Menus appeared and everyone pored over them. Eventually, decisions were made, and the captain took their orders. Thad lingered over the wine list. “Who’s drinking red?” he asked. Everyone’s hand went up. “Ah, good. We’ll start with a magnum of the Opus One,” he said to the sommelier. “The ‘eighty-nine.”
The sommelier scurried away and returned with the big bottle. Thad tasted it. “Marvelous! Go ahead and pour us a glass so it can breathe.”
“I like your friends,” Dino said to Stone, getting a laugh.
“Ah, Dino,” Thad said, “you have to spend more time in Palm Beach. The yacht is yours whenever you want it.”
“Nobody ever said that to me before,” Dino said, drawing another laugh.
Stone thought the evening was going particularly well. Then he looked up and saw Frank and Margaret Wilkes come into the restaurant, followed closely by a woman Stone did not know, and then, by Paul Bartlett. No one else at the table had seen them, but Stone caught Dino’s eye and nodded in their direction.
Dino watched the tall man hold a chair for his companion, then sit down. “I would never have made him as Manning,” Dino whispered. “He must have done something to his face.”
Stone slipped the little cell phone off his belt, cupped it in his hand to hide it as well as possible, and dialed Dan Griggs’s direct office number, which also rang at his home.
“Yes?” Griggs said.
“Dan, it’s Stone. I’m at La Reserve, and Bartlett is here with Frank Wilkes and his wife and another woman.”
“Have you talked to Lundquist?” Griggs asked.
“No.”
“The Minneapolis department arrested a known car thief and insurance scam artist who, for immunity, told them Bartlett had hired him to fix his wife’s seat belt. Apparently, they met in prison, during Bartlett’s earlier existence, and he’ll testify against Bartlett. Have they just sat down to eat?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll get ahold of Lundquist and put some people together, and we’ll take him when they leave. I don’t want to cause a scene in the restaurant. Let me give you my portable number.”
Stone wrote it down.
“Call that number when they get their check. That way I won’t have to send people in to watch him. He’s pretty edgy; he might catch on to that.”
“I’ll do it,” Stone said. “I imagine you have a good hour and a half.”
“See you later.”
Stone put the phone away and saw Thad looking at him inquiringly. “It’s nothing,” he said.
Their dinner arrived, and everyone ate heartily, still in high spirits from the champagne. They had just finished their dessert, and their dishes were being taken away, when Stone looked up to see Lieutenant Ebbe Lundquist enter the restaurant, flash his badge at the maitre d‘ and take up a position at the bar. Stone looked at Bartlett. He had seen the badge and was now staring at Lundquist, who in his plaid polyester suit looked out of place in the elegant restaurant.
Stone glanced at Dino, who had already taken this in.
“That’s one really stupid cop,” Dino said quietly.
Stone looked over at Bartlett’s table and saw the waiter approaching with the check. “Excuse me a minute,” Stone said to the table. “I’ll be right back.”
He rose and made his way across the restaurant to where the Wilkeses and Bartlett were sitting.
Frank Wilkes rose to greet him. “Stone,” he said, “how good to see you.”
Stone shook his hand as Bartlett, too, rose, buttoning his jacket.
“Hello, Stone,” he said. “How are you?” He introduced his companion.
“How do you do? Good evening, Paul. Please sit down.” Stone caught sight of the bulge under Bartlett’s jacket.
“Frank, Margaret, I just wanted to thank you for such a delightful dinner the other evening,” Stone said. “It was very kind of you to ask Callie and me.”
“We were very glad to have you,” Margaret Wilkes said, “and we hope you’ll come again.”
Stone caught sight of Lundquist moving down the bar.
“I see you’re about to leave,” Stone said to Wilkes. “Please let me send over some after-dinner drinks before you go.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but summoned a nearby waiter and told him to bring the Wilkes party whatever they wanted and to send the bill to him. That would keep them in their seats for another few minutes, Stone thought. He made his goodbyes and, instead of returning to his table, walked toward the front of the restaurant and the men’s room, dialing Dan Griggs’s cell phone number on the way. He caught Dino’s eye and patted his side, where Bartlett was wearing the gun. As he passed the bar, he caught Lundquist’s eye, frowned and shook his head, whispering loudly, “Stay where you are.”
He pressed the send button on the phone as he turned a corner, out of sight of Bartlett. Griggs answered immediately.
“It’s Stone. I’ve bought them an after-dinner drink, so they’ll be a few minutes.”
“Okay.”
“But listen. I think Bartlett is armed, and he’s already seen Lundquist flash his badge. Why did you let him come in here?”
“I didn’t. He just ignored me and walked in before I could stop him. I feel like arresting him.”
“I’m going back to my table. When they leave you’d better take Bartlett quickly, before he gets to his car, and you’d better be ready to disarm him. He’s packing on the left side, at his belt.”
“Got it. Are you armed?”
“No, but Dino is. Don’t worry, he won’t do anything stupid.”
“Okay, just go back to your table, and we’ll handle it.”
“I’m on my way.” Stone punched off the phone and put it away. He stepped back into the dining room, and as he did, he was horrified to see Lundquist moving toward Bartlett’s table. He looked back at his own group, and Dino was suddenly on his feet, making his way across the room and unbuttoning his jacket. Then everything seemed to slow down.
Bartlett turned to see Lundquist coming toward him and began to rise. Lundquist, who didn’t know Bartlett was armed, had his hands at his sides, empty. Bartlett unbuttoned his jacket as he rose, and his right hand went inside it to his belt.
Stone saw his hand close around the butt of the pistol. He turned toward Dino and yelled, “Gun!” Dino stopped in his tracks, perhaps a dozen feet from the Wilkeses’ table.
Bartlett never saw Dino; his attention was riveted on Lundquist, who now began to understand what was happening and went for his own gun. Four shots came in rapid succession.
Lundquist left his feet, the gun flying from his hand and knocking over a wine bottle on a nearby table. A woman at that table screamed as Dino fired. Bartlett was hit in his left upper arm, then a second time in the side of his neck, falling backward and out of sight, knocking over his chair.
Dino began running toward the table, his gun out in front of him, yelling, “Police, Police!”
Stone began running, too.
34
Pandemonium. A mass of diners abandoned their tables and rushed for the main entrance, knocking over chairs and elaborate flower arrangements. Women were screaming, and men were shouting at them.
Stone was swept sideways toward the door. In front of him a woman fell, and Stone grabbed her and yanked her to her feet before she could be trampled in the rush. He could see Dino at the Wilkeses’ table, standing over Bartlett, who was out of sight on the floor behind the table. Dino was still pointing the gun.
He looked toward the front door and saw three uniformed Palm Beach police officers, one of them Dan Griggs, vainly trying to fight their way through the onrushing crowd. Stone grabbed a post next to the bar and hung on for dear life. Finally, when most of the crowd had fled the restaurant, he was able to make his way through the stragglers to Dino, who was now bending over Bartlett, feeling at his throat for a pulse.
Frank and Margaret Wilkes stood huddled against the wall, Frank cradling his sobbing wife’s head on his shoulder. Margaret was spattered with blood. Bartlett’s date was nowhere in sight.