Class Act

46

Jack Coulter walked out onto his terrace overlooking Central Park, wet a finger, and held it up to judge the breeze. Almost none. The sun shone brightly; it was an inviting day.

He left the building and set out at a brisk walk for the Brook, his favorite club. Fifteen minutes later he was being seated alone at a table in the rapidly filling dining room. Five minutes after that, the head of the Mafia on the East Coast of the United States and his consigliere were seated not five feet from him. It took only a glance to recognize Don Antonio Datilla and Sal Trafficante, before they noticed him, and by then he was deeply into the menu.

They discussed the food in English, ordered. Then, after checking out Jack thoroughly and finding him to be an upper-class white man of no interest to him, nor they to him, slipped into their Sicilian dialect.

“So Hilda’s back?” the Don said.

“Yeah,” Sal replied. “I gave her a good going over to keep her honest, but not enough to make her look bad on stage tonight. I couldn’t stretch her booking; last night was her last performance at the Carlyle.”

“What will you do with her next? She’s a very useful person, I have found. She kills without batting an eye.”

“We’ll see,” Sal replied.

“Barrington?”

“I can’t let myself be seen by that gentleman.”

Coulter, who had been getting bored, sat up a little straighter.

“Why not?” the Don asked.

“We had an encounter in London.”

“What was Barrington doing in London when Hilda was here?”

“I think he was looking for me. He came into my hotel suite with a gun.”

“Why didn’t you kill him?”

“Two reasons: It’s messy to kill abroad; our friends are fewer there. The other is that I was in my pajamas, with no weapon handy.”

“I cannot imagine you without a weapon handy,” the Don said.

“In a suite at the Savoy?”

“Let that be a lesson.”

“Oh, yes, but it makes it difficult, if not impossible, to approach Barrington. He knows me now.”

“Where is Hilda now?”

“On her way to Key West, Florida.”

“Why there?”

“Because Barrington has offered her his house there, to keep her safe from me.”

The Don digested this for a moment. “Will Barrington visit her there?”

“Her allure is such that I think he might find that an irresistible idea,” Sal said.

“Ideal,” the Don said. “She can kill him there and walk away. No one there knows her, right?”

“Right.”

“She finds him attractive. Will she have the guts to do it?”

“Her guts can be purchased.”

“For how much?”

“First, she has to lure him there,” Sal said “Once she’s inside his head, he’ll do whatever she desires.”

“She’s that good in bed, eh?”

“Better than anyone could imagine.”

“If I were younger, I’d try her on for size.”

“You would not be disappointed,” Sal said. “Would you like me to arrange a trip to Key West for you?”

The Don held up both hands. “No, no. I’d never be able to explain it to my wife. Besides, I’m not sure my heart could stand it.”

“Yes, but what a way to go!”

The two men laughed heartily.

Coulter’s soup came and he drank it slowly.

“You didn’t tell me how much she’d cost,” the Don said.

“We paid her fifty grand to do Manny Fiore.”

“Ouch! Are you going to tell me she’ll cost a hundred grand?”

“She felt nothing for Manny, but she’ll have some scruples to overcome with Barrington.”

“Scruples are expensive.”

“Exactly.

“All right, a hundred grand — for you. I wouldn’t do that for anyone else.”

“Thank you, Don Antonio. I will be eternally grateful. I wish I could get close enough to do it myself. I’d like to watch him die.”

Coulter finished his lunch and watched them depart as he had his dessert. Those two would never dream that someone at the Brook would have understood their conversation. He gave them time enough to drive away, then he signed his check and went looking for a cab.

Stone was finishing a sandwich at his desk and feeling a little sore. It amazed him that he could still be aroused just by thinking about Hilda and what they had done the afternoon before. It was disturbing, too.

He jumped as his cell phone rang. “Yes?”

“I just got in and got settled,” Hilda said. “I’m lying on your bed, thinking about yesterday.”

“A pity you’re so far away.”

“You’re the one who’s far away,” she said. “Why don’t you come and visit me here? The weather is lovely.”

“It’s not so bad here,” he said.

“Do you know what I would like to do to you, if you were here?”

“Don’t tell me.”

She told him.

“Stop it.”

“Are you getting, ah, interested?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Good, that’s a start. Let me see what else I can think of.”

“Please don’t.”

She thought of something.

“I have to go now.”

“No, you have to come now.”

“I’d need you for that.”

“I’m right here,” she said. “Come tomorrow.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Stone said.

“We both already know what you can do,” she said. “Just do it here.”

“I’ll think about it,” Stone said, then hung up.

He was thinking about it! Was he crazy?