“God, I’ll drink to that!” She took a big sip from her martini. “That is breathtaking!”

“Are you settling down yet after your ordeal?”

“I am. I’m going back to work on Monday.”

“Tuesday. Monday’s a holiday.”

“Right, so I get another day off. What will I do with myself?”

“Hang around here, why don’t you? We can . . .”

“Fuck our brains out all weekend?”

“Good idea!” He opened the desk drawer, took out a key, and handed it to her. “You can come and go as you please.”

“I don’t suppose I’ll need a change of clothes.”

Stone smiled. “As far as I’m concerned, you won’t need clothes at all.”

“A naked weekend,” she said, smiling. “I like it.”

“We can cook for each other.”

“You cook?”

“Not as well as you, but I dabble.”

“I suppose I’ll have to put clothes on to go up to Grace’s Market.”

“Yes, unless you want a ride home in a police car.”

“On my way, I’ll pick up something more casual. I haven’t been shopping for way too long.”

“As you wish.”

They settled into the sofa and sipped their drinks.

“How have your spent your time off?” Stone asked.

“Mostly just vegging and watching old movies on TV.”

“What did you watch?”

“Singin’ in the Rain, Gone with the Wind, The Best Years of Our Lives.”

“All favorites of mine, too. My son is a moviemaker. Did I tell you?”

“No. What’s he done?”

“A little independent called Autumn Kill that cost nothing to make and earned sixty-something million, worldwide.”

“Wow, he must be very good.”

“He certainly is. He has a deal at Centurion Studios, and he’s out there now, completing his second film.”

They nattered on for an hour and had a second drink.

• • •

Dino was working late when he got a phone call from the lead detective on the Bats Buono murder. “What’s happening, kid? Any luck on nabbing Marty Parese?”

“’Fraid not, Chief. Apparently, he took a powder when we raided the chop shop. Nobody will admit laying eyes on him. We’re running down some leads, though.”

“Anything new on the girl? Hank?”

“Not a thing. Her only involvement is as a victim, far as I can tell.”

“Okay, keep me posted.” Dino hung up and called Stone.

• • •

“Excuse me,” Stone said to Hank, picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hiya, pal.”

“Hey, Dino.”

“Just wanted to give you an update. We haven’t been able to find Marty Parese. He blew after the raid on the chop shop.”

“Oh, well,” Stone said.

“Better news—Hank is no longer considered a suspect.”

“That is good news. She’s here now, we’re having a drink and going to the Four Seasons. You and Viv want to join us?”

“Can’t do it—we’re both working late. Tomorrow night? We’ll drink some of your booze.”

“Sure.”

“We’ll let ourselves in.”

“See you then.”

They both hung up.

“How’s Dino?” Hank asked.

“He’s good, and he had a couple of pieces of news: they’ve been looking for a guy named Marty Parese, who was Buono’s partner, but no luck. Apparently, he made himself scarce after the raid on the chop shop.”

“Oh, yeah, I met him once. Onofrio introduced us in a restaurant.”

“The good news: you’re no longer a suspect.”

“That’s a relief, I guess. I’d better let Herb Fisher know.”

“You ready for some dinner?”

“I’m starving. I’ve never been to the Four Seasons.”

“It will be my pleasure to introduce you.”

Stone let them out the front door. “You saw how to arm the system going out. This is how you disarm it when you come in.” He showed her the six-digit code, then rearmed the system and locked the door behind them. They cabbed it the few blocks to the restaurant and were soon seated at a poolside table in the main dining room.

• • •

An hour and a half later, Hank dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “That was just wonderful,” she said.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I have to go to the little girls’ room.”

“It’s on the way out. I’ll show you.” Stone signed the check, then led her downstairs. “I’ll get a cab and wait for you outside.”

Hank disappeared into the ladies’ room, and Stone asked the doorman for a cab. Nearly ten minutes passed before he found one, and Hank was just coming out the door.

• • •

Minutes later, Stone let them into the house, and after he had rearmed the system, they took the elevator upstairs.

They made love for half an hour or so, then collapsed in each other’s arms. Sometime in the night, Stone rolled over and was surprised to find her side of the bed empty, but she returned from the direction of her bathroom and crawled back in with him.

Still later, Stone was half wakened by what sounded like an electronic beep, but then he drifted off to sleep again.

• • •

In the morning, Helene sent up a big breakfast on the dumbwaiter, along with the morning papers, and they dawdled in bed. Halfway through the morning, the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Stone, it’s Bill Eggers. I’m doing some work on the Arrington account, and I can’t find the year-to-date statement. Have you got a copy?”

“Sure, Bill. I’ll go downstairs and fax it to you.”

“Thanks. See you later.”

Stone got out of bed and put on some pants, a shirt, and a pair of slippers.

“Going somewhere?”

“I just have to run down to my office and fax a document to my law partner, Bill Eggers. He’s doing some weekend work.”

“Don’t be long,” she said.

• • •

As Stone approached his office door, he heard the sound of machinery running and wondered if Joan was doing some weekend work, too. He opened the door and saw some sort of business machine on his desk and realized it was counting and sorting money. Joan must have found a machine after all.

Then something solid struck him on the back of the neck. He didn’t remember falling to the floor.

51

Stone smelled leather, and he couldn’t understand why. There was a murmur of voices from somewhere and the fluttery sound of a machine running. He opened his eyes and found himself facedown on his office sofa; his hands were chained behind him and his feet clamped together. He had a headache centered at the base of his skull, and he was having trouble thinking clearly.

He decided not to move for a while, just to listen and get oriented.

The machine stopped, and there was the sound of something tapping from the direction of his desk. He turned his head sideways so that he could see. There was a strange man seated at his desk; he was removing stacks of bills from the machine, tapping them on the desktop to square them, then banding them and arranging them in a suitcase that lay open beside the desk, while reading numbers from the machine and noting them on a yellow legal pad. Then he heard a voice he hadn’t expected to hear.

“How long do you think this will take?” Hank asked.

Stone moved his chin down enough to allow himself a view of the other side of the desk. Hank was removing a double-handful of money from one of the leaf bags, squaring batches of the bills, then stacking them into the machine. That done, she switched it on, and it began separating and sorting the tens and twenties.

“Shit,” the man said, “even with the machine, it’s going to take us all day, at least.”

“I guess there’s no faster way to do this,” she said.

“Not unless we had a couple more counter-sorters and more people to help, and we sure as hell don’t want more people in on this.”

“No,” she said, “we don’t.”

Stone saw her begin to look his way and closed his eyes.

“He’s still out,” Hank said. “How hard did you hit him?” Her tone was one of idle curiosity, not of concern.

“Jeez, I don’t know. Hard enough to put him down and out, but not hard enough to kill him, I hope. We may need him at some point.”