D.C. Dead

59

Stone set down the airplane lightly after flying the ILS 19 approach into Teterboro Airport, and was given permission to taxi to Jet Aviation. He was directed to a parking place a few yards from the terminal, and he opened the luggage compartment so that a lineman could unload their luggage onto a cart.

Stone checked the oil in both engines, then opened the rear luggage compartment, disconnected the battery, and handed another lineman the engine plugs and pitot tube covers, to be installed. They followed their luggage into the terminal, then out the front door, where Stone’s secretary, Joan, was waiting in Stone’s car.

Traffic was light going into the city, and they dropped Dino off at his apartment building, then headed for Turtle Bay, and Stone’s house.

Dino let himself into his apartment and took his bags into the bedroom, where he unpacked and put everything away, then he went into his study. There was a large stack of mail, mostly bills and junk, on his desk, and he sat down and began sorting and opening it.

Then he noticed that the light on his answering machine was blinking, and he pushed the button to get his messages.

“Hello, Dino,” a familiar female voice said. “I’ve been thinking about you, and I couldn’t resist calling.”

“Jesus,” Dino muttered to himself, then checked the caller ID. “Number Blocked,” it read.

“I wanted you to know that I’m all right,” she continued. “I had feared something like this might happen, so I made some preparations in advance. I’m in a new place, now, with a new life. Eventually, though, I might get to New York. If I do, would you like to hear from me? Think about that, and I’ll call again sometime. In the meantime, I’ll think about you in bed, and that little thing you do so nicely. Bye-bye.”

Dino hung up and thought for a moment, then he called Stone’s office number.

“Woodman and Weld,” Joan said.

“Joan, it’s Dino. Let me speak to him.”

“Hang, Dino.” She put him on hold.

“Hey, Dino,” Stone said. “Miss me already?”

“Oh, terribly,” Dino said.

“Dinner at Elaine’s, eight-thirty?”

“You’re on, but I’ve got news. Guess who left a message on my answering machine?”