Black Dog

Forty-Five

As the TV came up, Stone saw a familiar edifice, but it took him a moment to place it. Annetta Charles’s house, now Joan’s. He turned up the sound. “...found dead in the living room of the mansion, near where a previous murder occurred. The woman was a housemaid, hired only a few days ago. Police said the murder had been perpetrated on a lower floor of the mansion, then the body was moved upstairs to the living room, where the butler discovered it as he was turning off the lights for the night. She was Eastern European and was in this country on a temporary visa.”

Stone’s phone rang. “Yes?”

“It’s Joan.”

“I’ve got the TV on. Were you harmed?”

“Just frightened,” she replied. “She was the first person I hired. An agency sent her over.”

“Take some deep breaths.”

“After East Hampton, I know the drill, thanks.”

“Do you want to stay here tonight? Perhaps a few days?”

“No, I’m not going to let the little creep scare me out of another house.”

“Are we thinking of the same little creep? The description seems to apply.”

“We are.”

“Make sure to ask the police to search every room, every nook and cranny, including the garage. Is the extra Mercedes still there?”

“No, it was gone when I got home.”

“Did the locksmith replace the lock on the door of the maid’s room off the garage?”

“He did. I had a look at that, and my key worked.”

“Did you go inside?”

“No, my nerve failed me at that point. If she’d been left in that room, we still wouldn’t have found her.”

“Keep listening to your nerve, and sleep with your gun under your pillow. It will be more comforting than it sounds.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Do you want me to come over and spend the night?”

“Certainly not! What kind of girl do you think I am?”

“The regular kind, I suppose.”

“Nevertheless, my .45 will be my only company — it’s a relief to have it back.”

“As you wish. Call if you need me.”

“I think I can handle it.” She hung up.

A moment later, the phone rang. “Yes?”

“It’s Sandy. Does your intuition extend as far as the Upper East Side?”

“No, but the murder was at my secretary’s house.”

“Was it she?”

“No, she just called. The butler found the body as he was turning off lights for the night.”

“How is it that you have a secretary with what was described on TV as ‘one of the largest houses on the Upper East Side’?”

“An aunt left it to her — not long ago. She’s barely moved in. Why did you think I might have intuited something about the murder?”

“Well, that’s what happened at my house, wasn’t it?”

“No, it wasn’t. I was a witness to that murder. I didn’t intuit it.”

“Oh, that’s right. I’m sorry. I woke you for nothing.”

“You didn’t wake me. I was intuiting the murder on local TV news.”

“Are you going to have any trouble getting to sleep?”

“None at all.”

“Because maybe I could help.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t extend that invitation twice on the same night. That would be excessive.”

“Well, I’m going to have trouble sleeping tonight. Do you want to come over here?”

“Thanks, but I’m all settled in with the TV now. Perhaps another night soon.”

“How about tomorrow night?” she asked.

“Does the invitation include dinner?”

“Well, we can order in a pizza or Chinese. I don’t cook.”

“In that case, let’s do it at my house.” He gave her the house number. “Come over at about six o’clock. I’ll give you a drink, then dinner.”

“Are you cooking?”

“No, I employ a full-time cook, and she’s much better at it than I am.”

“How are we dressing?”

“In as little as we can get away with.”

“Hmmm,” she said. “See you at sixish.”

Dino called. “Dinner tonight?”

“Sorry, I’m booked.”

“Aha!”

“It’s your fault,” Stone said. “You didn’t show for dinner last night, so I had to get myself picked up.”

“And we all know that is easily accomplished.”

“You heard about the killing at Joan’s house?”

“In East Hampton?”

“On the Upper East Side. You’re a little slow on the uptake, aren’t you? There’s a murder on your old stomping ground, and you don’t know about it.”

“The file just landed on my desk,” Dino said. “I’ll call you when I’ve had a look at it.” He hung up.

Joan seemed much more herself when she turned up on time for work Monday morning.

“How did you sleep last night?” Stone asked.

“Very well once I tucked the .45 under my pillow. It had a calming effect.”

“Have you heard any more from the police?”

“A detective called this morning, just to see if I was all right.”

“That’s not why he called.”

“You think he had something more in mind?”

“Based on my experience as a detective, I do. Calling the next morning was not on his checklist.”

“He was kind of cute,” she said.

“That’s what they used to say about me.”

“Uh-oh.” She went back to her desk.