Family Jewels

5

Biggers had not been gone five minutes when Joan buzzed.

“Carrie Fiske on line one.”

Stone pressed the button. “Hello, Carrie.”

“Hello, Stone.”

“I hope you are well.”

“So far. Tell me, have you heard from my ex-husband?”

“Yes, and from close range.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he was right across my desk.”

“In your office?”

“That’s where my desk is.”

“Good God! Did he hurt you?”

“I don’t think he is in any shape to hurt anybody today — he just got out of the hospital.”

“I saw what Fred did to him. That little man was magnificent. Who knew?”

“I knew — your ex-husband didn’t. He does now, though.”

“What did he want?”

“He wanted me to know that you are trying to kill him.”

“What nonsense! Why would I want to kill him?”

“That’s what I asked him.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said, because you’re mad at him, and you’re mean, especially in bed.”

“Well, God knows, I’m mad at him for creating that scene at the Central Park Boathouse. But mean? And in bed? What did he mean by that?”

“I was afraid to ask.”

“That’s very odd. I don’t think anyone has ever said I was mean in bed.”

“It is certainly odd, and I’m relieved to hear that you don’t have that reputation.”

“I wouldn’t like for a charge like that to get around — it might damage my... social life.”

“No doubt.”

“Can I sue him for defamation?”

“That is inadvisable.”

“But he has defamed me.”

“I don’t doubt that, but in the legal process of suing him...”

“Yes? Go on.”

“Well, do you remember that woman who was known as the Queen of Mean?”

“Leona Helmsley?”

“That’s the one.”

“What does she have to do with it?”

“I fear that, at least in the New York Post, you might well find yourself billed as the Queen of Mean in Bed, thus defeating the purpose of your lawsuit and sticking you with that sobriquet for life, perhaps longer.”

“Longer?”

“It might end up on your tombstone.”

“How?”

“You said you had a will. In it, is the person in charge of your funeral arrangements your husband?”

“Oh, shit.”

“Exactly. I think we need to draw up a new will for you right away, especially since you think he wants to kill you. If he managed to do that, and get away with it, he would be in charge of everything.”

“Why don’t you come out to my house in the Hamptons for the weekend?” she said, abruptly changing the subject.

Stone reflected that he had no plans for the weekend, but still...

“And,” she added before he could speak, “I have some friends coming that you might enjoy. And you could draw up my new will, before Harvey gets a chance to kill me.”

“You make a weekend in the Hamptons sound like an emergency.”

“A dire emergency. Do you know Georgica Pond?”

“I know that it’s a very nice neighborhood. I read the real estate ads in the Sunday Times magazine.”

“Can you find it?”

“Probably not, but the GPS lady in my car can.”

She gave him the address. “Lunch is at one o’clock tomorrow. Be there in time for the world’s best Bloody Mary.”

“I don’t drink before noon.”

“That’s why lunch is at one. And bring a dinner jacket.”

“To the Hamptons? I haven’t spent a lot of time out there, but my impression is that everybody is terribly, terribly casual.”

“Do you own a dinner jacket?”

“I do.”

“Bring it,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

“That’s better.” She hung up.