Dirt

Chapter 27

Stone called Dino after lunch. “Who’s your tech these days?” he asked.

“Don’t say that over the goddamned telephone,” Dino said, sounding tense. “We’ll talk in person; you free for dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Eight-thirty at Elaine’s; I’ll book.”

Dino was a little touchy, Stone thought. The detectives always had a guy around who could do illegal technical work – tapping, bugging – when they couldn’t get the job done any other way.

He worked on cases through the afternoon, having a sandwich at his desk, and just after six, when he was almost done for the day, the phone rang.

“It’s me,” Arrington said.

“Hello there.”

“I understand you’ve been hanging out with Dick Hickock’s girlfriend.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“Have you checked your fax machine lately?”

“Hang on.” Stone went to the closet where the machine was kept and found a single sheet there.

DIRT

Greetings, earthlings! The plot thickens: Gorgeous Tiffany Potts, who has lately been the favorite plaything of Richard Hickock, was seen today tête-à-tête with shyster/shamus Stone Barrington, over martinis at the Oak Bar. Looks as though Dickie may have been inattentive to poor Tiff lately, which is just as well, because his dear wife, Glynnis, is on the warpath, Informed of her husband’s dalliance by us, she is Taking Steps.

Stay tuned for more!

Stone picked up the phone. “It was strictly business,” he said.

“That’s what they all say, but I believe you. Listen, I’ve spent most of the day clearing the decks of my life, and I think I’m ready to curl up with a good detective.”

“I can recommend somebody.”

“Tonight suit you?”

“I’m seeing Dino for dinner at Elaine’s, and Dino always leaves early. Why don’t you join us, and we’ll go on from there.”

“Sounds good. I’ll bring my toothbrush.”

“You do that. We’re meeting at eight-thirty, but I need half an hour with Dino. Nine?”

“Nine it is.” She hung up.

Stone allowed himself a very deep breath.

Dino sat down, and he looked pissed off. “What’s this ‘tech’ shit?”

“I need a tech to…”

“Stone, you don’t talk about that on the phone these days, not when there’s a commission looking into police corruption.”

“Sorry, Dino, I…”

“They’re all over us like flies, you know, even though the Nineteenth is clean as a whistle.”

“As far as you know.”

“I know, pal, believe me.”

“About the tech.”

“What about him?”

“I need a man to go over an apartment, see what he finds.”

“He’s not planting anything?”

“Not a thing; I just want to see what somebody else might have planted.”

“Does he have to break in?”

“I’ve got a key, and the occupant is expecting him.”

“Give me the key and the address. I’ll contact him.”

Stone produced the key and wrote down Tiffany’s name and address. “Tell him to call first and say I sent… Wait a minute. No, tell him just to show up, having already written on a piece of paper that I sent him. No names, in case the place is wired.”

“Okay.”

“What’s it going to cost?”

“Since he’s not planting anything, I’ll make him do it for five hundred.”

“Steep. I haven’t got it on me.”

“I’ll front it; you can pay me back.”

Stone had another idea. “While he’s at it, I’d like him to take a look at my place.”

Dino’s eyebrows went up. “Are we still on the DIRT thing?”

“We are, and their information is just a little too good. Come to think of it, I’d like him to take a look at Amanda Dart’s place, too, but not until he’s been to me first.”

“His name is Bob Cantor; he’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Think you can get me a better rate for the three places?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“What’s new with you?”

“Mary Ann is apartment-hunting on the East Side.”

“Uh-oh.”

“You said it.”

“How is this going to happen?”

“The old man swears it’s going to be straight up. We’re going to rent it from a corporation that owns it.”

“Doesn’t sound straight up to me,” Stone said.

“What? That we rent?”

“Dino, make sure it’s a corporation that already owns rental units, and that the rent is in line with the market.”

“That’s what the old man has in mind. The rent will be more than we pay now, but he’ll lay some cash on Mary Ann, to make up for it.”

“That sounds fairly clean. You’re going to need a checkable story that starts right from the beginning – how you find the agent, how you heard about the agent, a proper lease. It’s got to look like anybody could find this apartment, you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Tell Mary Ann to make sure her daddy understands, too.”

“What, you think the old guy doesn’t know something about hiding ownership?”

“This isn’t like holding a cement company, Dino; if the commission starts looking into this, it’s got to be airtight, and you be sure that neither the agent or the head of the corporation has a name that rhymes with a pasta.”

“Right, right.” Dino looked up and smiled. “Hey, look what’s coming in,” he said.

Stone turned to see Arrington enter the restaurant. “Not bad,” he said offhandedly.

“Not bad? You’re losing it. As it happens, I know this one.” He waved at Arrington, who waved back and started for the table. “Give us a few minutes, then get lost, okay?”

“Sure, Dino, whatever you say.”

Dino was on his feet, taking Arrington’s offered hand. “Long time no see,” he was saying. “This is my friend…”

Arrington let go of Dino’s hand, turned to Stone, and planted a large kiss on his lips. “We’ve met,” she said.

Stone held her chair while Dino stood, dumbfounded. “Sit down, Dino,” he said; then he leaned over and whispered, “Give us a few minutes, then get lost, okay?”

When Dino had left, Arrington pulled out a copy of the new Vanity Fair. “My first piece for them,” she said, opening the magazine. “It’s about the mayor’s wife.”

“That’s great, Arrington,” Stone said. “That has got to be a tough market for a writer to break into.”

“Not if you’re a good enough writer,” she said.

“Can I have this? I’d like to read it later.”

“Later you’re going to be busy,” she said, “but you can have it for tomorrow.”

Stone flipped through the pages of the magazine. “You know any models, by any chance?”

“I have a passing acquaintance with a few,” she replied.

Stone found the cologne ad. “How about this guy? Know him?”

Arrington looked at the ad, then back at Stone. Her face was suddenly expressionless. “Why did you have to do it this way?”

“What?” Stone was baffled.

“Why didn’t you just…” She turned away, and there were angry tears in her eyes.

“Arrington, I don’t understand,” Stone said. “I just wanted to know who this guy is. It’s a business thing.”

She turned back angrily. “You know who it is,” she said.

“I swear to you I don’t have the slightest idea.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“I am not. Arrington, what is going on?”

She pointed at the photograph. “That’s him,” she said.

“Who?”

“Jonathan.”