Insatiable Appetites

26

Stone, Peter and Hattie, Ben and Tessa, and Dino and Viv gathered in the rear library room of the Writing Room for dinner. It occurred to him that he was the only stag there; he wished Ann could be there, too. It also came to him that, one day, one of these dinners would be their last together. He hoped that would not be for a long time.

They ordered drinks and dinner, and Stone found an excellent Cabernet on the wine list and ordered two bottles.

Then Stone heard a knife rapping on a glass and the table became quiet.

Peter spoke up. “Ben has an announcement to make,” he said. “The floor is yours, partner.”

“Thanks, Peter,” Ben said, keeping his seat. “Peter and I have been having some serious conversations lately, and with his agreement, I’ve made an important decision in my life.”

Stone noticed that Dino seemed to have no idea what was coming.

“Peter and I have made a wonderful team, and we will continue to collaborate. However, Centurion Studios has offered me the job of head of production for the whole studio, and I just can’t resist it. I’ll be moving to an office in the executive building, but I’ll keep my office at our building, too. This is all effective next week.” He stopped and looked around.

It was quiet for a moment, then everybody cheered and clapped. Dino walked over, stood him up, and hugged him. “Now you’re going to be making more money than your old man,” he said, pounding Ben on his back.

“Dad,” Ben said, “I hate to break this to you, but I’ve been making more money than you since I left Yale.”

Everybody laughed, no one harder than Dino.

Dino’s phone vibrated. He picked up his drink, stepped away from the table, and entered into earnest conversation.

“The NYPD never closes,” Viv said.

Dino came back and sat down with his drink. He didn’t say anything.

“Come on, Dino,” Stone said, “let us be the first to hear the news.”

“What news?” Dino asked.

“The news you just got on the phone.”

“Oh, that news.”

“Come on, Dad, give!” Ben said.

“It’s not going to go very well with the osso buco.”

“We’ll live.”

“All right: a couple of hours ago a trawler in Jamaica Bay pulled in the trawl and found, in addition to many examples of marine life, a severed head in a weighted plastic bag. Quite fresh, too.”

“Ugh,” Tessa said, and made a face.

“I warned you, but my friend and my son just had to know.”

“Whose head was it?” Hattie asked.

“The full resources of the NYPD are now directed at answering that question,” Dino replied. “How soon we know will depend on whether the gentleman has a DNA record or dental records on file somewhere.”

“I guess there are no fingerprints,” Ben said drily.

Groans from all present.

Dinner arrived, Stone tasted and poured the wine, and they all dug into dinner.

They had just finished the dessert wine and were on coffee when Dino got another call. As before, he stepped away from the table to answer it. He talked for five minutes or so, then returned and sat down. “I can now answer your question, Hattie,” he said.

“Oh, please. Is it anybody we know?”

“No,” Dino said. “Sorry to disappoint. The head belongs to an Irishman.”

“You can get DNA records from Ireland on such short notice?” Peter asked.

“Yes, but in this case, not from Ireland, but from the Vatican, which keeps those records on all its employees, including the Pope. The Irishman was a priest. His name is Father Frank Donovan, and he was executive assistant to the head of the Vatican Bank, Cardinal Penzi.”

“A priest?” somebody asked.

“A priest and a banker.”

“There’s a history of suicide connected to the Vatican Bank, isn’t there?” Ben asked.

“Somehow, I don’t think this one was a suicide,” Dino replied, and everybody laughed again.

“I thought the Vatican Bank had been cleaned out of executives and was under new management,” Stone said.

“This guy was new management,” Dino replied.

“Well,” Hattie said, “if I may paraphrase Ronald Reagan, where’s the rest of him?”

“Arrangements are being made now to drag the bay, starting at first light tomorrow,” Dino said. “We’ll reassemble him, if we can.”

Somebody changed the subject and the mood lightened again.