“I thought that’s what you were doing with the late Mrs. Charles. Did you know that people referred to her, earlier in her career, as ‘Apple Annie’?”
“Yes, but I don’t know why.”
“Because everybody had a bite of her.”
“And delicious it must have been,” Stone said. “She still looked terrific at sixty, and she was still eager.”
“I thought she was, maybe, forty. And how do you know she was still eager?”
“Because she had my zipper down in a flash, and I had to cite the legal ethics code to get out of there before she could do whatever it was she was going to do to me.”
“How did you manage to get out?”
“I rezipped and fled the premises with a cheerful, over-the-shoulder wave. It was the last I saw of her.”
“It was the last anybody saw of her.”
“Don’t point that thing at me. If I could get out of there unseen, then somebody could have gotten in there unseen.”
“A fair point for a shyster lawyer but not for a homicide detective.”
“Casey wouldn’t know a fair point if it reared up and bit him on the ass.” Stone snorted. “And who are you calling a shyster?”
Dino looked around. “Who else is here?”
“There are half a dozen lawyers in the room. Which of them are you impugning?”
“I could throw a dart blindfolded and hit one.”
“Let’s order before I use a steak knife on you,” Stone said. He waved down a waiter and ordered another round and two steaks.
Dino sliced and bit into his, talking around it. “Okay, who inherits? Junior?”
“Nope. Annetta had carved him out of her will. And neither of them had any other kids.”
“Who, then? The ASPCA?”
“They didn’t even own a dog or a cat.”
“So, who’s going to get Ed Charles’s ill-gotten gains?”
“My secretary.”
“Joan? How did she manage that?”
“Annetta was Joan’s mother’s younger sister: her aunt.”
“How much?”
“Just between you, me, and the bar association, north of a hundred million. A lot more if we can find it.”
“Holy shit!”
“That’s approximately what Joan is going to say. She typed up the will, but I withheld that part from her and typed it myself.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“Because I didn’t want her mooning about, dreaming of how, someday, she would be a rich woman. It would have interfered with her work, and, anyway, who knew it was going to be so soon?”
“What did you mean there’s more, if you can find it?”
“Let’s just say that Ed Charles’s relationship with the Internal Revenue Service was, well, distant. Oh, I’m sure he has an upright accounting firm that, each year, produces a plausible tax return. But there are rumors of an offshore bank account and, locally, an oversized safety-deposit box, crammed with cash.”
“And where did all this cash come from? Was he stealing from his investors?”
“I don’t think Ed had any investors that he didn’t invent out of thin air. A private investment company makes a wonderful money laundry, wouldn’t you think?”
“I would think,” Dino replied.
“I hear that Ed was banking three bookies and taking his vigorish in cash.”
“What are you going to do when the Feds come sniffing around?”
“Absolutely nothing. I don’t have anything to give them. They’ll have heard the rumors I’ve heard, but I’m not in a position to substantiate them. After all, I’ve only been his estate’s attorney for less than a week, and Annetta is no longer in a position to confide in me. The Feds will turn up with a search warrant right quick, and I’m not going to get in their way. My guess is that Ed was clever enough to conceal his assets, but he didn’t do it on my watch or on my advice. I’m clean, and I’m going to remain clean. It’s the Woodman & Weld way.”
“And what are you going to do, if you find some of Ed’s money?”
“What money?” Stone asked. “I don’t know anything about any money.”
Thirteen
When Stone got downstairs to his office the following morning, he had to make his own coffee because Joan was nowhere to be found. He checked his watch: she was always on time. “What the hell?”
The phone rang, and since Joan was not there to screen the calls, curiosity required him to answer it. “Stone Barrington.”
“Hey, Stone, it’s Eddie Jr.”
“Why are you calling me, Junior?” Stone asked. “You’re not supposed to.”
“Well, this is a special occasion,” Junior said, “and don’t call me Junior.”
“What do you want?”
“I just woke up and turned on the TV, and it said that my stepmother is dead.”
“I can confirm that bit of news. Where are you, Eddie?”
“In East Hampton. I’ve been here for two days.”
“And you just heard about Annetta?”
“I haven’t been watching TV, and Annetta doesn’t get the papers delivered out here. I didn’t kill her. Did you kill her?”
“Certainly not,” Stone replied. “Funny you should ask. The police want to ask you that same question.”
“Me? I’m in the Hamptons. How could I kill her?”
“Well, there are some holes in your alibi, Eddie.”
“What holes?”
“First of all, you said ‘I didn’t kill her,’ ” Stone said. “That’s not an alibi, that’s a contention.”
“Okay, number two: I’m in East Hampton.”
“Prove it.”
“How do I do that?”
“Is anyone with you?”
“No, I’m alone.”
“Has anybody seen you there? A maid, maybe?”
“No.”
“Well, you’d better get to work thinking of some way to prove you weren’t in New York, in her house yesterday afternoon.”
“I told you, I was in East Hampton. I still am.”
“Be sure and mention that to your lawyer, when he comes to bail you out.”
“You seem to think I’m going to be arrested,” Eddie said plaintively.
“I’d say you’re the prime suspect unless you can come up with a plausible alibi.”
“You’re my lawyer, Stone. You think of a way I can do that.”
“For the umpteenth time, Eddie, I am not your lawyer. I’m your stepmother’s lawyer.”
“Can’t I inherit you from her?”
“That was not mentioned in her will,” Stone replied.
“Speaking of her will, I get the money now, right?”
“Wrong, Eddie. She specifically excluded you as an heir.”
“She can’t do that after she’s dead, can she?”
“She did it when she was alive and kicking,” Stone replied. “You’d better get yourself a lawyer, get back to the city, and convince the police you had nothing to do with her death.”
“How do I do that?”
“I thought I just explained it. First, you have to be innocent. Second, you’d better have an alibi to back up your claim of being in East Hampton. Maybe you’d better write that down. Goodbye, Eddie, and good luck staying out of prison for the rest of your life.” Stone hung up. The phone began to ring again, but this time Joan answered it. She must have arrived. His intercom buzzed. “Yes?”
“Eddie Jr. on one for you. What shall I tell him?”
“As W. C. Fields once memorably said, ‘Tell him to go fuck himself.’ I’m sorry I don’t do a better W. C. Fields impression.”
“Who’s W. C. Fields?”
“You’re old enough to know. Eddie is going to ask you how to get himself a lawyer.”
“Who should I recommend?”
“First of all, don’t recommend Herbie Fisher. He’d never forgive either of us — and he might actually get Eddie off. And if he does, the phone will never stop ringing.”