Dirt

Chapter 50

By the time Stone had rented a car it was snowing steadily, and he was already across the George Washington Bridge before he realized he shouldn’t have come. The car was a small one – the only thing available – and he felt unsafe in it, sliding on patches of ice. The snowplows were doing their work, though, removing the accumulation and depositing grit, so he made it to Rahway. He asked a policeman for directions, and he found the house easily enough, in a pleasantly posh neighborhood, the kinds of houses owned by commuters who held executive positions in the city. Louise Bruce Burch lived in a two-story red brick Georgian revival house with slender columns in front; there was a BMW under the carport. He parked in front of the house, made his way up some snowy steps, wishing he’d brought galoshes, and rang the bell. Louise was, somehow, a surprise.

She was of medium height, with sandy blonde hair and a particularly taut body for a suburbanite. Lots of tennis and treadmill, he thought. She did not appear displeased to see him. “Good morning,” she said pleasantly.

“Mrs. Burch?”

“Louise Burch.”

“My name is Stone Barrington; I’m an attorney. I wonder if I might speak to you for a few minutes.”

“Why not?” she said gaily. “Come on back to the kitchen.”

He caught a whiff of alcohol as he followed her down a hallway, past a quite formal living room and a small library, to the kitchen, which turned out to be a very large room, with a comfortable seating area before a fireplace. There was a fire going, and a half-empty glass of some brown liquor on the coffee table. There was a stack of house design magazines on the table as well; she had obviously been going through them.

“Please have a seat,” she said, indicating the sofa. “I know it’s a little early, but I’m having a drink; can I get you one?”

Thinking that having a drink in his hand might make it a bit harder for her to throw him out when she learned why he was there, he accepted. “Bourbon, if you have it.”

“Wild Turkey okay?”

“That would be splendid; on the rocks, please.” He looked out the window at the snow. “It’s becoming a nasty day out there.”

She returned shortly with a large drink for him, then sat next to him on the sofa, turned toward him, and drew her knees up, revealing fine legs under a short skirt. “Now, whatever can I do for you, Mr…”

“Barrington. Stone.”

“Stone,” she said. “I’m Lou. You said you’re a lawyer?”

“Yes, in New York.”

“And what brings you all the way from the city on a day like today?”

“I wanted to talk to you about your brothers.”

She gave a short, sharp laugh. “You’re a policeman, aren’t you?”

“I used to be.”

“And now you practice at the bar?”

“Yes. Why did you laugh when I said I was here about your brothers?”

“Well, Stone, you aren’t exactly the first,” she said. “There have been a parade of policemen through my house over the years, usually looking for Charlie. But you said ‘brothers,’ in the plural, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Funny, no one has ever come looking for Tommy before.”

Stone sipped his drink. “I was wondering if you know how I could get in touch with them? Either or both?”

“Now, why would a lawyer want to get in touch with my brothers? A cop, I could understand, but a lawyer? Do you want to sue one of them?”

“No, as a matter of fact, although I am a lawyer, I’m not here in that capacity. It’s more of a personal matter.”

“How did you get my name and address?” she asked.

“From someone in Washington who used to know Tommy.” That was technically correct. “He didn’t have a current address.”

“Washington, huh? Yes, Tommy used to live there; Tommy has lived in lots of places, lots of countries. He was something in the diplomatic corps, I believe. He was always hazy about exactly what he did.”

“Have you…” He was interrupted by the telephone ringing.

“Excuse me,” she said, then got up and went to a counter where the phone rested. “Hello? Oh, yes, honey, how are you? Everything going well?”

Stone sipped his drink and looked idly around the room. He felt that in a couple of minutes he was going to know how to find Dryer, or Bruce. He still thought of him as Dryer.

“How much do you need, honey?” she was asking. “Good God, we sent you down there with enough spending money for the whole semester! You were supposed to discipline your own spending, remember?”

Stone, who had not eaten for five hours. was starting to feel the bourbon.

“Well, if it’s an emergency, I’ll send it, but I am not going down to Western Union; I’ll just mail you a check. And if I have this kind of call again, I’m going to let your father handle it! Now you…” She swore and hung up the phone.

Stone looked over at her, then away.

She came back to the couch, downed the last third of her drink, and went back toward the kitchen. “My daughter,” she said. “She’s in her first year at the University of Virginia. Doesn’t know the meaning of money.” She came back to the sofa carrying a fresh drink. “You have any kids?”

“No, I’m a bachelor.”

“A bachelor,” she said. She allowed her hand to brush the back of his. “An interesting one, too. How is it you never married, Stone?”

Stone shrugged and gave her his stock answer. “Just lucky, I guess.”

She laughed as if this were really funny. “Yes, I’m all alone now, I guess. Husband ran off with a twenty-two-year-old, if you can believe it; daughter in college. It’s just me now.” She waved a hand. “All alone in this big house.”

“I shouldn’t think a woman as attractive as you are would be alone for very long.”

She raised her glass. “Thank you, kind sir. You really know what to say to a girl.”

Stone felt a need to change the subject. “Have you seen either of your brothers lately?”

She set her drink down. “Why don’t we change the subject for a while?”

“What did you have in mind for a subject?” he asked mildly.

“Oh, if you knew what I had in mind,” she said, smiling.

He believed he did know, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle it. He certainly didn’t want to annoy her and get thrown out before he had found out what he came for, and she was extremely attractive, except for the booze, and he was feeling just a little boozy himself. What canon of ethics covered this situation? None, he decided; he was on his own. Then he saw her nipples rise under her sweater. He had never seen that happen before. He was lost. “Your nipples are hard,” he said.

“How can you tell?” she asked, “when you haven’t touched them?”

He reached out and rubbed the back of his fingers lightly against her breasts. “Confirmed,” he said.

“Not really,” she said. She pulled her sweater over her head, released her bra from behind, and dropped it on the floor.

“Reconfirmed,” he said, reaching for her.

He got out of the shower and went to find his clothes in the kitchen seating area. Once dressed, he decided to look around. There was a phone book on the kitchen counter, and under “Tommy” was scribbled “Chelsea Hotel.” He wondered how old that address was. He went into the living room and found nothing of interest, then tried the library. On a bookcase were a lot of silver-framed family photographs. One of them had been taken in some tropical place; there were palms and a beach. A man dressed in the uniform of a navy lieutenant was standing next to a handsome blond woman. Arrayed at their feet were two little boys and an older girl of maybe twelve – pretty, straw-haired, smiling.

“Better days,” she said from behind him. She was tying a robe around her.

“I thought you were sound asleep,” he said.

“So you just thought you’d have a look around.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Did you find Tommy and Charlie?”

“No. Would you like to tell me where they are?”

“Why do you want to find them?”

“I told you, it’s a personal matter. One of them – Tommy, I think – has my wristwatch; it has a lot of sentimental value.”

She smiled. “Tommy always loved watches. Strange thing.”

“Where is he?”

“In New York; but you know that already.”

“Yes. Do you have an address for him?”

“Last I heard, Tommy had an apartment on Ninety-first Street.”

“Not any more; he’s moved. Do you know where?”

She crossed her arms. “He may be a bastard,” she said, “but he’s my little brother.”

“If you tell me where to find him, I may be able to keep him from getting into more trouble than he’s already in.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“Stealing, mostly.”

“From you?”

“Among others.”

“I talked to him last night, for the first time in more than a year; he said he was about to strike it rich.”

“Did he say how?”

“He said that he possessed very valuable knowledge. That’s all he said.”

“And you don’t know where he’s living?”

She looked at the floor and shook her head.

He couldn’t blame her. He walked to where she stood, kissed her on the cheek, and left.