New York Dead

Chapter 29

On Saturday night, Cary turned up not in just a black car but in a limousine. Stone was waiting at the curb, and he slid into the backseat laughing.

He gave the driver the address and turned to Cary. “Are you sure the network can afford this?”

She raised the black window that separated them from the driver and slid close to him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been putting in so much overtime, they owe me.” She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him.

“There goes the lipstick,” he said.

“Fuck the lipstick.” She kissed him again and ran her hand up his thigh to the crotch. “Fuck me, too.”

“In a limousine?”

“Why not? The driver can’t see anything.”

“We’ll be at Barker’s building in three minutes.”

“That’s just time enough,” she said, unzipping his fly.

Before Stone could move he was in her mouth.

She was very good, and he was very fast; by the time the chauffeur opened the door, Stone had already adjusted his clothing, and Cary had reapplied her lipstick.

“You’re amazing,” Stone whispered as they entered the building. He was trying to bring his breathing back to normal.

“It was the least I could do,” she said, “after I abandoned you in what must have been a very bad week.”

“I think being alone helped me make the adjustment better,” he said, “but I like the way you make up for slights.” The doorman took their names and directed them to the elevator.

When the door had closed, she moved close to him. “I wonder how long we have before the elevator reaches Barker’s floor?” she said.

Stone leaned down and kissed the top of a breast, accessible above the low-cut dress. “Not long enough for what I have in mind,” he said. “By the way, you look spectacular. It’s a wonderful dress.”

She laughed. “You like cleavage, don’t you?”

“The sight of breasts is good for morale.”

“You look pretty sharp yourself. The suit suits you.”

“I had good advice.”

The elevator door opened. A uniformed maid answered the door and took their coats.

“Well, good evening,” Hi Barker said, sweeping into the hall from the living room.

Stone introduced Cary.

“You’re a fine judge of women, Stone,” Barker said, kissing Cary ’s hand.

“Why, thank you, sir,” Cary responded. She turned to Stone. “You didn’t prepare me for this man.”

“How could I?”

Barker ushered them into the living room, where two other couples and a woman waited. “Meet everybody,” he said. “This is Frank and Marian Woodman.”

Stone shook their hands. “Mr. Woodman and I have met,” he said.

“Oh?” Barker said. “You’re better acquainted around town than I thought.”

“All in the line of duty,” Stone said, “just the way I met you.”

“That’s right,” Woodman said. “Sasha Nijinsky was my client, and Detective Barrington came to see me. Or, I should say, Mr. Barrington. My congratulations; I hear that sort of medical retirement is every police officer’s dream.”

“Most of the cops I know would rather serve the thirty years healthy,” Stone said.

“Oh, the penny just dropped,” Mrs. Woodman said. She was a small, handsome woman some years her husband’s junior. “You’re the detective in the papers.”

“I’m afraid so,” Stone said.

“You’ll have to interrogate him later, Marian,” Barker said, pulling Stone and Cary away. “He has other guests to meet.” He took them to the other couple. “This is Abbott Wheeling and his wife, India. Stone Barrington and Cary Hilliard.”

Wheeling was an elderly man, a former editor of the New York Times, now a columnist on the Op-Ed page. He shook hands warmly, and, before Stone had a chance to speak to him, the other woman in the room approached.

“I’m Edith Bonner,” she said, shaking hands with both of them. She was tall, on the heavy side, but quite pretty and elegantly dressed.

“Edith is my date for the evening,” Barker explained.

A waiter approached and took their drink orders. Bonner excused herself, and Cary pulled Stone to the window.

“It’s quite a view, isn’t it?” she said, pointing at the United Nations building.

“I hadn’t seen it at night,” Stone said.

“Do you know who Edith Bonner is?”

“No, the name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“She’s a sort of society psychic,” Cary explained. “She’s a wealthy widow who does readings of her friends – strictly amateur – but she has quite a reputation.”

The Wheelings joined them at the window and admired the view. “Your leaving the force at this particular time has caused quite a bit of speculation,” he said to Stone.

“Well, I was scheduled for the physical some time ago,” Stone replied. “It was unfortunate that I was in the middle of an investigation at the time.”

“I don’t mean to interview you, Mr. Barrington…”

“Please call me Stone.”

“Thank you, and you must call me Ab; everyone does. As I was saying, I don’t mean to interview, and this is certainly off the record, but do you think this Morgan woman had anything to do with the Nijinsky business?”

Stone nodded toward Bonner, who was returning to the room. “Maybe we should ask Mrs. Bonner,” he said. “I expect she has just as good an idea about it as anyone assigned to the case.”

Wheeling smiled. “You should have been a diplomat, Stone, or somebody’s press secretary. That was as neat an answer as I’ve ever heard, and I couldn’t quote you if I wanted to.”

The maid entered the room. “Dinner is served,” she said. People finished their drinks and filed into the dining room.

Stone was seated between India Wheeling and Edith Bonner and across from Frank Woodman.

“Stone, what are you going to do with yourself, now that you’re a free man?” Woodman asked in the middle of the main course.

“I’m returning to the law,” Stone said. “It seems to be the only thing I know anything about.” He didn’t mention that he would soon be cramming for the bar exam.

“Your career as a detective makes for an interesting background for a certain kind of lawyer,” Woodman said. “I believe Bill Eggers may have an idea for you.”

“I had a message from him this week,” Stone replied.

“When he’s back from Los Angeles, I hope you’ll listen to what he has to say.”

“Surely. At this point, I’m certainly open to suggestions.”

Edith Bonner, who had been quiet up until now, spoke up. “Mr. Barrington…”

“Stone.”

“Stone. Of course I’m aware of what you’ve been investigating recently. I read the papers like everybody else.”

“Why, Edith,” Woodman broke in, “I didn’t know you had to read the papers; I thought you had a direct line to the central source of all knowledge.”

Bonner smiled. “You’ll have to excuse Frank; he’s a very bright man, but his curiosity extends only to the literal – what he can see and hear and touch.”

“That’s right, Edith,” Woodman said.

“What Frank doesn’t understand is that some of us see and hear and touch things that are not quite so literal. Do you see what I mean, Stone?”

“I believe I do, Edith, but I have to tell you that my experience as a police officer has made me not unlike Frank. I tend to put my faith in what I can see and hear, and I don’t have your gifts with the less than literal.”

“I believe I might be able to tell you something about what happened to Sasha Nijinsky,” Bonner said.

All conversation ceased at the table.

“Would this be something material, or would it be more… ephemeral?” Stone asked, trying to keep the tone light.

Bonner smiled. “I believe you might think it ephemeral,” she said, “but I assure you it is material to me. I would not speak if I didn’t feel quite certain about what I want to tell you.”

“I’m all ears,” Stone said.

“I feel strongly that two persons are responsible for what happened to Sasha Nijinsky,” Bonner said.

“Well, since two things happened to Sasha – her fall and her disappearance – it seems quite possible that two people could be involved.”

“I was referring to Sasha’s fall from her terrace,” Bonner said, “and only one of these persons was present when she… fell.”

“That’s very interesting,” Stone said. It’s not very interesting at all, he thought. So much for ESP.

“I warn you, Stone,” Barker said, “Edith does not make such statements lightly. You should take her seriously.”

“Unfortunately,” Stone replied, “I’m no longer in a position to do so, and I have no reason to believe that anyone assigned to the case would be interested in hearing from me about any theory whatsoever. Edith, if you feel strongly about this, perhaps you should contact Lieutenant Leary, who is commander of detectives at the 19th Precinct.”

Bonner shook her head. “No,” she said, “he wouldn’t listen to me. I’ve done what I can, now; I’ll have no more to say on the subject.” She returned to her dinner and her silence.

Soon the party moved back to the living room for coffee and brandy. Stone chatted at some length with Frank Woodman and found that he liked the man.

Later, when people made a move to leave, Bonner appeared at Stone’s elbow. “There’s something I didn’t want to mention at the table,” she said.

“Yes?”

“Sasha Nijinsky is not finished with you.”

“Well, I’m afraid the NYPD has finished with me.”

“But not Sasha. There’s a connection between the two of you that you don’t seem to know about.”

“A connection?”

“A… well, a spiritual connection.”

“But I never knew her.”

“Do you think it was a coincidence that you were there when she fell from that balcony?”

“It couldn’t be anything else.”

“It was no coincidence. You and Sasha are bound together, and you won’t be released until she is found and you know what happened to her.”

“Edith, I’m going to do everything I can to put Sasha out of my mind permanently.”

Bonner smiled. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to do that.” Then her expression turned serious. “There’s something else,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“I feel that you are, or will be, in some sort of jeopardy, resulting from your connection with Sasha.”

“Jeopardy? How?”

“I don’t know. I only know that you are at risk, and, if you are not very careful indeed, this thing with Sasha could destroy you.”

“Some would say it already has,” Stone said. “At least with regard to my career as a police officer.” He was near to confiding in her, now, and it surprised him.

“I mean destroy you entirely – mortally. In fact, I have the very strong feeling that your chances of surviving this crisis are poor – certainly, you will not come through without help, and you may not get it.”

Stone pushed away the chill that threatened to run through him. “Edith,” he managed to say, “I appreciate your concern for me, but please don’t worry too much. It’s my intention to stay just as far away as I can from the Nijinsky case or anything to do with it.”

“You won’t be able to do that,” Bonner said. She looked away from him. “I’m sorry.”