Class Act

53

Hilda put down her fork. “All right, I’ll kill Sal tomorrow night. We already have a date.”

“Where are you going for dinner?”

“His place.”

“How convenient. Will there be anyone else present at his residence?”

“No. Sal’s idea of a good dinner before sex is a pizza from Domino’s — the Extravaganza, hold the green peppers.”

“An Italian who doesn’t like green peppers?”

“He’s allergic.”

“Allergic enough to kill him?”

“If I could trick him into eating them.”

“I think you’d better have a plan B,” Stone said.

“I can tuck a straight razor into my garter belt.”

“I’ve never seen you wear a garter belt.”

“Sal likes them.”

“So do I. I never knew Sal and I had anything in common, except you.”

“The nice thing about the straight razor is that it’s fast, nearly painless, and the amount of blood rushing out paralyzes the victim with fear.”

“Suppose his anger overcomes his fear for a few seconds. How will you handle that?”

“He will weaken almost instantly. I’ll be stronger than he. That’s how it went with Cara, except I used an ice pick through the back and into the heart.”

Stone must have exhibited a moment of revulsion, because she said, “In your shower. All the blood was washed away.”

“Excuse me a moment,” Stone said. “I have to use your powder room.” She pointed, and he found it just in time to vomit neatly into the toilet. So much for the prime beef. He splashed cold water on his face, then slapped himself hard a couple of times, to be sure his face was not drained of color. He returned to the table, looking at his watch. “I have to go,” he said.

“Why?”

“To begin to establish my alibi. I was never here, for a start.”

“The elevator man will have seen you.”

“I took the elevator to two floors below, then walked up. I’ll walk down two floors, then ring for the elevator.”

“I approve.”

Stone got dressed. “It’s been fun,” he said.

“Sal will be dead by nine o’clock tomorrow evening,” Hilda said. “What do I do when I’m done?”

“Send me an e-mail with half a dozen pictures of the body, then erase it from your phone. I’ll text you instructions for collecting the cash. My car will appear nearby. Rap twice on the trunk lid, and my driver will open it. The package will be in plain view. Don’t concern yourself with him as a witness. The car is armored, as is the glass pane between the front and rear seats, and my driver was the Royal Marines pistol champion, three years running. Once you close the trunk lid, he’ll be gone, and you’ll be rich — including Cara’s 25K. By the way, she made the front page of the Miami Herald.”

He kissed her softly and left, walking down two flights and ringing for the elevator there.

Fred was waiting with the car. “P. J. Clarke’s,” Stone said to him.

“Are we on for tomorrow evening?” Fred asked.

“Yes. It will be exactly as we discussed.”

Stone got out at Clarke’s and found Dino on his second drink.

“Let’s go straight in,” Stone said. “I’m starved.”

“Didn’t she give you dinner?” Dino asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” Stone replied. “I rejected it.”

They ordered.

“How is it going to go?” Dino asked.

“Don’t ask me questions you don’t want the answer to.”

“Don’t start with that again. I need to know.”

“Why?”

“To cover your ass, if it goes wrong.”

“I think it will go as it should.”

“Suppose she misses?”

“She’s going to use a straight razor.”

“Do I need to know where?”

“The medical examiner will explain it to you, in due course,” Stone said.

“I have to wait for his report?”

“No, he can tell you on the phone.”

“When is this taking place?”

“Before nine o’clock tomorrow evening,” Stone said.

“Where?”

“At Trafficante’s home. I don’t know where that is, and it’s just as well you don’t, either.”

“Is she going to call it in?”

“I doubt it. Would you, given the circumstances?”

“No, I’d get the hell out of there.”

“I expect she will, too.”