Distant Thunder

40

Stone got to Clarke’s a little early and found the bar less packed than usual. He took a seat, intending to save the next one for Dino, then he turned to the bartender, to receive his bourbon, which had already been poured. In that moment, the seat next to him was filled, and the occupant turned out to be more attractive than Dino.

She was, in fact, beautiful — a honey blonde with her hair around her shoulders, in a lovely dress that revealed cleavage, and there was much of it to reveal. “May I have a Macallan 18 on the rocks, please?” she said to the bartender, then turned to regard Stone.

“Put that on my bill,” Stone said to the bartender.

She allowed herself a small smile. “You are very kind,” she said, and there was a hint of an accent.

“I detect an accent,” Stone said.

“You are very quick. I am Polish. Anna,” she said, offering a hand.

Stone took it and found it strong and soft. “Stone,” he replied.

“Like a rock?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“You have a good hand,” she said, squeezing.

“As do you,” Stone said.

She gave him that little smile again, which caused a thrill to run down his leg. “I’m meeting a friend,” he said. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“How kind you are. I’d love to.”

“What brings you to New York?”

“Pleasure,” she said, “along with a little business.”

“What business are you in?”

“Vodka,” she said. “My father makes Poland’s finest. He sent me here to meet with someone who would like to be our North American distributor. I am to judge his worthiness and report back.”

“How soon are you reporting back?”

“Not too soon. I still have pleasure to occupy me.”

Dino had suddenly appeared and plugged into the conversation. Introductions were made. “That would explain why you are drinking Scotch, instead of vodka.”

She made a face. “I drink vodka — Papa’s vodka — all the time,” she said. “Scotch is a nice change. Don’t tell Papa.”

“I won’t tell Papa,” Dino said.

“You can go home now, Dino,” Stone said. “We won’t be needing you anymore.”

“Fat chance,” Dino said.

“What does this mean?” Anna asked.

“No,” Dino said. “I won’t go home.”

Anna gave him a big smile. “You are sweet, Dino.”

They took possession of their table.

“What is good here?” Anna asked.

“Beef,” Dino said.

They all ordered steaks, and Stone ordered an expensive cabernet, then they settled in.

“Have you met this distributor yet?” Stone asked.

“Yes, but he is old. At least forty.”

Stone and Dino exchanged a glance. “Ripe,” Dino said. “Like a good wine.”

“If you say so,” she said, trying hers. “Oh, I see what you mean.”

Stone felt relieved.

She leaned over the table, exposing more cleavage. Stone and Dino were transfixed.

“What is Papa’s vodka called?” Dino asked.

“Polska. They will not have it in this restaurant until I choose a distributor.”

“We’ll hold our breath,” Dino said.

Their steaks came, and they ate — Anna, greedily, as if there were a shortage of beef in Poland. Stone ordered a second bottle of wine.

“If you will excuse me,” Anna said, “I must visit what you call, I believe, ‘the little girls’ room.’ ”

Stone and Dino stood, so the table could be moved, then they both watched her walk away, an uplifting experience.

“I’ve got a big disappointment for you, pal,” Dino said.

“What’s that?”

“She’s not Polish.”

“And why do I care?”

“You should care that she’s lying. She’s Russian.”

“So?”

“So what is the nationality of the people who are trying to kill you?”

Stone started to speak, and his jaw dropped.

“I’ll say it for you,” Dino said. “Russian.”

“How can you tell?”

“Something about her tits.”

“I heartily approve of those.”

“Who could not, but it’s her handbag that worries me.”

“Dino, why would I give a shit about her handbag?”

“Because she’s packing,” Dino replied.

“Dino...”

“And she’s going to come out of the ‘little girls’ room,’ walk up to this table, shoot you in the head, and walk out.”

“You’re just trying to get her all to yourself. I’ll tell Viv on you.”

“Viv would have made her first — and would probably already have shot her. Why haven’t you gotten out of here?”

“What about you?”

“I’ll stay here and stall her for a minute, while you run like a deer.”

“This is insane,” Stone said.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Dino looked up. “Uh-oh. Too late.” He reached under the table for something.

Anna was striding out of the ladies’ room and into the dining room. She sat down but did not put her handbag on the table.

“Listen for a moment, Anna,” Dino said, “and tell me, what do you hear?” He cocked the snub-nosed .38 he used for a backup.

Anna’s face froze.

“Place your handbag and both hands on the table,” Dino said.

She thought about it for a millisecond, then complied.

Dino produced a pair of handcuffs. “Cuff her,” he said to Stone.

“You’re not kidding?” Stone said.

“I kid you not.”

Stone reached over and cuffed her.

Dino opened her handbag and dumped its contents on the table. The contents included a Beretta .25 semiautomatic pistol and a spare magazine. There was a short silencer screwed into the pistol barrel.

“Anna,” Dino said, “it is a felony to possess a handgun in this city without a carry license. It is punishable by a prison term and it is another felony to possess a silencer. You are under arrest.” He showed her his badge, then handed his .38 to Stone, and took out his cell phone. “Shoot her if she moves, and she probably will.”

Stone leveled the weapon at Anna. “Then I will certainly shoot her.”

Dino pressed a button and spoke into the phone. “Come in here with a weapon drawn and ready to make an arrest,” he said.

While they waited, Dino returned her belongings to her handbag, sans weaponry, and tucked it under her arm. “You can call the number they give you when you arrive at the precinct, and they’ll send a lawyer, but you should expect to remain in jail until your trial, a few months, since you are a threat to the public safety and a flight risk.”

Anna, who had not spoken since returning from the little girls’ room, spoke. “I wish a lawyer,” she said.

Dino’s driver came in and took charge of the prisoner.

“We’ll be along in a few minutes,” Dino said to him. “Lock her down, but first, have a female detective conduct a full cavity search, and check her hair for a hatpin. Let everybody know that she is very dangerous.”

Stone spoke up. “Can I have thirty minutes alone in a cell with her, cameras off?”

“If you do that,” Dino replied, “she’ll try to kill you, and she knows how.” He shoved the check across the table. “Dinner is on you,” he said.