21

Stone called Dino.

“Bacchetti.”

“It’s Stone.”

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“I’ve been in Maine and Nantucket, and now I’m in Key West.”

“And why aren’t you answering your phone?”

“I’m only answering a throwaway.” He gave Dino the number.

“Is somebody after you?”

“Everybody, everywhere,” Stone replied. “If you’ll shut up for a couple of minutes, I’ll tell you the whole story.”

“Shoot.”

Stone told him everything.

“So you’ve got a house full of people?”

“I do.”

“What is Ed Rawls doing there?”

“Shooting iguanas. It keeps him from shooting people.”

“Well, that’s a good trade-off. When are you coming back to New York?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Is there any reason why you shouldn’t?”

“The idea is, I’m harder to find here.”

“They’ll find you wherever you are. You’d be safer in New York.”

Stone thought about that. “You may have a point.”

“Come on back. I’ll put a couple of men on your house.”

“That’s a generous offer. Let me talk with Jamie about it.”

“Give me as much notice as you can, and I’ll pull a couple of people off whatever they’re doing and send them to your house.”

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

“Bye.” Dino hung up.

Jamie was on the other line; a moment later she hung up. “They want me to come back to New York,” she said.

“Who?”

“Everybody. The New Yorker wants to take photographs, and my editor wants to talk about trimming the book by a hundred pages. The Times wants me to talk to their lawyers, and I guess we both need to talk to Herbert Fisher. And I have a shopping itch that I can’t scratch in Key West.”

“Is tomorrow soon enough?”

“You betcha.”

Stone called Faith and asked for wheels up at nine, then he called Fred about meeting them at Teterboro. “Done,” he said. “Dino is putting a couple of cops on the house, so we’ll feel more secure.”

“I can’t quarrel with that,” Jamie said.

“Sara’s making dinner for us, and she advises indoors. We’re due for some rain tonight.”

“By the way,” she said, “this is a wonderful house. I love the interior gardens and the koi pond and all that.”

“It’s nicer in winter, when the temperature is more suited to human beings.”

“And it’s less suited to them in New York.”

“Exactly. There’s a lot to be said for a warm place in winter.”

“I’ve got a title for the book,” Jamie said. “Excelsior: The Tommassini Files. That’s if my publisher can photograph your safe.”

“Sure, and it’s a great title.”

“Maybe Dino shouldn’t put those cops on your house. It’s better publicity if somebody takes a couple of shots at us.”

“The only trouble with your idea is that one or more of those shots might connect with your ass or, worse, mine.”

“There is that.”

“I don’t think it’s necessary to spill blood to publicize your book.”

“But...”

“Put it out of your mind.”

“Oh, all right. We’ll play it safe.”


The rain arrived in the late afternoon, so they met in the indoor living room for drinks.

“Jamie and I are flying back to New York tomorrow. You’re all welcome to come or stay here and fly back commercial when you can’t take the heat anymore.”

Rawls spoke up. “I bagged fourteen iguanas this afternoon, and that’s enough for me. I’ll go to New York with you and spend a few days catching up with friends.”

“You’re welcome to stay with me,” Stone said.

“Is there room for Sherry and me, too?” Bob asked.

“Of course. Sherry, my Turtle Bay house is built a lot like the Maine house: it’s a fortress, with Joan and her .45 guarding the moat.”

“Sounds great,” Sherry said. “Do you think I can sneak over to my apartment and get some clothes?”

“Bob’s good at sneaking,” Stone said. “He’ll take you.”

“I want to check on my place, too,” Bob said.

“Okay. We’re leaving for the airport at eight AM,” Stone said.

Sara called them for dinner, and they settled into the dining room.


At midday the following day, they touched down at Teterboro. Stone kept everybody aboard until the airplane had been towed into the Strategic Services hangar, then with Fred in the Bentley and another hired car, they all drove into the city and into Stone’s garage before they got out of the cars. Joan met them and handed out room assignments.

She took Stone aside. “The process server showed up again today,” she said.

“Ask Herbie to come over. We can brief him, and he can accept service.”

“When?”

“After lunch, if he’s free.”


Herbie arrived around three and shook hands with Jamie.

“I’ve already accepted service, and I’ve spoken with the Times attorneys and with the opposition, as well. I think I put the fear of God into those guys about their client having you tracked all over the eastern seaboard. I think they also understand that they don’t have a case, but they’re not turning down the Thomas money, so they’re stringing them along.”

“Well deserved,” Stone said. “I hope their lawyers bleed them dry.”

Herbie took out a legal pad and ran over a dozen points with Jamie. “I don’t have any points for you, Stone.”

“That’s okay, I’m just an innocent bystander.”

“They’ll call you the instigator of the whole thing, if we ever get as far as a courtroom.”

Jamie spoke up. “I’ll bet the Times will make more from the increased circulation and advertising revenue than the lawyers cost them.”

“That would be poetic justice,” Herbie said. He snapped his briefcase shut and stood up. “Now, let’s see if I can get out of here without somebody shooting me.

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