Insatiable Appetites

35

Stone arrived at his desk pretty much on time, and Joan came in. “We’ve got a little problem,” she said, “and you need to make a call.”

“What problem?”

“I called Frank Campbell’s Funeral Parlor for Bruce about picking up Evan Hills’s body and sending it to Philadelphia, but they need a death certificate and permission of a relative.”

Stone called Dino.

“Hey.”

“Hey, there. I need your help.”

“Officially?”

“This time, yes. Will you call the ME and have him issue a death certificate for Evan Hills and release that and the body to Frank Campbell’s?”

“At whose request?”

“Mine. I’m Hills’s executor.”

“That’ll do. I’ll call him right now.” Dino hung up.

Stone buzzed Joan.

“Taken care of?”

“Yes, you can tell Campbell’s to go ahead. Where is the body being sent?”

“To a Philadelphia funeral director suggested by Campbell’s. Bruce didn’t know what else to do.”

“Okay.”

A few minutes later, Bruce knocked on the door and came in. “Good morning, Stone.”

“Good morning, Bruce.”

“Thank you for helping with the funeral home. I’ve called Evan’s father’s number twice but haven’t been able to reach him.”

“Does he know who you are?”

“Very unlikely.”

“May I have the father’s number?”

Bruce handed it to him. “His name is Elton Hills.” Stone dialed the number but got only a beep.

“Mr. Hills,” he said, “my name is Stone Barrington. I’m an attorney in New York, and I’m the executor of your son Evan’s estate. I would be grateful if you would contact me regarding funeral arrangements.” Stone left his number and hung up. “I hope you slept well.”

“Thanks, I did.”

Joan buzzed. “I have Mr. Elton Hills on one.”

“That was fast.” Stone pressed the button. “This is Stone Barrington.”

“This is Elton Hills, and I got your message. Are you telling me my son is dead?”

“Mr. Hills, I regret to have to tell you that he is. I’m sorry if my message shocked you. I had thought you would have already heard.”

“I don’t keep up with the news much. How did he die?”

“In what appears to have been a traffic accident in New York. He was struck by a car while crossing the street.”

“When?”

“The day before yesterday. A friend of Evan’s arranged for a New York funeral parlor, Frank Campbell’s, to transport the body to Philadelphia, to...” Joan was standing in the doorway, and she handed him a slip of paper. He read the name of the funeral home to Elton Hills.

“That’s fine, they’re reliable people. I’ll take it from there. You said in your message that you are Evan’s executor?”

“That’s correct. I’ll be glad to send you his letter appointing me and a copy of his will. He hand-delivered it to my office a few hours before his death.”

Hills gave him a fax number, and Stone handed it to Joan.

“You should have the fax in five minutes,” Stone said. “Please call me if you have any questions.”

“Does Evan owe you any money?”

“He gave me a retainer along with his will. That should cover everything. Please let me know if I can be of further help.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Hills said. “Thank you.” He hung up.

“How did he sound?” Bruce asked.

“Matter-of-fact. Not upset.”

“Evan said he was a pretty cold customer.”

“Are you going to Philadelphia?” Stone asked.

“I want to, but not if I’m unwelcome.”

Joan buzzed. “Mr. Elton Hills again.”

Stone picked up the phone. “Yes, Mr. Hills?”

“Who the hell is Bruce Willard?”

“He’s a retired army officer who lives in Washington. He was your son’s closest friend. He’s in my office now, and he’d like to come to Philadelphia for the funeral.”

“Why would he want to do that?”

“As I said, he was your son’s closest friend. Would you like his phone number?”

“Yes.”

Stone covered the phone. “Your number.”

Bruce gave him his cell number, and Stone gave it to Elton Hills. “May he expect to hear from you?”

“Let me speak to him.”

Stone handed the phone to Bruce. “He wants to talk.”

“Hello, Mr. Hills. This is Bruce Willard.” He listened, then made writing motions to Stone, who pushed over a pad and pen. “Yes, sir, I’ve got that. I’ll come on Sunday morning. Noon should be fine. Thank you, sir, and please accept my condolences. Evan was a fine man.” He handed the phone back to Stone. “He hung up.”

“He invited you?”

“To lunch on Sunday. He said the service would be at graveside and private, just him and me.”

“Perhaps you’d better take a copy of the Sunday Times with you. He said he didn’t hear much news. I’ll send him a fax, warning him that it’s coming.”