“Is Dino going to spring for that?”
“No, you are. You’re richer than the NYPD.”
“So you want me to put my hard-earned money into the pocket of Strategic Services?”
“You didn’t earn a cent of it. It was an inheritance.”
“Nevertheless.”
“You can’t enjoy spending it if you’re dead.”
“You’re pointing out the obvious.”
“Somebody has to.”
“How much is that going to cost?”
“Whatever it costs.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“I’ll talk with Mike about that, and he’ll have them in place before you get home from work.”
“Oh, all right. Tell him to send at least one cute one.”
“I’ll mention it.”
“I have a big bed.”
“They’re not going to sleep with you. That’s another service entirely, and Strategic Services doesn’t provide it.” He left — before she could make any other suggestions — and called Mike Freeman.
“I’ve been expecting to hear from you,” Mike said.
“How many people is it going to take?” Stone asked.
“Well, I surveyed the house, once, for a party, and I still have the plans. I think what we have to do is seal off a couple of floors for Joan to live on. That will mean two on the stairs, above and below, and one on the elevator. We’ll also need two men in the garage and one on the roof. I assume we’re expecting some sort of attention from Eddie Jr.?”
“That’s a reasonable assumption.”
“Does the guy have any athletic abilities I should know about?”
“What sort of abilities?”
“Can he climb the sides of buildings?”
“He’s not Spider-Man.”
“Is he a dead shot?”
“Well, he’s shot two women dead. Does that count?”
“Then I guess either he hits what he aims at, or he just gets close enough.”
“I think that’s a good guess. Oh, he may have bought a Mercedes station wagon, metallic beige. It was in the garage for at least a few hours, so he probably has a remote for the garage doors.”
“We’ll replace it and give Joan and her staff new devices.”
“Oh,” Stone remembered. “The interior and exterior locks have all been replaced with Israeli hardware.”
“Then we’ll need those keys from Joan. We don’t have time to pick those things.”
“So I hear.”
“What else do you hear?”
“Eddie Sr. may have left some loose hardware, in the form of handguns, lying around. The police are searching the house now. They’ll probably find them.”
“Let’s not count on that,” Mike said. “We’ll do our own search.”
“And Joan is packing her trusty, rusty .45. She used it to take out a home invader in East Hampton and the police returned it to her.”
“I’ve read the file on that. It’s my guess that Joan is going to be her own greatest threat to both herself and us.”
“You can’t go wrong assuming that,” Stone agreed. “She has a history of not being afraid to shoot people who invade her space — or mine.”
“That’s both attractive and scary,” Mike said.
“Well put. Why don’t you have your chat with her here instead of at her house. She’ll be less likely to blow you away.”
“I’ll be right over,” Mike said. “Tell her it will be me ringing the bell and not to shoot.”
Forty-Seven
Mike Freeman sat in Stone’s office with Joan sitting next to him.
“That’s it,” Mike said. “And don’t worry, I’m giving you the family rate.”
“I’m not sure I can afford the family rate,” she said.
“Okay, I can just treat you like everybody else and double it.”
“I’ll take the family rate. When will I be safe?”
“When you get home from work, you’ll walk into a safe home.”
“I’ll be home at six.”
“We can do that.”
She handed him a clump of keys. “Those are the Israeli ones. They’re impossible to duplicate, so don’t lose any.”
“We can duplicate them,” Mike said.
“I paid all that money for keys that can’t be duplicated, unless you go to Israel, but you can duplicate them?”
“Let’s say that we have a little corner of Israel in our cellar, just for occasions like this.”
“Just don’t lose any.”
“Old money is cheap,” Stone said.
“I thought you were new money, Joan,” Mike said.
“She is,” Stone replied, “but her money is old.”
“Let me see your .45,” Mike said to her.
Joan reached under her skirt and produced the weapon.
“This is filthy,” Mike said, examining it.
“I haven’t sent the laundry out yet,” Joan replied.
“We’ll get you a cleaning kit and show you how to disassemble it.”
“I thought guns were self-cleaning.”
“You’ve been watching too many infomercials on TV. Guns aren’t like that. If you don’t take care of them, they can blow up in your face.”
“Bring me a cleaning kit,” Joan said, “and put it on my bill.”
“We’ll throw that in with the family rate.”
“Even better.”
Mike stood up. “Okay, I’m going over to your house and position my people.”
“Can I have my .45 back?”
“Not until we’ve cleaned it.”
“Will I recognize it?”
“Barely,” Mike said. He put the gun into his briefcase and left.
At five o’clock, Stone buzzed Joan.
“Yes, sir?”
“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
“I can get a cab.”
“I want to do the walk-through with you and see what Mike’s setup is.”
“But then you’ll know everything.”
“Come on, I promise to stay out of your underwear drawer.”
Fred drove them, and as he approached the house, the garage door opened, seemingly of its own volition. Mike was in the garage, talking to some of his people. He introduced them all to Joan, Stone, and Fred.
“Okay, let’s take the elevator up to the eighth floor,” Mike said. They rode up, and one of Mike’s people was in the car with them.
“What’s that guy doing in the elevator with us?” Joan whispered to Mike.
“He’s making sure there are no intruders on the elevator with us.”
“Is he armed?”
“All my people are armed.”
“Where’s my .45?”
They got off the elevator and Mike picked up her weapon, which was lying on the coffee table. He was about to show her how to disassemble it, but Joan fieldstripped it, worked the action, then reassembled it, reinserted the magazine, and pumped a round into the chamber. “Nice work,” she said, flipping on the safety.
Mike handed her a leather box. “And here is your cleaning kit. It should always be cleaned after it’s fired.”
“I can do that,” Joan said.
He handed her a small velvet box. “Open it,” he said.
Joan found a locket on a gold chain inside.
“I didn’t know you were so sentimental, Mike.”
“It’s an electronic device.”
“You mean like ‘I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up’?”
“Better than that. All you do is press it, then say whatever you like. ‘Intruder,’ for instance, or ‘fire in the kitchen.’ Like that.”
Joan pressed it and said, “I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up.”
“Perfect, but don’t use that line. My people will think you’re kidding.”
Joan tried again. “I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up. NO KIDDING!”
“That’s better. Pretty, isn’t it? We gave you the Cartier model. Wear it at all times.”