“Paul got the black 750i, with the V-twelve engine. I’ve got another one on the lot. I could put you in it inside the hour. Why don’t you take a test drive?”
“Oh, I’d just be wasting your time. I’m a couple of weeks away from buying. I just wanted to have a look. Say, where is Paul staying, do you know? He was at the Chesterfield, but he’s checked out.”
“He’s at the Colony. I sent the paperwork over there yesterday afternoon.”
“Oh, yes, the Colony. Say, I don’t mean to cause you any concern, but how did Paul pay for the car?”
“He gave me a cashier’s check on a local bank.” He suddenly looked concerned. “Why? Do you think something might be wrong?”
“Not if he gave you a cashier’s check,” Stone said. “Thanks for your time.” He walked out of the showroom, put up his umbrella and ran back to his car, avoiding the deeper puddles. Well, he thought, Mr. Bartlett has lied about his residence and his car. He is obviously now watching his back. Stone sat in the car and called the Minneapolis police department.
“Ebbe Lundquist, in homicide,” he said to the operator.
“Homicide,” a man’s voice said.
“Ebbe Lundquist, please.”
“Lieutenant Lundquist is out of the office for a few days.”
“Might he have gone to Florida?”
“That’s right. Can someone else help you?”
“No, thanks,” Stone said. He broke the connection and called Dan Griggs.
“Hello?”
“Morning, Dan, it’s Stone Barrington. I believe you talked to a Lieutenant Lundquist yesterday?”
“Right.”
“I think he’s on the way down here.”
“He must have found out something that got him moving,” Griggs said.
“I think he wants to talk to Paul Bartlett,” Stone said. “I’ve learned that Bartlett didn’t buy a Bentley but a black BMW 750i. Also, he’s moved into the Colony Hotel. I think Lundquist might appreciate it if you put a man on him. He seems to be getting slippery.”
“I can do that.”
“Tell him not to crowd the guy. Our friend Mr. Bartlett is getting nervous, and we wouldn’t want him to bail out before Lundquist has a crack at him.”
“I’ll tell my man to work wide. Thanks, Stone.”
“And I’d appreciate a call if there are any developments.”
“Sure. You learn anything about that protocol ten-oh-two thing?”
“I talked to my old partner in New York. His guess is that Bartlett is, or rather was, in the Justice Department’s witness protection program, and that he jumped ship and set up a new identity on his own.”
“That’s an interesting theory,” Griggs said. “Has he got anything to back it up?”
“No, it’s just his hunch, but I think it’s a good one. By the way, he’s coming down here soon, and I’d like for you to meet him. His name is Dino Bacchetti, and he commands the detective squad at the Nineteenth Precinct.”
“Love to greet him,” Griggs said.
“I’ll bring him by. Take care.” Stone hung up. He pulled into traffic and headed back toward the yacht, and his cell phone rang again.
“Hello?”
“It’s me,” Dino said.
Stone could hear a police siren in the background. “Let me guess; you’re on the way to the airport.”
“That’s right,” Dino said. “My flight arrives at two-thirty.” He gave Stone the flight number.
“I’ll meet you. Dino, you’ve got to stop driving around with the siren on. A trip to the airport is not exactly an emergency call.”
“It is if I say it is,” Dino replied. “Traffic is hell on the FDR Drive right now.”
“And the siren helps.”
“You bet your ass it does. How’s the weather down there?”
“Gorgeous,” Stone said, peering through the driving rain at the road ahead, which was barely visible. “I hope you’re bringing a swimsuit.”
“Damn right I am; my golf clubs, too.”
“Great. How about a tennis racket?”
“You know I’m a lousy tennis player.”
“You’re a lousy golfer, too, but you’re bringing your clubs.”
“If that sonofabitch doesn’t get the fuck out of the way, ram him!” Dino shouted, apparently at his driver.
“Have you got another rookie detective at the wheel?”
“So what if I have?”
“Give the kid a break, Dino. He can’t drive over the traffic.”
“My flight leaves in twenty minutes.”
“So what? You’re not going through the airport; you’re going to flash your badge and drive out onto the tarmac, right up to the airplane, aren’t you?”
“You bet your ass, but I’ve still got to move to make it.”
“So call the airline and tell them it’s a police emergency, to hold the flight.”
“Jesus, why didn’t I think of that? Get off the phone!”
“I’ll see you at Palm Beach Airport,” Stone said, and pressed the end button. He laughed aloud at the thought of Dino holding the flight for a police emergency, then arriving at the airplane carrying his golf clubs.
He called the yacht, and Carrie answered.
“Hi. Where are you?”
“On the way back from the Rolls dealer.”
“Find out anything?”
“I’ll tell you later. Have you heard a weather forecast for tomorrow?”
“Rain ends late tonight; sunny all day tomorrow.”
“Thank God. Dino’s arriving this afternoon, with golf clubs. He’d shoot me if he couldn’t play. Can you find us some golf somewhere?”
“Sure. I’ll book a tee time at the Breakers. Ten o’clock okay?”
“Perfect. Dino’s bringing his own clubs. I’ll need to rent some.”
“You can use Thad’s; he won’t mind.”
“Do you play?”
“I’ve got a twelve handicap. What’s yours?”
“We’ll make it a threesome, then,” Stone said, avoiding an answer.
“Well,” she said, laughing, “I’m glad you’re interested in some kind of threesome.”
27
Stone drove to the airport, and the rain had still not let up. At times he was driving through three and four inches of water in the street, and the wind had started to get up, as well. At the airport, he parked at the curb and ran inside, and the hell with tickets.
He found Dino in baggage claim, just getting his golf clubs off the carousel.
“You didn’t tell me it was hurricane season,” Dino grumbled, handing Stone two bags and hoisting the clubs onto a shoulder. “I should have brought fucking scuba gear!”
“Oh, I just wanted you to see that Palm Beach is a city of contrasts,” Stone said, running for the car and getting soaked while stowing the bags in the trunk. The golf clubs had to go in the backseat. Finally, they were under way, with the windshield wipers trying hard to keep up with the deluge, and losing.
“I’m soaked to the skin!” Dino complained. “You might as well put the top down!”
“I don’t understand it,” Stone said. “The weather was glorious, until you decided to come.”
“Oh, right, I brought the weather with me; it’s all my fault.”
“Thank you for pointing that out. So, how are things at home?”
“Oh, just great. Dolce is out.”
Stone nearly wrecked the car. “What do you mean, 'out'?“
“Out. She set a fire in her room, which set off the alarm, and while her nurses were preoccupied with that, she got out of the house, took one of Eduardo’s cars and vanished into the world.”
“When did this happen?”
“This morning, apparently. Mary Ann called me on my pocket phone just as I was getting on the airplane. Eduardo is going nuts.”
“She won’t get far. Eduardo will have her back in no time. What, is she running around in her nightgown?”
“She packed three bags, according to the housekeeper, who counted the luggage. I’d say she has clothes for any occasion. Dolce is nothing if not organized.”
“But she doesn’t have any money or credit cards; she can’t travel.”
“Dolce has money of her own, you know, and quite a lot of it. Eduardo settled two million bucks on each of the girls when they turned twenty-one. And she took her purse, too-credit cards, even her passport. There’s nowhere you can run.”