Black Dog

Thirty-Two

Stone came down to his office the following morning with a word from the crossword still on his mind. He looked around for his Concise Oxford English Dictionary but couldn’t find it. Normally, it was within reach of his chair.

He buzzed Joan.

“Yes, boss?”

“Have you borrowed my Concise Oxford?”

“Is that the small one?”

“Yes.”

“No, but you’ve got all twenty volumes of the big one right there.”

“Every time I pick up one of those volumes, I pull a muscle.”

“I’ll have a look around for the Concise Oxford.”

“Good.”

Joan came into his office half an hour later and handed him the Concise Oxford. “There you go.”

“Thanks, where’d you find it?”

“I didn’t, Helene did.”

“Okay, where’d Helene find it?”

“You know those two guest rooms that you turned into a suite for Peter when he came to live here?”

“Yes.”

“There.” She started out of the room.

“Wait a minute.”

Joan stopped.

“How’d my Concise Oxford get into Peter’s suite? I use it every day, and I haven’t been in that suite for, what, a year? And Peter stays at the Carlyle now, when he visits.”

“Beats me.” She placed a hand on the book. “You want me to slap it around until it talks?”

“Oh, never mind.” He snatched the book away.

Stone set the dictionary on his desk and went upstairs to Peter’s suite. It was in perfect order. He walked around the two rooms and looked in the bedroom closet. There were a half dozen suits and jackets hanging there. Well, he said to himself, I guess Peter keeps a few things here for when he visits, even if he doesn’t visit anymore. He went back down to his office and sat down, staring at the beautifully bound book; he had bought it in London many years ago. The way the light caught it, he could see a partial fingerprint on the leather. He thought about that for a minute, then he scribbled a note and stuck it inside the cover, gingerly dropped the dictionary into a book mailer, and buzzed for Joan.

“What’s up, boss?”

“Are you going to go on calling me that? You’re richer than I am, for God’s sake.”

“Habit,” she said.

He handed her the book envelope. “Will you messenger this down to Dino for me, please?”

“Doesn’t the police commissioner have a dictionary?”

“I expect so. I just want him to run the fingerprints.”

“What fingerprints?”

“The ones on the dictionary.”

“I’ll save me the trouble,” she said, “you’ll find mine, yours, and Helene’s. Maybe Peter’s, if fingerprints last that long.”

“Humor me, please.”

She picked up the package and flounced out of his office.

“And don’t flounce!” he called after her.

“Why not?” she called back. “I’m richer than you!”

Stone massaged his temples and the back of his neck.

He was just finishing his lunch when Dino called.

“Hi there.”

“Hi there, my ass. Why are you making work for me?”

“What?”

“Your fucking dictionary!”

“Work?”

“Didn’t you send it to me to check for prints?”

“Oh, yes, I forgot.”

“It’s so unimportant that you forgot about it?”

“Not on purpose.”

“What did you want to know?”

“I wanted to know whose prints are on it.”

“What the fuck for? Was it stolen?”

“No, it was just somewhere in the house where it shouldn’t have been, and I want to know who handled it.”

Dino made a muttering sound. “Like we don’t have enough to do. You have to make work for us.”

“I didn’t make the work. Somebody else did.”

“Who?”

“That’s what I want to know from the prints.”

“So you want your police department to figure it out?”

“Yes, please. If you have a moment.”

“All right, I’ve got a list right here. Ready? You want to write these down?”

“Just read them to me. I can remember them.”

“Okay: yours, Joan’s, Helene’s, and Eddie Charles Jr.’s.”

“What?”

“I asked you to write them down!”

“Was Junior’s name on that list?”

“I read it out loud. Are you going deaf?”

“What are Eddie’s prints doing on my dictionary that never leaves my desk?”

“So now you want me to open a case on your dictionary?”

“No, no, Dino, just messenger it back to me.”

“You sure you don’t want it tested for bloodstains or DNA?”

“No, no, thanks for your trouble, Dino.”

“No trouble,” Dino said, then hung up.

Stone buzzed Joan.

“Yes, boss?”

“Can you come in here for a minute, please?”

“Be right there.” Joan materialized in the doorway. “Yes, sir?”

“Guess whose fingerprints are on my dictionary?”

“Okay: yours, mine, and Helene’s.”

“You missed one.”

“Who?”

“Eddie Jr.’s.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, then went back to her office.

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this!” he shouted.

“You do that!” she shouted back. “Let me know what you find when you get there!”