Shakeup

20

Holly snuck out of the house at four in the afternoon, and he slept for a couple of hours. He had dinner off a tray in his lap and watched TV. Lara’s series came on, and he watched it for the first time. She was wonderful, he thought.

The butler had just cleared away his tray when his phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Eggers. I’m done here. You about ready to head east, say, tomorrow?”

“Sure. Wheels up at nine.”

“Will you be alone?”

Stone thought about that. “Undetermined,” he said. “You’ll find out when you’re aboard.”

“See you at eight-forty-five,” Bill said, then hung up. Stone thought for a moment, then he called Lara.

“What a surprise!” she said.

“When do you start shooting Peter’s film?” he asked.

“We start rehearsing, let’s see, six days from now.”

“How would you like to spend those days in New York with me?”

“What a good idea!”

“I’ll send a car for you at seven-thirty tomorrow morning,” he said, “and I’ll meet you at the Burbank airport.”

“That’s just grand.”

“Make a note: the tail number is November One, Two, Three Tango Foxtrot — N123 TF. You’ll need that at the gate for access to the ramp. Wheels up at nine. That means be aboard at eight-forty-five.”

“Got it. See you there.”

“Oh, there’ll be one other person aboard, besides the crew: my law partner, Bill Eggers. You’ll like each other.”

“Fine.”

They hung up, and Stone arranged transportation for himself and Lara. Then called Faith and gave her her marching orders. He got a very good night’s sleep.

They departed on time, and Eggers and Lara did most of the talking. The cockpit buzzed Stone’s intercom. “Yes?”

“Dino for you on the satphone,” Faith said.

Stone picked up the handset. “You got the time right for once,” he said.

“I’m a timely guy. You hear about Art Jacoby’s girlfriend?”

“Yes, I spoke to him yesterday.”

“Now Art has disappeared.”

“Define ‘disappeared.’”

“Nobody that I know can find him.”

“I think that was his plan, after what happened to his girl.”

“Well, he did a damn good job of it.”

“Have you looked down the hall?”

“In his office here?”

“It’s worth a try, and it’s not a long walk.”

“I’ll call you back.” They both hung up.

After a few minutes Dino called back. “Art’s in his office, appears to be working.”

“Glad to be of help,” Stone said. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“Dinner tonight?”

“There’ll be a girl, name of Lara Parks.”

“Good. Viv is back from wherever the hell she was. Patroon at seven?”

“You’re on.” They hung up again.

“Everything okay?” Lara asked.

“We’re having dinner with my friends, Dino and Vivian Bacchetti at seven,” he said.

“How will I be dressed?”

“I will be wearing a suit and necktie. You will have to figure out the rest.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’m sure you’ll do it very well.”

Eggers interrupted. “We closed the deal with Edgar Wheelis,” he said.

“Then I did my job.”

“Yep. The good news is I can’t think of a reason ever to meet with him again.”

Stone thought he’d better call Joan; he tapped the number into the satphone.

“Yes, sir?”

“I’ll be in later this afternoon, with a guest.”

“I’ll tell Helene to expunge all traces of any previous visitors.”

“Good idea. Did you get the bail money back?”

“It’s in the bank,” she said. “Somebody called here asking for Art Jacoby. I did my ‘who’s that?’ routine, and it seems to have worked.”

“He’s in New York. If he should call and need a bed, send him to a hotel, maybe the Lowell.”

“Will do. You will rest undisturbed.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re very welcome, sir.”

“Oh, and please book us a table for four at seven, at Patroon.”

“Certainly.” They both hung up.

Eggers moved across the aisle, so that he could work unimpeded, and opened his briefcase.

Lara moved next to Stone. “This is a lovely airplane,” she said, taking his hand. “It’s a Gulfstream, isn’t it?”

“It is. A G-500.”

“I saw the seating plan, and there are two beds in the back cabin, aren’t there?” She squeezed his hand.

“I think we should wait until we’re home to have that transaction. We wouldn’t want to shock Bill Eggers.”

“He doesn’t look all that shockable.”

“He’s not, really, but he’s a terrible gossip. I’d hear about it every time I visit the Woodman & Weld offices.”

“Don’t you work there?”

“I work mostly from my home office, but I go to the law offices for meetings and such.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to damage your reputation.”

“The gossip would likely improve my reputation, but I don’t want to hear about it from the people at the main office.”

“I’ll try and contain myself until we get home, then. By the way, where is home?”

“It’s in one square block of Manhattan townhouses, built around a garden, and it’s called Turtle Bay.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s in an area that used to be a bay, before it got filled in and built on a long time ago.”

“Is there a bed?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Oh, good.”