Kisser

47

STONE DUG OUT Sig Larsen’s card and called the number.

“Larsen Enterprises,” a British-accented woman’s voice said.

“Sig Larsen, please. It’s Stone Barrington calling.”

“One moment, please, Mr. Barrington. I’ll see if I can find him.” This was apparently designed to create the impression of a large office, Stone thought.

“Just one moment, please, Mr. Barrington. I’m getting him out of the conference room.”

Yeah, I’ll bet, Stone thought.

“Stone? It’s Sig. How are you?”

“Very well, Sig, and you?”

“Just great. What did you think of my prospectus?”

“Well, I had a look at it, and I thought it was a little skimpy on information.” Best not to overenthuse, Stone thought.

“Stone, I hope you appreciate the need for absolute secrecy in this matter; I’m the only person outside the company itself who is privy to this new product, and I’ve given my word not to disclose the kind of information I think you’re talking about. Now if either you or Mitzi isn’t comfortable with that level of confidentiality, I’ll understand if you don’t want to participate.”

“Mitzi is more comfortable with it than I am,” Stone said, “and she’s the boss. She should be in touch with you today about her investment.”

“Great, Stone. I’ll look forward to hearing from her. Thanks for your help.” He hung up.

Stone called Mitzi’s cell. “Okay, I’ve baited the hook with Larsen.”

“Terrific.”

“How big a bad check are you going to give him?”

“Ten million dollars.”

“Whoa! Way too much. Your bogus net worth is only $39,000,000, remember? You’ll scare him off.”

“How much, then?”

“Five million, tops. What bank will it be on?”

“My Charleston bank, the real one. I’ve already talked with my guy there, and he understands and will not pay the check.”

“Suppose Larsen has his bank call and put a hold on the funds?”

“I thought of that. My guy will tell them it’s against bank policy; they’ll have to present the actual check.”

“That could work. When are you going to give Larsen the check?”

“Tomorrow morning; we’re meeting for coffee at the Carlyle Hotel at ten a.m.”

“Will Tom be able to see you?”

“Yes. I’d like it if you could be there, too.”

“Participating or just watching?”

“Participating.”

“I made a point of sounding as if I have reservations about the investment, and I’ll continue that pose at the meeting. The enthusiasm will have to come from you.”

“I’ll be enthusiastic,” Mitzi said.

“All right, I’ll meet you there at ten.”

“See you then. Dinner tomorrow night?”

“Just the two of us?”

“If you like.”

“I think that’s best for now.”

“I’ll try to make up for Rita’s absence.” She hung up.

STONE MET DINO for lunch at P. J. Clarke’s, and they both ordered a rare bacon cheeseburger and fries.

“I hear you and the commissioner are getting chummy,” Dino said.

“Where the hell did you hear that?”

“You can’t keep anything from me.”

“No, seriously, how did you know about it?”

“His driver is a buddy of my driver. What did the old man say to you?”

“He asked me why I never made detective first grade.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“The truth, what else?”

“You told him it was politics?”

“I did.”

“That sounds really lame, you know.”

“The commissioner didn’t think so. He said that he’d read my file and that he could read between the lines.”

“Why the hell would he read your file?”

“He said he read it when Brian asked to have me put on active status.”

“Why the hell should the commissioner be interested in you, Stone?”

“I guess he just likes the cut of my jib,” Stone said with a smirk.

“Horseshit. He was a captain downtown when all that went down.”

“He said he heard about it at the time,” Stone replied. “You’re beginning to sound jealous of my new relationship with the commissioner, Dino. You want me to put in a good word for you?”

“Yeah, sure,” Dino said. “Don’t you dare mention my name; I don’t want to be associated with you in the commissioner’s eyes.”

“And why the hell not? What’s wrong with being associated with me?”

“Because you’re a well-known pain in the ass in the department and a self-important fuckup.”

“I am not,” Stone said. “I have the reputation of a cop who did his job until he was wounded in the line of duty and given a medical retirement.”

“If that’s the way you want to think about it, go ahead. Still being in the department, I have a different viewpoint.”

“Who the hell said that about me, anyway?”

“Guys who served with us in the squad.”

“That crowd? Who gives a shit what they think? They’re a bunch of bums. Anyway, most of them are tending bar in Queens by now. I guess the commissioner bases his opinions on better information than squad room gossip.”

“You know, there are a lot of guys serving time in uncomfortable precincts who once thought the commissioner had a high opinion of them. He’s like that; you can’t read him.”

“I’m not reading him,” Stone said. “I was just telling you what he said. If you think he’s a liar, fine. Anyway, I’m not subject to a transfer to an uncomfortable place. This active crap is just a paperwork thing to make Brian Doyle think he’s my boss.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so,” Stone said. Then he looked across the room and saw Hildy Parsons being seated at a table alone.

“Excuse me,” Stone said. “Somebody I’ve got to talk to.” He got up and headed toward Hildy.