EPILOGUE

On Monday morning in New York, after a good breakfast at Stone’s house, Tatiana called her attorney and spoke briefly with him, then hung up the phone. “Henry has agreed to my settlement terms,” she said, smiling. “I think his night in jail made him more reasonable.”

“I’m delighted to hear it,” Stone said, kissing her. “You’ll soon be a free woman.”

“I’m looking forward to that,” Tatiana said. “Now, I must go home and get some things done.”

“Dinner tonight?” Stone asked.

“Of course,” she replied. “I’m going to be taking up most of your dinner hours from now on.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Stone replied. He walked her over to her house through the garden and set her luggage in the kitchen, then returned to his own house and went into his office. He read slowly through the Times and stopped at the business section. A headline on the first page caught his eye.


KRAMER COMPANY JOINS DEAL amp; CROW IN REAL ESTATE VENTURE


Abner Kramer, in a fax to this newspaper on Sunday afternoon, announced that he had paid Charles Crow of the new firm of Deal amp; Crow seven million dollars for two hundred thousand of Mr. Crow’s personal shares in the new company, which will have a public offering next month. Observers were surprised at the transaction, since Mr. Crow might have profited by retaining his shares for the IPO.


The rest of the piece didn’t matter. Ab Kramer had extracted his pound of flesh from Charlie Crow’s carcass.

Joan came in with the mail, and Stone handed her Barton Cabot’s check. “Please deposit this,” he said. “Then write Dino a check for two hundred thousand and one to Bob Cantor for fifty thousand. Then give the IRS their share.”

“Good,” Joan said. “What’s left will just about cover the bill on top of your mail.” She went back to her office.

Stone opened the envelope and found the invoice for the conversion of his airplane to a turboprop. Joan was right; what was left of Barton’s money would just about cover it.

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