Desperate Measures

23

They were on cognac when the doorbell rang. Stone picked up the phone. “Yes?”

“It’s Dino.”

Stone buzzed him in. “You’re about to meet my closest friend, Dino Bacchetti.”

“Oh, good. Where have I heard that name?”

“He’s the police commissioner of New York City. We were detectives together a long time ago.”

Dino came into the room. “I didn’t know you had a guest,” he said.

Stone introduced him to Cilla.

“I don’t suppose I can force a drink on you,” Stone said.

Dino grabbed a chair. “Just try,” he said, accepting a glass of Johnnie Walker Black Label. “Better days,” he said.

“Cilla was just saying that they don’t get much better than right now. She’s getting divorced tomorrow, from Donald Trask.”

“Ah, yes,” Dino said. “The subject of my visit. And let me be the first to congratulate you, Cilla.”

“You are that,” Cilla replied, “and thank you. What has Donald done this time?”

“It’s good news,” Dino said. “When the New York Athletic Club heard about his weapon, they disarmed him and put the gun in their safe.”

“He has no access to it?” Stone asked.

“Apparently not unless he moves out.”

“Well, that is good news. Fred had a look around the neighborhood but didn’t spot him.”

“I don’t want to throw cold water on good news,” Cilla said, “but I should tell you that Donald is a very persistent person. Once he gets the bit between his teeth, he doesn’t give up until he has what he wants.”

“And is that Stone?” Dino asked.

“He may have been distracted by the news that he’s going to get a very large check tomorrow, when he is divorced from me.”

“That would divert a fellow’s attention,” Dino said. “Might it also cool his ardor?”

“Perhaps. His ardor is always cooled when he thinks he has won, and he probably thinks that about the settlement. What he doesn’t know is, I was prepared to pay double what I’m paying him, just to be shed of him. So, if I ever want to get his goat, I’ll just throw that into the argument.”

“Please don’t do that,” Stone said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll resist the temptation.”

“The City of New York would be grateful for that,” Dino said. “I was afraid we were going to have to arrest him tonight.”

“What for?” Cilla asked.

“That’s the problem. He has a carry license for the gun, so... ”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Stone said. “As I recall, a carry license lists the authorized weapons and their serial numbers, does it not?”

Dino brightened. “You’re right, it does, so unless he had the presence of mind to add his new gun to the list, we’ve got grounds for canceling his license.” Dino picked up his phone and made a call. “It’s Bacchetti; I want you to run the carry license for one Donald Trask and tell me if he’s added a new weapon, a Beretta, to his authorized list in the past few days. I’ll hold.” Dino covered the phone. “He’s checking. What? No Beretta? Thank you.” He hung up. “He hasn’t registered it.”

“Problem is,” Stone said, “he’s not carrying it. It’s in the safe at the Athletic Club.”

“Hoisted on my own petard,” Dino said.

“Well, he won’t carry it into the courthouse tomorrow morning, but after that, he could check out at any time.”

“Jesus, but you’re a lot of trouble,” Dino said.

“Me? What’d I do?”

“Now I’m going to have to put a man on him, so, if he has a bulge under his coat when he leaves the club, we can bust him.”

“How long does he have to register the new weapon?” Stone asked.

“I’m not sure. Three days, maybe.”

“I think I can get him to check out of the Athletic Club,” Cilla said.

“How are you going to do that?” Stone asked.

“I’ll see him in court tomorrow morning, and as soon as we get the decree, I’ll tell him I want him out of the Greenwich house by the weekend. He’ll have to go up there and pack up his stuff, so he’ll check out of the club and sleep in Greenwich, until he leaves the house.”

“So,” Stone said. “He’ll probably check out of the club tomorrow after his court appearance, so Dino’s guys can roust him when he’s on the way to catch his train.”

“That works for me,” Dino said, tossing off his drink. “Okay, I’m going home. We’ll pick up Mr. Trask’s tail when he leaves the courthouse. Which court?”

“Family court, chambers of Judge Watney,” Cilla replied.

“Then we’ll follow him to the Athletic Club and let nature take its course.”

“Cilla,” Stone said, “where is he likely to stay after he leaves the Greenwich house?”

“Normally to the Carlyle, but after our hearing he won’t have access to that anymore. Margot will be getting it ready to show it.”

“So, back to the Athletic Club?”

“Maybe, but there he’ll have the inconvenience of checking his gun. Maybe the Yale Club; he’s a member there.”

“Is there anyone at the Greenwich house you could have call you when he leaves?”

“Yes, the housekeeper, who will be glad to see the back of him.”

“Good. Tell her to ask him for a forwarding address and number when he leaves, then call you.”

“I can do that,” she said. “I’ll be speaking to her in due course.”

Dino said good night and left.

Cilla finished her cognac, then stretched and yawned. “You can take that as a hint,” she said to Stone.

Stone turned out the lights and escorted her upstairs.

He got undressed and into bed, and she went into her dressing room and was there for a half hour. When she came out she was wearing a long negligee.

“Why is it,” he said, “that it takes so long for a woman to take her clothes off?”

She stood by the bed, slipped the straps off her shoulders, and allowed the negligee to fall to the floor. “I guess I’m just going to have to make that up to you,” she said, climbing into bed.

And she did.