Contraband

32

Joan buzzed again. “Dino, on one.”

“I just spoke to your wife.”

“What are you doing speaking to my wife?”

“She called me.”

“Why?”

“It was a personal matter.”

“Personal you or personal her?”

“Personal me.”

“What is my wife doing calling you about personal stuff?”

“Let’s cut this short,” Stone said. “I am not now nor have I ever been fucking your wife. Does that clear things up for you?”

“No, but I can’t talk to her about it because she just left for the airport. You want to confess over dinner?”

“Confess what?”

“Your intention to fuck my wife.”

“No, but I’ll deny it over dinner. Seven, at Patroon?”

“Right.” They both hung up.

Stone got there first and was half a drink ahead before Dino arrived and was presented with his usual scotch.

“Now,” Dino said.

“Now, what?”

“Do I have to start again at the beginning?”

“Viv called me to say that one of her guys had a guy who had been asked to dig up dirt on me.”

“By whom?”

“Randall Hedger.”

“Who the fuck is Randall Hedger? Is he fucking my wife?”

“Are you enjoying your paranoia, or shall I dispel it for you?”

“Dispel it if you can.”

“Hedger is the soon-to-be ex-husband of Roberta Calder.”

“Ah, so you’re fucking his wife, instead of mine.”

“There’s no ‘instead of.’”

“Let me put it this way: Is this Hedger paranoid?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“That’s a full and complete answer to my question.”

“I’m so happy to hear it.”

“Is he seeking to destroy your reputation or to kill you?”

“Well, if he wanted to kill me, he wouldn’t need a background investigation, would he?”

Dino ignored the question. “What are you doing about this?”

“I’ve ordered an investigation of Randall Hedger.”

“What for?”

“I want to see if he’s worthy of being despised as much as I now despise him.”

“You’re worried that you’re being irrational?”

“I’m confirming my instincts.”

“How many ex-husbands have you had to deal with over the years?”

“A few,” Stone admitted.

“Why so many?”

“Well, if you’re a bachelor, and you’re not interested in twenty-year-old girls, a third of the women you are interested in will be married, and another forty percent will be married and pursuing divorce — or just divorced. Those women come with ex-husbands.”

“How many ex-husbands have you ordered background checks on?”

Stone thought about it. “Mr. Hedger is the first.”

“So, why Hedger, but none of the others?”

“Because he tried to order a background check on me. That’s a first, too, as far as I know.”

“So this is a revenge background check you’ve ordered?”

“It’s more of a self-defense background check.”

“Did Viv’s guy’s guy take the job?”

“No, because he knew that you and Vi are my friends. But you may be sure Mr. Hedger is interviewing other investigators.”

“How may I be sure of that?”

“You can take my word for it. I’ve had more experience with ex-husbands than you have.”

Ken Aretsky, the owner of Patroon, appeared at their table, took their order, and sent them a complimentary bottle of wine.

Stone hoped that the interruption would cause a change of subject, but it did not.

“So, is this Hedger going to start taking shots at you?”

“Why would he do that?”

“As I recall, other ex-husbands have turned to violence to deal with you.”

“That doesn’t mean this one will,” Stone said. “My instincts also tell me that Hedger is a coward.”

“Cowards hire others to do their work.”

“My instincts also tell me that this one is too cheap to hire somebody.”

“But he’s already tried to hire somebody.”

“Yes, but he didn’t get as far as to inquire of the costs involved.”

“What are the costs?”

“Fifteen hundred a day, plus expenses.”

“Does that include capping you?”

“No, that would be extra — a lot extra, I should think.”

“Then let’s hope he’s cheap.”

Dinner arrived and was dealt with. They were on coffee when Dino’s phone made an odd noise.

“What was that?” Stone asked.

“Something new. It’s the ringtone that I have to answer.” Dino answered. “Bacchetti.” He listened. “In a restaurant on East Forty-Sixth Street. All right.” He hung up. “There’s a homicide a block from here,” he said.

“Do you have to go?”

“We both do.”

“Why me?”

“You’ll see.”

They got into Dino’s car. “Did you get the call on the homicide?” he asked his driver.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then take me to it.”

Two minutes later they pulled over. There were two patrol cars on the block with their flashers going. Dino got out and walked over to the object of their attention, a parked car. The driver’s-side window had a big hole in it, and there were blood and brains on it from the blowback. “What have we got?” Dino asked.

“A shooting. Looks like a pro job. A car pulled alongside the parked car and fired once.”

“What weapon?”

“Either a heavy handgun, like a .45, or a shotgun. We’ll know soon.”

“Did you ID him?”

The detective handed him a wallet. Dino looked at it for a moment, then handed it to Stone.

Stone borrowed a flashlight from a cop and turned it on. The wallet displayed a New York State driver’s license with the name “Randall R. Hedger.”

“Well,” Stone said, “I guess Herbie Fisher can tell his client that her divorce is final.”