Worst Fears Realized

29

EDUARDO BIANCHI LED THE WAY INTO A richly paneled study, all walnut and leather. The shelves were filled with gorgeously bound books, and the paintings on the walls were newer than those in the rest of the house, but very good.

“Will you join me in a glass of port?” Bianchi asked.

“Thank you, yes,” Stone replied.

Bianchi went to a butler’s tray across the room and read the label on a bottle from which the cork had been drawn.

Stone took the opportunity to pull up his sock.

“Pietro has decanted a Quinto do Noval Nacionale ‘63 for us,” he said, setting down the empty bottle, picking up a beautifully blown Georgian decanter, and pouring two glasses. He handed one to Stone, indicated that he should sit in one of a pair of wing chairs, side by side, then sat down beside him. He raised his glass. “To the future,” he said. “May it be less uncertain.”

Stone wondered what his host meant by that. He sipped the wine, which filled his mouth with the most wonderful flavors. “It’s superb,” he said.

Bianchi nodded. “The Nacionale vineyard at Quinto do Noval is very small, containing the last of their oldest vines that have not yet been attacked by the phylloxera pest that wiped out most European vineyards in the last century. We will not always have this wine to drink.”

Stone sipped it gratefully.

“I have heard a great deal about you over the years,” Bianchi said. “From Dino and Anna Maria – she prefers a more American version of her name. And, of course, I have heard of you from others.”

“Others?” Stone could not prevent himself from asking.

“We have acquaintances in common.”

“We do?” Stone bit his tongue. He must stop responding like a trained bird.

“I am occasionally represented in some matters by Woodman and Weld, with whom, I believe, you are associated.”

Stone nearly choked on his port. Woodman & Weld was representing a Mafioso?

“Perhaps this surprises you?”

“Well, no,” Stone lied.

“I understand that most, perhaps all of what you know of me is from Dino.”

“Well…”

“My daughter’s husband and I subscribe to, shall we say, different philosophies of life. And Dino is not so tolerant as I when judging others; therefore, something of a gulf exists between us, one that I fear may never be bridged.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I. I have the greatest respect for the intelligence and integrity that my son-in-law brings to his work. His manners are another matter.”

“Dino is, sometimes, a bit too frank.”

Bianchi laughed for the first time, revealing magnificent dental work. “One could say that. He is not, you understand, disrespectful – not to my face, at least. But as a modern Italian-American, he does not fully grasp the meaning of my family’s history. Dino is from a northern Italian family, whereas we are Sicilian. Our customs are very old, and they still shape our daily lives in ways that Dino cannot fully appreciate.”

“I see.”

“Perhaps you do; perhaps not. It is paradoxical that honor is so important to both Dino and me, and yet, we take very different paths to the upholding of honor. Dino does not yet understand that I approved of his marriage to Anna Maria.”

Stone could not resist. “Approved? It was my understanding that you insisted on it.”

Bianchi laughed again. “Well, yes, I suppose I did. A wedding in the presence of a shotgun is not unknown in my family. In fact, there was one present at my own marriage. And my wife and I had a richly rewarding marriage for forty-one years, before her death last year.”

“I believe Dino and Mary Ann have such a marriage,” Stone said.

“I hope you are right,” Bianchi said. “What I know of the marriage tends to come from Anna Maria, and sometimes I am not sure whether she is more motivated by loyalty than by love.”

“I assure you, she is not.”

“Thank you, Mr. Barrington; you have made an old man feel better.” Then his face clouded. “A man’s daughters are important to him,” he said, hesitantly. “And when I heard that an attempt had been made on Anna Maria’s life, I was very angry.”

“I can understand that.”

“Since I have no sons, my grandson is extremely important to me, and now he cannot even attend his school.”

“I know.”

“But I have held my temper. I understand that it is Dino’s place – both by dint of his place in her life and by his work – to correct this situation. It is only right that he should have that opportunity. However, to date, his best efforts have been insufficient.”

“It is a difficult case,” Stone said. “In a situation like this, Dino is at a very great disadvantage.”

“Revenge is always difficult, even tedious, when it must be accomplished within the framework of the laws of this country,” Bianchi said.

“You do understand, though, that the only way Dino can deal with this is within the law?”

“I do understand, and that is why I have been so patient. However, my patience is not inexhaustible, and I am not required to operate under the same constraints as Dino.” He gazed at Stone. “Neither, for that matter, are you.”

Stone did not reply to that.

“I understand that you, too, were once a policeman, and that now you are a lawyer, and that your background and inclinations may cause you also to feel constrained.”

“Yes,” Stone said.

“But, perhaps, not so much as Dino.”

Stone was wary, now, and said nothing.

Bianchi crossed his legs and sipped his port. “I am aware that you spent some days in California last year.”

“Yes, I did.” What was the man getting at?

“And word has reached me that, when you felt wronged by another man, you took the extraordinary step of sinking his very large and very expensive yacht.”

Stone was astonished. “Did you hear this from Dino?”

Bianchi shook his head slowly. “I was, shall we say, indirectly acquainted with the yacht’s owner.”

“I see.”

Bianchi raised a hand. “Only in the most legitimate sense, you understand. I have interests on the West Coast, and they sometimes coincided with the interests of the gentleman in question. He did, after all, run a large banking business – in addition to his other interests, of course.”

“Of course.”

“What impressed me about this incident was the very carefully crafted nature of your vengeance.”

Stone wondered for a moment if this conversation was being overheard by some federal representative, but then he remembered that the feds were very aware of the incident. “I wasn’t thinking very carefully at the time,” he said.

“Then your instincts speak well of you. Somehow, you looked at this man and knew that little else could hurt him as much as the loss of his beloved status symbol.”

“I suppose there’s some truth to that.”

“I’m glad you and I understand each other, Mr. Barrington.”

We do? Stone thought.

“You see, just as you were protecting a cherished woman at that time, you are now protecting yet another woman important to you.”

“Yes,” Stone agreed.

“As am I,” Bianchi said. “Do you understand?”

“Up to a point,” Stone replied.

“You understand that I would like to help bring an end to this business?”

“Of course.”

“And that I cannot tread on Dino’s toes, as it were.”

“Yes.”

“Then perhaps it might be possible for me to help you, instead of Dino.”

“You must understand, Mr. Bianchi, that Dino is my closest friend, that I owe him my life, quite literally.”

“Of course. I know all about that, and I understand completely. I am not suggesting that you should do anything to violate that friendship.”

“Good.”

“I am merely saying that there may arise information that Dino would not wish to be privy to, and that our sometimes awkward relationship prevents me from offering him.”

“What sort of information?”

“Then you will accept this from me?”

Stone was uncomfortable. “I’m not certain what I would be accepting.”

“I understand that this Mitteldorfer, on being released from prison, has disappeared.”

“That is correct.”

“Perhaps I can help you find him.”

“How can you do that?”

Bianchi shrugged. “Let us just say that I have… acquaintances who have acquaintances who have friends who might be able to help. If I should request it.”

“I must tell you, I am uncomfortable with this.”

Bianchi held up a hand. “I understand completely.” He reached into the ticket pocket in his jacket, produced a card, and handed it to Stone.

Stone examined it. It contained only a Manhattan telephone number.

“If you should feel you need my… advice, please telephone this number and leave a recorded message. Someone representing me will be in touch.”

Stone pocketed the card and gave Bianchi his own, which seemed only courteous, in the circumstances.

“I will wait to hear from you before making inquiries,” Bianchi said. “Shall we join the others?” He replenished their glasses, and they walked slowly toward the door. “Perhaps, if you will permit me, I will just speak a name to you. The name is Judson Palmer.”

“It doesn’t ring a bell,” Stone said.

“Mr. Palmer is a minor theatrical producer,” Bianchi said, taking Stone’s arm.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“It was he who was having an affair with Mitteldorfer’s wife when she was murdered.”

“Does Mitteldorfer know who he is?”

“That is uncertain.”

“Thank you.”

Bianchi stopped walking. “Stone – may I call you Stone?”

“Of course.”

“And please call me Eduardo.”

“Thank you.”

“I have very much enjoyed our evening together. I don’t go out much since my wife’s death, but it would please me if you would accept another invitation to dinner here.”

“Thank you, Eduardo; I’d be very pleased to come.”

The two men walked back to the small sitting room and joined the others. A large woman in an old-fashioned black dress had joined the group.

“Allow me to introduce my sister, Rosaria,” Bianchi said.

Stone took her hand. “Dinner was a wonderful experience,” he said. The woman blushed. Bianchi sat next to her.

Stone chose a seat as far as possible from Dolce Bianchi.