstairs,” Stone said, making hand motions for her to be quiet.

“This is the dance that has to be done,” Max said. “If you want results.”

“Please explain this to me.”

“Shut up,” Max said firmly, “and listen.”

“Thank you for that explanation.”

Max continued her march around the living room, then stopped. “We have to move the coffee table,” she said.

Stone looked at the coffee table; it was, perhaps, six by eight feet and was laden with thick art books and fabric samples. “I think we’d need a crane,” he said.

“Oh, come on, we’re strong. We can handle it.”

“I think you’re stronger than I,” Stone said.

Then, as if to stop their arguing, Robbie came into the room. “Good afternoon!” she said. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Hello, Robbie,” Stone said. “This is Max.”

“Well, hello, Max!” she enthused. “I like the sweater dress.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Max replied.

“I’m not old enough for ‘ma’am,’ yet,” Robbie replied.

“Thank you, miss!”

“Better. Put your shoes on. I want to see your legs better.”

Max slipped into her shoes.

“Makes all the difference, doesn’t it?”

“If you say so,” Max replied.

“Tell me what you’re looking for in the way of garments,” Robbie said.

“Dresses, suits, a coat or two.”

“In other words, everything.”

“I’m from out of town, and I need things that are better suited to New York.”

“And where are you from?”

“Key West, Florida.”

“Yes, that would require a different look, wouldn’t it? I take it you didn’t find your cashmere dress there.”

“No, I found this at Bergdorf’s.”

“Do you like cashmere?” Robbie asked.

“I just love it, for New York.”

Robbie dug out a book of fabrics and opened it. “Take a look through these. I’ll be right back.” She left the room.

“Come on, Stone,” Max said. “Grab the other end of the table.”

“Where are we taking it?”

“To the middle of the floor, away from the sofa.”

Stone got up from his comfortable chair and started for the table.

Robbie came back into the room. “See anything you like?” she asked.

“Yes, all of them. Which would you choose to work with?”

Robbie flipped through the book and pointed to a black. “This one.”

“I’m afraid that’s a no go,” Max said. “Stone has a dog who sheds.”

“Oh, you’re staying at Stone’s, are you?” Robbie asked, archly.

“She’s staying at the Lowell,” Stone said quickly, “but she visits me from time to time.”

“I’m sure she does,” Robbie said, looking Max up and down. “How nice for both of you.”

“Both of us?” Max asked, mystified.

“Well, I’d take you both on in a heartbeat,” Robbie said, giving her a warm smile.

Max recovered. “That sounds interesting,” she said, “but first, let’s dress me, before we start undressing.”

“Quite right, my dear,” Robbie said. “I was just going to suggest you strip down for me, so I can see what I’m working with — unadorned.”

“But I hardly know you,” Max replied, batting her eyelashes comically.

Someone knocked, and Robbie went to the door and opened it. The woman who had admitted them stood there. “Mrs. Stevens is here for her fitting,” she said.

“Tell her I’ll be right down,” Robbie replied, then closed the door. “Drat! And just when things were getting interesting,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re interested,” Max replied.

“Will you excuse me for a few minutes?” Robbie asked. “Mrs. Stevens is a very important customer, and I must attend to her.”

“Of course,” Max said. “Take your time.”

“I won’t be shocked if, when I come back, you’re both undressed.” She left the room, closing the door behind her.

“See what I mean?” Stone asked.

“You’re right, she’s a fast worker. Now, come help me with this table.”

They each grabbed an end and tugged. “Hang on,” Max said. “Stand back.” She waved Stone away from the table.

Stone stood back. “What are you doing?”

Max lifted her end of the table and all the books slid off onto the floor. “Now, get your end,” she said.

Stone took hold of the table, and together, they managed to get it a couple of inches off the floor and move it away from the sofa.

“This is a four-inch slab of marble on legs,” he said.

“Now,” Max said. She shucked off her shoes again and began her heel march.

Stone winced, but then the sound she was making changed in pitch.

“Here,” Max said, “right here.” She stepped off the rug and picked up one corner. “Grab hold,” she ordered.

Stone grabbed a corner and folded it back, away from the sofa. There was a mat underneath, and they folded that back, too.

“Oh, look,” Max said. “What have we got here?”

There was a door in the floor, with recessed hand grips. “Let’s get this open,” she said.

Stone took hold, and they lifted the heavy door, which was hinged on one side.

Stone viewed the contents. “Holy shit,” he said.