Foul Play

Nine

Stone and Holly were the first to arrive, since Holly wanted to avoid making an entrance. They were quickly supplied with alcoholic beverages and had already begun to consume them when Shepherd Troutman was escorted into the living room by the rent-a-butler. He took Holly’s offered hand. “You look exactly like what’s-her-name,” he said, hanging on to the hand.

Viv helped. “That’s because she is what’s-her-name,” she said, freeing the hand.

“Call me Holly,” she said. Then to Viv: “Get this man a drink, before he faints.”

“I was just thinking of doing that,” Shep said to Holly.

“Fainting?”

“Drinking. There seems to be a lot of it going on around here.” He turned to Viv. “I don’t think we’ve met, so I’m just going to take a wild leap: you’re Mrs. Bacchetti.”

“Not at my own dinner parties. Viv will do nicely.”

“And I’m Shep.”

“I guessed.”

There was a stir around the front door. “Here comes your date,” Viv said to Shep. “Try and look impressed.”

“That’s easy,” Shep said, eyeing Brooke Alley, clearly thinking she was a knockout in that strapless dress. His eye was drawn to where it was supposed to be.

“That’s impressed enough,” Viv whispered, then introduced them.

Brooke was even more astonished to meet Holly than Shep had been.

Viv did a little sheepherding, and Shep and Brooke found themselves by a window, talking to each other.

“What do you do, Shep?” Brooke asked.

“Absolutely nothing,” Shep replied.

“I like a man who knows how to do nothing stylishly.”

“Style is all I’ve got.”

“I don’t believe that for a moment,” Brooke said, looking him up and down, while he stole another glance at her décolletage.

“You make that dress look wonderful,” Shep said.

“See what I mean? Viv, is this what it’s like in the free world?”

“No, just at my house. I’ve groomed him carefully. Excuse me for a moment, there’s a clot of security people over there, and I have to go redistribute them.” She shooed them into the kitchen, then grabbed the detail chief of the Secret Service. “I want you to herd these people into the breakfast room over there, where there is seating for eight, and only let them make rounds one at a time, and around the edges of the room. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the man said, deferentially.

Viv thought he was clearly angling for a job at Strategic Services when he retired.

“Give me a call when you’re a couple of weeks from retirement,” she said, checking his name on the list.

Dino sidled up to Stone. “Talk to me. Nobody else will.”

“Look at Shep,” Stone said, watching him move back to Holly’s side. “He doesn’t have to be so fucking charming.”

“Presidents bring that out in some men.”

“And that friend of Viv’s is a knockout. Why didn’t she introduce her to me?”

“You’re not the odd man tonight, nor the new guy in town,” Dino explained. “Viv knows what she’s doing. See how she’s emptied the room of security people, except for one, over there behind the potted plant?”

When they were called to dinner, Stone was annoyed to find that Shep’s place card, not his own, was between his putative date’s and the president’s.

As the first course was beginning to be served, Stone looked across the table at Dino, whose left index finger had gone to his ear, indicating a listening device there.

Dino looked at Stone, made a motion toward the front door with his head, and left the table.

Stone followed Dino to the elevator, where he was holding the door open.

“Are you armed?” Dino asked Stone.

“No.”

Dino lifted a leg and unholstered a small semiautomatic. “It’s only a .380,” Dino said, “so if you have to use it, go for the head shot.”

“What the hell is going on?” Stone asked.

“Some sort of problem with your guy Fred,” Dino said. “He seems to want to shoot people.”

“Then they must need shooting,” Stone replied.

The elevator disgorged them into the lobby, where a doorman discretely pointed out the front door.

Stone followed Dino out onto the sidewalk, where Fred was wedged between two much larger men, holding his arms.

“You’d better call those guys off, before Fred hurts them,” Stone said.

“Stand down,” Dino said, and the two men freed Fred and stepped back.

One of them held up a Glock. “We got this off him,” the man said.

“Give it back to him,” Dino said quietly. “Tell us about it, Fred.”

“I’m sorry, Commissioner,” Fred said, tucking away his firearm. “The building was approached by two men from the direction of Park Avenue, where they had got out of a black car. Both were carrying, and I judged them to be up to no good.”

“Where are these two men now?” Dino asked his men.

They looked embarrassed. “When they saw the Glock they got back into their car,” he said, “and left in a hurry.”

“That was my intended use of the pistol,” Fred said. “I didn’t expect to have to shoot anybody, but I was ready to do so if necessary.”

“Good job, Fred,” Dino said. He looked around. “Anything further?” he asked. No one spoke. Dino nudged Stone toward the front door. “Our dinner is getting cold,” he said.

Once back in the elevator, Dino held out a hand. “My piece,” he said.

Stone gave him back the .380.

“If Fred ever leaves your employ,” Dino said, tucking the pistol back where it belonged, “I’d like to hear about it.”

“You’re not first in line,” Stone said.

“Yeah? Who else?”

“Viv asked a long time ago.”

“I’ve got to watch that woman every minute.”

“Don’t even try,” Stone said. “She’s too far ahead of you.”