Hit List

29

Dino got out of the elevator, followed by two detectives wearing badges on their breast pockets. The EMTs were working on the woman, doing something to her chest and starting an IV. Dino took a good look at her before they handed him a manila envelope, then wheeled her to the elevator. “How’d it go down?” he asked.

“I was sitting at this table, looking that way.” Stone jerked his thumb. “I heard the elevator door open, and I moved over here. She had a large handbag and a small dog on a leash.”

“Yeah, the dog’s fine. He’s downstairs waiting for animal control.”

“She put her hand into her bag, groping for something, and I put mine on my gun. I saw her come out with something black, and I made the decision.”

“Good thing you didn’t think it over,” Dino said.

“Yeah, well.”

One of the detectives was clearing the .22. “Baretta,” he said. “Nice piece, if you’re going for the head.”

“Anything to add?” Dino asked.

“Nothing,” Stone replied.

“Then let’s get out of here. I’m hungry.”

Dino led the way out of the building to where both their cars were stopped. Dino’s SUV had a flashing light going. “Let’s take your car,” he said. “It’s more comfortable.” He told his people to follow them, then got into Stone’s rear seat.

Stone got in, too.

“You okay?” Dino asked, looking at him closely.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Why not?”

“You ever shoot anybody before? I mean, actually hit them?”

Stone thought about that for a moment. “No.”

“Where were you aiming?”

“Center of the chest.”

“Good thing for her you’re a lousy shot.”

Stone didn’t argue with that. He’d never spent enough time at the range.

“You missed her heart but knicked a lung, I think. The EMTs were treating her for a collapsed lung.”

“Good.”

“This is good for us,” Dino said. “We get to talk to this one.”

“Great.”

“There was no wallet or purse inside the big bag, though — no driver’s license or credit cards, just some makeup, etcetera. She’s likely a pro, but not a great one, or you’d be the one in the meat wagon.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I’m proud of you for shooting first. That’s not like you, really.”

“I guess it is when my life is at stake,” Stone said.

“I guess so. Jeez, I’m hungry.”

They pulled up outside La Goulue and waited for the officers to have a look around before they went in and occupied their table.”

The waiter brought them their usual drinks, and Dino handed him the menu. “I’ll have the steak frites,” he said. “Stone?”

“The same,” Stone said. “And two glasses of the Côtes-du-Rhône.” The waiter headed for the kitchen.

The maître d’ came over and shook their hands. “I checked the reservations, Dino,” he said. “There’s nobody here that I don’t know.”

“Thanks,” Dino said. “Please let us know if a stranger, male or female, comes in.”

“Certainly.” The man walked away.

Stone excused himself and went into the men’s room. He looked at himself in the mirror: a little pale, he thought. He splashed some cold water on his face and neck, wiped it with a towel, took a few deep breaths, then went back to the table.

Dino was on the phone. “Yeah,” he was saying, “keep me posted. I want somebody talking to her the minute she’s conscious.” He hung up. “The woman is in surgery. She’ll live, but she won’t enjoy it much with the DA breathing down her neck. She’ll do time, if she doesn’t do some fast talking.”

“This is not going to end,” Stone said, “until everybody on the list, including me, is dead.”

“Unless we get Sig Larkin first,” Dino said.

Dino’s phone rang. “Bacchetti.” He listened. “Thanks, keep calling.” He hung up. “The woman had a couple grand in hundreds in her bag,” he said. “You’re cheap game, apparently.”

“That was a down payment,” Stone said. “She’d have gotten more if she’d gone home with my scalp.”

“Now, there’s a pretty thought,” Dino said. “You being scalped at Turnbull & Asser.”

“I was speaking figuratively,” Stone said.

“Yeah, but there was nothing figurative about her,” Dino said. “I can’t wait until we find out who she is. I’ll bet we clear a few more murders.”

“There aren’t all that many female pros working,” Stone said. “I can remember us busting only one.”

“Yeah, I remember that one, too. She was some goombah’s girlfriend. She was playing a waitress at some joint downtown when these two guys came in. She opened a bottle of wine, and while one of them was tasting it, she put a round in both their heads.”

“Who can miss at eighteen inches?” Stone commented.

“Still, it took guts. She was cool.”

Their steaks arrived, and Dino dug in.

Stone stared at his, then tried a french fry.

“What’s the matter?” Dino asked. “Something wrong with your steak?”

“It’s fine, I’m just not hungry.” He flagged down a waiter and asked him to wrap up his food.

“Yeah,” Dino said. “I guess I’d be off my feed, too, if I’d just shot somebody.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Stone said. “You’d be halfway through your steak by now.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t let it come between me and a steak.”

Stone sipped a little of his wine. “What do I do next?” he asked.

“I think your suggestions were helpful,” Dino said. “We stand a better chance, now.”

“Larkin has the advantage, still,” Stone pointed out. “We don’t know when or where he’s coming from next time.”

“There’s always that,” Dino said. “I’ll have a quiet word with my people and make sure he takes one in the head.”

“Good idea,” Stone said.

Dino finished his steak and ordered espresso. Stone stuck with his wine, but not much of it. Dino got the check, and the waiter brought Stone’s steak, wrapped to go.

They got up and headed for the door. “Me first,” Dino said. “I’ll have a good look around.”

Stone didn’t argue with him.