Quick & Dirty

8

They had their second drink at the table, and everybody ordered steaks. Stone picked a nice wine from the list.

“Dino,” he said, “Morgan has a bone to pick with you.”

“Oh?” Dino responded.

“I do, I’m afraid,” Morgan said. “You see, while I was having a pedicure this afternoon I saw a man with a sledgehammer break the windshield of my car.”

“There’s a lot of that going around, I’m afraid. What kind of car do you drive?”

“A Bentley Mulsanne,” she replied.

“Don’t ask her why,” Stone said.

Morgan laughed. “He’s right. Now, I telephoned the police, and eventually a uniformed officer in a patrol car turned up.”

“It was a busy afternoon,” Dino said.

“I told him how it happened, how I had to run outside barefoot through broken glass. He didn’t seem to think the incident was worth investigating. He just took a report.”

“Taking a report is investigating,” Dino said. “The perpetrator had gone, so his job was to report the incident, then interview any witnesses, who was you. He also filed his report and should have given you a copy.”

“He did.”

“You can use that to get your insurance company to pay for the replacement of your windshield.”

“That’s not as easy as it sounds,” Morgan replied. “The car is at the dealership, where they have had to order a replacement from England. You see, there were a limited number in stock, and these incidents have used them up.”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do to hurry that process.”

“Don’t these incidents constitute something of a crime wave?” Morgan asked. “And shouldn’t you pursue the, ah, perpetrators as criminals?”

“It is a crime wave of a very small nature,” Dino said. “However, we are most assuredly pursuing the perpetrators. We very nearly caught yours this afternoon, as did Stone, who was armed, but the man disappeared, probably into a waiting vehicle.”

“You pursued him?” Morgan asked Stone.

“Yes. I was armed with an umbrella.”

“My hero,” she said, patting him on the thigh.

It was the first time she had touched Stone, except to shake his hand, and it gave him a little electric thrill.

“My office will be in touch the minute this has been resolved,” Dino assured her. “Perhaps you’ll be able to attend the trial.”

“I’d prefer to attend the hanging,” Morgan said.

“Heh, heh,” Dino replied.

Mercifully for Dino, their steaks arrived, and for a few minutes there was more chewing than talking.

“I understand your wife is some sort of security guard,” Morgan said when she could.

Dino choked on his steak.

Stone jumped in quickly. “Vivian Bacchetti is executive vice president and chief of operations for Strategic Services, the second-largest security company on the planet.”

“Forgive me,” Morgan said to Dino.

Dino managed to swallow his steak. “That’s quite all right. Is there anything else your police department can do for you today, Mrs. Tillman?” he asked.

“Thank you, no, that will be all, until you capture the perpetrator, at which time I would very much like to have ten minutes alone with him. I’ll bring my own sledgehammer.”

“I’ll try to remember that, Mrs. Tillman.”

“Then please remember that it’s Morgan or Mo,” she said. “We mustn’t stand on formality.”

Stone ordered another bottle of wine, because he thought Dino might need it.

After dinner Fred drove them uptown. “Would you like to come up for a nightcap?” Morgan asked.

“Certainly,” Stone replied. As they got out of the car, Stone said to Fred, “If I’m not back in half an hour, go home, I’ll get a cab.”

She was silent on the elevator ride, but she was looking very carefully at him. The elevator door opened and she shed her coat, went to the bar, and picked up two brandy glasses. “What would you like?” she asked.

“Brandy,” Stone replied.

She poured two and led him to the sofa. Before sitting down, she removed her red jacket, revealing a black blouse cut low in the back.

Stone observed that only one large button secured it.

She sat down close by his side and facing him. “In recounting my history,” she said, taking a gulp of her brandy, “did I mention that I have not had sex since my husband died?”

“No,” Stone replied. “How can I help?”

She reached behind her and undid the button securing her top, lifted it over her head and tossed it away, revealing uncaged breasts that Stone could only think were perfect. “Anything you like,” she replied, leaning over and kissing him.

Then she stood up, took him by the hand, and led him upstairs to a bedroom, which was baronial in proportions.

While Stone shed his clothes, she carefully turned down the bed and plumped the pillows. Finally, she lay on her back, and there was nothing between them but air.

“Come here,” she said, holding out a hand.

“Yes, ma’am,” Stone replied, climbing aboard.

Twice during the night she woke him from a sound sleep for an encore performance. Stone wasn’t sure he was up to the second one, but she persuaded him that he was.

The next time he woke it was because of a ringing telephone, which she answered. “Yes, Lila?” She covered the phone and poked Stone in the ribs. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Two eggs, scrambled soft in the English style, bacon, English muffin, orange juice, and strong black coffee.”

She repeated his order into the phone, then pulled back the sheet and inspected Stone’s body closely. “Once more unto the breach, dear friend, once more!”

“God for Morgan, England, and Saint George!” Stone responded. They had just enough time before breakfast arrived.

Riding home in a cab, Stone thought Morgan had come along just in time to save him from a life of celibacy.