“I wasn’t aware that I had such a reputation,” Stone replied, though he was.
“Do you appreciate directness in a woman?” she asked.
He placed a hand on her hand, to stop its progress. “To an extent,” he said. “Within the limitations of the code of ethics of the New York State Bar Association.”
“Does the bar association look down on intimacy?”
“It discourages too much intimacy between attorney and client and bans carnal relationships.”
“Carnal,” she said, licking her lips. “Such an attractive word. Do you think we could overlook their rule for, say, an afternoon?”
“Not until we have fundamentally changed the nature of our current relationship.”
“Then what can we do?”
“Anything that I can explain to my board of partners at Woodman & Weld without blushing.”
“Lie to them,” she said, reaching for his zipper.
“I find lying to be a bad practice,” Stone said, “that becomes worse with time.”
“Well, why don’t you just sit there and contemplate the rules, while I take a tour of your body. And at least one part of it appears to be growing.”
“How could it not,” Stone asked, “in such inviting circumstances?” He rezipped. “But I think I should keep it in check, in our present circumstances.”
“You appear to be trying to get yourself fired,” she said.
“That would be unfortunate for both of us,” Stone replied. “I would lose a valued client, and you would lose the best legal representation available.”
“Oh?” She squeezed.
Stone played his final card. “And you would have to deal with Eddie Jr. again.”
Her face fell, and she pushed away from him on the sofa. “I won’t ask how he’s doing, because I don’t want to know.”
“I think that’s wise,” Stone said.
She stood up and brushed away imaginary wrinkles on her skirt. “Well, thank you for coming, Stone. Please continue to keep me in the dark about Junior.”
“Certainly,” Stone said, shaking her hand. “And good afternoon to you.”
He made his way out of the living room and down in the elevator without encountering either the maid or the butler. He left the Charles residence and got into the car, breaking a light sweat in his haste. He rode downtown trying to make his breathing regular and his thoughts somewhere other than Annetta Charles’s sofa. He reflected that Dino was right. He had been too long without a woman, and resisting Annetta’s advances had been difficult to do.
Ten
Stone got back to his office and poured himself a Knob Creek, something he did not often do when alone in the afternoon. His breathing had returned to normal. Joan seemed to be elsewhere.
He sat down and his thoughts were irresistibly drawn to what might have happened on Annetta’s sofa if he had not managed to preserve his virtue. He was able to put her aside when he remembered that Joan had warned him that Annetta was sixty, not forty. He reflected that he had never had carnal relations with someone so much older than he, not that he was opposed to the idea, in principle. He had the very strong feeling that if he had followed her down the garden path that she would, after that, have had more influence on his actions than he wished her to have. There was a noise and he jumped, spilling some of his drink on his desk.
“I’m sorry to have startled you,” Joan said. “I was doing some filing in the back room and didn’t hear you come in.”
“That’s quite all right.” Here she comes, he thought.
“So, how did you and Annetta get along?”
“Passably,” he said. “When I brought up the subject of Eddie Jr. she remembered that she had something else to do.”
“What was she wearing?” Joan asked.
“A tweed suit with... What kind of a question is that?”
“Street clothes or, ah, something more comfortable?”
“What are you getting at, Joan?”
“I’m just wondering what Aunt Annetta might have been getting at.”
“What?”
“She has a reputation for getting at things with dispatch.”
“I wasn’t there long enough to find out.”
“I read the files of the Charleses while you were gone.”
“And...?”
“And I found them illuminating, but not surprising.”
“Which parts did you find illuminating?”
“The parts about Edwin’s sources of income and Aunt Annetta’s, ah, career path. Nothing about Eddie Jr. would be illuminating or surprise me.”
“And you think Annetta’s ‘career path’ might have affected her behavior today?”
“I read somewhere once — maybe Kinsey — that the chief reason that prostitutes chose their trade was, not money, but because they enjoyed the sex.”
“I have little experience of prostitutes, so I can’t argue with that. But it sounds like something written by a man, not a woman.”
Joan laughed. “It does, doesn’t it?” The phone rang and she answered it. “Woodman & Weld, the Barrington Practice.” She listened for a moment, then held out the phone to Stone. “It’s Annetta’s butler. He wants to speak to you, and he sounds odd.”
“Odd how?”
“Ask him.”
“This is Stone Barrington. Yes, Geoffrey, what is it?” He listened for a moment. “Now calm down, Geoffrey. There are some things you have to do. Please listen to me. First of all, you must note the time, then call 911 and tell them you want to report a death. Then you must tell the staff to stay out of the upstairs sitting room, and neither you nor they must touch anything in the room. Do you understand?” He listened. “Please tell that to the police when they arrive. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He hung up and got into his jacket.
“That sounded alarming,” Joan said.
“It was alarming. Geoffrey says that a staff member found Annetta dead, apparently of a gunshot.”
“Damn it. Did the butler do it?”
“That remains to be seen.”
“You should call Dino,” Joan said.
“I’ll call him on the way. Get Fred saddled up.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “Please note that the call came in about 3:40 pm.”
Stone hurried for the garage. As soon as they were on their way, Stone called Dino.
“Bacchetti.”
“It’s Stone. Do you remember Annetta Charles?”
“Yeah, she’s the widow of Edwin Charles, and she’s your new client.”
“Not anymore. I just had a call from her butler, saying that she’s dead, apparent gunshot wound.”
“Did you call 911?”
“I instructed him to. Will you see that a reliable detective gets assigned to this? One who won’t screw everything up?”
“I’m afraid you’ll catch whoever is hanging around the precinct. My own order.”
“Swell. Now I’ll have to deal with one of those sorry timeservers that are rife on your police force.”
“You? Why do you have to deal with anybody?”
“I may have been the last person to see her alive.”
“Really.”
“Except for her killer, of course.”
“Of course,” Dino said. “Good luck, pal.” He hung up.
Eleven
Fred found an actual, legal parking spot a couple of doors from the Charles mansion. Also parked out front were two police cars: a cruiser with its lights flashing and an unmarked sedan with a police shield on the sun visor. Stone walked up the front steps, reached into his pocket, and withdrew the wallet that contained his police shield, getting it ready to display.
A cop stood at the door, ready to stop anyone who tried to enter. Stone showed him the badge. “I want to talk to the detective in charge.”