Hot Mahogany

48

They found seats on the sweeping staircase that led to Harlan Deal’s no doubt very elegant bedrooms, and were kept in Dom Perignon by revolving waiters.

“Who are these people?” Tatiana asked, looking around at the crowd.

“The crumbs of the upper crust, as Charlie McCarthy used to say.”

“Who?”

“A woodenheaded young gentleman who used to sit on the knee of a man named Bergen.”

“Oh, of course. What are the qualifications for being crumbs of the upper crust?”

“Well, they used to be money and breeding, but now it’s just money. Consider our host. How do you know him, by the way?”

“A friend of a friend,” she replied. “I think she had some match-making in mind, but after meeting Mr. Deal…” She didn’t finish the sentence; she didn’t have to.

“You have such good taste.”

“I know what I don’t like when I see it. You’re right. His only qualification is money.”

“Apart from a nearly-ex husband, do you have other means of support? A career, I mean.”

“I’m an illustrator.”

“Of what?”

“Of anything anyone will hire me to illustrate: advertisements, book jackets, fashion layouts for magazines. I was going to say album covers, but they’re too small these days to be much fun, and matchbooks, but since nobody smokes anymore, they hardly exist.”

“Have you actually illustrated a matchbook?”

“I did several tiny drawings for ones you used to see on restaurant tables. They’re gone, mostly… the restaurants, I mean.”

“Where do you live?” He asked.

“In Turtle Bay on the north side.”

“You are conveniently located. I live in Turtle Bay on the south side.”

“In that case, you must lead me up the garden path some time.”

“I would be delighted to lead you up the garden path.”

She laughed. “Oh. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Didn’t you?”

“Well, not yet.”

“Where will you live when you’re divorced? Or have you thought that far ahead?”

“I’m determined to keep the house,” she said. “I’ll have to buy his half with some of my settlement.”

“Is the divorce amicable?”

“Not by any stretch of the imagination. He’s very angry.”

“Are there children?”

“Only a cat, and she is a premarital asset, so I expect to retain custody.”

“It sounds as though you have the settlement all worked out.”

“Oh, no. We may end up in court, though I’m trying to avoid that.”

“Don’t try too hard to avoid it; you’ll damage your negotiating position. You must appear willing to sue, if necessary.”

“That’s good advice. Do you always give good advice?”

“As I was telling a friend the other day, yes. If I don’t know what I’m talking about, I try and shut up.”

“That’s more than I can say for most people.”

Stone looked up and saw Barton Cabot and Carla approaching. “My word,” he said.

“What?” Tatiana asked.

Stone got to his feet. “I’ll explain later.” He shook Barton’s hand and was allowed to peck Carla on the cheek. “May I introduce Tatiana Orlovsky?” he said. “Tatiana, this is Barton Cabot and Carla. Just Carla, before you ask.”

Tatiana shook their hands.

“I must say,” Stone said, “I’m even more surprised to find you two here than I am to find me here.”

“An invitation was delivered this morning,” Barton said, “as we were leaving the house.”

“I took it as a sort of peace offering,” Carla said, “since both our names were on the envelope.”

“We spent most of the day in Bristol, photographing Mildred Strong’s house and all her pieces,” Barton said. “Carla turns out to be an excellent photographer.”

“Did you remember to inquire about her acquaintance with our friend, Crow?”

“I did. She admitted to selling him something, but she wouldn’t say what. Not something on our list, though.”

“Did you ask how they met?”

“Through a friend, she said, but when I asked who, she changed the subject.”

“I hope you were able to warn her about Crow.”

“I tried. I hope it registered.”

“So do I. Tatiana, forgive us for discussing business. We’ll stop now.”

“You are kind. I think I’ll seek out the powder room.”

“May I join you?” Carla asked.

“Of course.” The ladies left them.

Stone turned to Barton. “How did Mr. Deal react at seeing you together?”

“Graciously,” Barton replied. “Having invited us, how else could he behave?”

“I don’t know,” Stone said. “He’s an odd one. He sent people into my houses in Washington and in the city. Messed with my dressing room.”

“What?”

Stone told him about the incident. “You may arrive home and find your living room rearranged.”

“I don’t think odd is a strong enough word for this fellow,” Barton said, gazing across the room at his host.

“I was about to say,” Stone said, “that I think I’ll avoid his company in the future, but then, look what I found by seeking his company tonight.” He nodded toward Tatiana, who was coming back from the ladies’, followed by Carla. They stopped to speak to someone.

“There’s something I should tell you about Carla,” Stone said.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, I know that, by now, you must know her better than I, but it’s about her last name.”

“What is her last name? She wouldn’t tell me.”

“It’s Bianchi. Her grandfather is a friend of mine, Eduardo Bianchi.”

“How odd,” Barton said. “I sold him a pair of tables a few years ago.”

“You do get around, Barton. So you know who he is?”

“You mean the Mafia connection? I’ve heard about that.”

“Some of the women in the family can be a little screwy,” Stone said, reflecting on his experience with Dolce, Eduardo’s daughter. “You might keep that in mind.”