Foul Play

Seven

Stone was on a phone call when Joan came into his office and held up a note: SHEP. He excused himself from his present call and pressed the button. “Shep?”

“Good afternoon, Stone.”

“Anything wrong?”

Shep laughed. “I guess you’ve become accustomed to talking to me only when terrible things have happened.”

“Of course not. How can I help you?”

“I’m car shopping, and I was impressed with your Bentley. Are you pleased with it?”

“Very much so. If you decide you want one, I’ll put you in touch with someone who can find it fast.”

“I shouldn’t just walk into a dealership?”

“You can certainly do that, but it’s likely that they will have only one or two cars in stock. Then if you don’t like the color or interior of one of those cars, you’ll need to place an order and wait several months for delivery.”

“How should I proceed?”

“First, go to the Bentley website and build yourself the perfect Bentley for you. Then send that description to a friend of mine, Herman Goldsmith, and ask him to find you something like that. He’ll search the country and come up with existing new cars. If you like one of them he’ll get it for you right away, and he’ll usually give you a discount, which is something that’s hard to come by with a dealer.”

“I’ve had a talk with your people at Strategic Services, and they’ve suggested some armor. Yours is armored, isn’t it?”

“Yes, and I bought it directly from them. They have a department that armors vehicles. Or Herman can find you a car, and you can give it to them for armoring.”

“Would you say that armoring is worth doing?”

“Well, it’s only saved my life twice — once in a horrific accident, the other from a man on a motorcycle with a gun.”

“I guess I’ll need to think about that,” Shep said.

Stone gave him Herman’s number, then hung up.

Near the end of the day, Joan buzzed. “Herman Goldsmith on one.”

“Hello, Herman.”

“Hi, Stone. I want to thank you for the customer, Shepherd Troutman.”

“Sure. Did you find him something?”

“A gorgeous Flying Spur. He’ll have it by noon tomorrow. Will his check be good?”

“You have nothing to worry about with Shep.”

“He’s trading in a Mercedes. My guy is looking it over now at the Carlyle.”

“I haven’t seen his car, but I know it belonged to his father. My guess is it doesn’t have a lot of mileage on it.”

“Good. Thank you again.” Herman hung up.

Joan buzzed again. “Dino on two.”

“Hey, Dino.”

“Hey, yourself. Dinner at Patroon, seven o’clock?”

“Done. Is Viv here?” Viv was COO at Strategic Services, and she traveled the world a lot.

“Amazingly, yes. See ya.” He hung up.

Stone slid into a booth with Dino and Viv. “You don’t look jet-lagged,” he said to her.

“I’m always jet-lagged,” she replied. “You get used to it.”

“How’s our friend Shep doing?” Dino asked. “Any beatings or corpses in his life for the past couple of days?”

“It’s as if none of that ever happened,” Stone said. “He’s buying his apartment at the Carlyle, and he bought a Bentley from Herman today. His disposition is sunny.”

“Dino told me about Shep,” Viv said. “Sounds like he should meet a friend of mine.”

“Anybody I know?”

“No, she married into old money twelve years ago, and they lived mostly in the Hamptons. She’s divorcing him.”

“Sounds like something Herbie Fisher could do for her. Does she have a lawyer?”

“She’s just at the point of taking that step. I’ll tell her to call Herb.”

“Is she a free woman, yet?”

“She has been for some time, but she was slow to get to the lawyer stage. I’m sure she’d be interested in meeting Shep, and she’s already dug her gold, so no worries there for him. What’s he like?”

“Good-looking, bright, articulate, well-dressed, in a conservative way. He’s recently cashed out of a large family business.”

“All admirable qualities in a man. Her name is Brooke Alley,” Viv said, writing down her number and giving it to Stone, who pocketed it.

Dino accepted a fresh drink and a menu. “For the life of me I can’t figure out how Shep Troutman got through life before he met Stone.”

“Tell you what,” Viv said. “Why don’t I give a little dinner party soon, and I’ll invite Brooke and Shepherd.”

“Why not?” Stone asked. “You can seat them next to each other.”

Viv pulled out her iPhone and went to her calendar. “How about, let’s see, not tomorrow night, but the night after?”

“I’m free, and I’m almost sure Shep is.” He got out his phone and called Shep.

“Hello, Stone.”

“Hi, there, Shep. Are you free for dinner the day after tomorrow?”

“I certainly am. Where?”

“At Dino’s house.”

“Dress?”

“Hang on.” He covered the phone “How are we dressing, Viv?”

“Black tie,” she said. “Seven o’clock.”

Stone told Shep, then gave him the address. “See you then.”

“One thing, Stone: I’ve got a couple of security people tailing me. One of them will want to be in the apartment.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem. See you then.” Stone hung up.

“And who are you bringing?” Viv asked.

“You mean, besides Shep?”

“He’s not your date, he’s Brooke’s.”

“Oh. I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

Later, Stone had just crawled into bed when his cell phone rang. “Yes?”

“This is the White House operator, Mr. Barrington,” a female voice said. “Will you accept a call from the president?”

“Certainly,” he replied. A moment later, Holly Barker was on the line.

“Good evening,” she purred. “I know you’re well, so I won’t ask. A friend of mine — lovely person — is coming to New York tomorrow. Can you put her up for the night?”

“I don’t do less than two nights,” Stone said. “Viv and Dino are having a dinner party at home the night after. Can your friend make that?”

“It will be arranged. My friend will see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“It’s black tie, and she will be very welcome,” Stone said, but she had already hung up.

Stone called Viv’s cell phone and was sent directly to voice mail.

“It’s Stone. I have a date for your party. Expect a few Secret Service people to be hanging around, in addition to Shep’s body man. See you then!” He hung up and was soon asleep.