Sex, Lies & Serious Money

55

Butch spent his day thinking about his night. So much so that a couple of his coworkers mentioned his absentmindedness. He tried to concentrate on his customers, and that worked, to an extent. He checked the movie schedules for a third time.

For lunch, he ate a sandwich in the stockroom, still going over and over what he was going to do. He tried to think what could go wrong, but he was sure it would go right. The only thing to fear was the unexpected.

He brought home some hot food for dinner and saw his next-door neighbor, a middle-aged woman called Nan, as he entered his apartment; that was good luck. He turned on the TV and made it pretty loud; she had complained about it before. He watched a TV program until six-thirty, then got out of the building without encountering anyone and took a cab to the movie theater on Sixty-sixth Street near Second Avenue. He bought a ticket for the seven PM showing, and concentrated as hard as he could on the film and its plot. It helped that it was one he had been looking forward to seeing.

At the film’s finish he walked around the block, then got in line and bought a ticket for the nine PM showing. Then he had a magnificent stroke of good luck: he met a woman who worked at the store who was also in line and had a brief chat with her. He went into the theater and sneaked out as soon as the feature began.

He got another cab home and waited across the street to be sure the lobby of his building was empty, then he went upstairs and let himself into his apartment. He undressed, put on pajamas and a robe, went next door and rang the bell.

“Who is it?” Nan asked through the door.

“It’s Butch from next door.”

She apparently took a moment to confirm that through the peephole, then opened the door. “Good evening, Butch.”

“Hi, Nan. I was expecting a delivery this evening, and it didn’t come. I thought they might have left it with you.”

“No, I didn’t have any callers this evening.”

He managed a yawn. “Thanks, Nan. I’m sorry to disturb you. Guess I’ll be off to bed. Oh, by the way, I saw a very good film tonight.” He gave a brief account of the picture. “I think you might enjoy it.”

“Thank you, Butch, perhaps I’ll go.” She closed the door.

He went back to the apartment, switched off all the lights, then he got dressed. He looked in his closet for something to wear and found an old plastic raincoat that he’d forgotten to throw away when he moved in. He set that on a chair within easy reach, then sat down on the living room sofa and went over it all again in his mind.

Stone took Holly to Patroon for dinner, where she was treated as an old friend.

“I love this place,” she said as they settled into a booth. “Is this your new Elaine’s?”

“I’m afraid not. There is no Elaine’s without Elaine, and she’s gone. The restaurant was like her living room, where she welcomed friends to a party every night. That’s how she stayed in business for forty-eight years. She liked you, and she didn’t like all that many women.”

“I liked her, too, and I’m flattered she liked me. How’d you meet her?”

“Back when I was walking a beat, I started stopping in there late for dinner, and we got along. I wasn’t exactly one of her regulars, and I ate at the bar. After I’d been going in there for a couple of years, she’d give me a table, and after I made detective I could afford to go more often.”

“Dino, too?”

“Yep, but he had his own list of favorite places, when pretty much all I had was Elaine’s.”

The owner, Ken Aretsky, stopped by their table. “No Dino and Viv tonight?”

“We’re going to be spending a few days with them in Santa Fe, leaving tomorrow. I bought a house there.”

“Another house? You’ll be like Ted Turner soon. He has, what, ten places?”

“God save me from that fate,” Stone said. “Joan can barely keep up with what I’ve got now. I did sell Connecticut, though.”

“That was brave of you.” Ken continued on his rounds.

Stone turned his attention back to Holly. “How long are you going to stay in your job?”

“Until Kate fires me.”

“She’ll never do that, but White House people tend to burn out after a couple of years. Hardly any of them seem to make it into their president’s second term.”

“I never got tired of working at the Agency,” she said, “and I was there a lot longer than Kate’s two terms will last, if she gets reelected.”

“Are you concerned about whether she will?”

“No, she loves the job, and Will is in charge of keeping her political bridges intact. He’s a big help with Congress, too; he has so many old friends there.”

“I thought he was Babysitter in Chief these days.”

“He likes people to think that, but he has two nannies to back him up, so he’s either on the phone or consulting with Kate most of his days. He sometimes works in the study off the Oval Office, so she can pop in between appointments in the Oval and talk over the meeting she’s just had. It’s a great system for both of them. And every time I’m out of the office for a day, they ask if I’ve seen you, thinking I’ve come to New York.”

“I’d like it if that could happen more often,” he said.

“I’d like that, too, but there are few opportunities. Kate had to practically run me out of the White House to get me to come up here.”

“I’m looking forward to having you with me in Santa Fe,” he said.

“I’m looking forward to it, too, but I haven’t gotten to the point where I can stop thinking about what’s going on in the White House. When I get back, I’m going to need some pretty extensive briefings on what happened while I was gone. And I know Kate has walled me off, but it bothers the hell out of me that no one is calling for advice on how to handle some problem or other.”

“They’re ignoring you?”

“Yes, and it’s really annoying that I’m not as indispensable as I thought.”

“When we get to Santa Fe you’ll discover a lot to keep your mind off Washington.”

“What will I discover?”

“A whole new kind of town. It’s nothing like anywhere else I’ve ever been.”

“Well, I’ll admit, that sounds intriguing.”

“My worst nightmare is that you’ll get there and immediately want to go back to Washington.”

“I don’t think that’s an option. Kate would have the Secret Service turn me away at the gate. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d already canceled my White House pass.”