“I think I know who you mean,” Bozo replied. “Huff was probably working for him when he got himself plugged last night. He’s looking for better help, and that’s me.”
“How much do you want me to tell him?”
“Tell him whatever you’ve got. Don’t lie to him because he might have somebody else running another check. I’ll be suitably grateful to you for a positive recommendation.”
“Okay. I’ll report in and leave the ‘suitably grateful’ to you, as long as you treat me right.”
“You can rely on me for that,” Bozo said.
The two men hung up.
Chapter 12
Stone took longer to fully recover from his blow to the head than he had imagined he would. After three days of being dizzy and unsteady on his feet, he called the doctor, who told him to stay off his feet for the rest of the week, unless he used a cane or a walker. Stone flinched at the mention of those two implements. He was also told not to go out for dinner or any other reason.
“It’s this way, Stone,” the doctor said. “If you start strolling around too soon, you’ll fall down. And a fall could do more damage than the blackjack did. Just be a happy invalid until you’re steady again.”
Stone found that his libido suffered, too. Or, rather, Matilda discovered that fact. “You’ve gone off me,” she said, when he failed to salute on demand.
“No, no, no,” Stone said quickly. “I’ve gone off my rocker, but it is only temporarily. I had a talk with my doctor today, and he told me to stay off my feet.”
“What about your back? Are you to stay off that, too?”
“I’m not supposed to exert myself, and you are a walking, talking exertion.” He wiped sweat from his forehead. “You see this? It’s not hot in here, but I’m sweating from the effort of just chatting.”
“You want me to leave you alone, then?”
“No. You could give me a back rub, though.”
“I was a masseuse in my extreme youth,” she said.
“There’s a table in my dressing room.” He pointed.
Soon she was kneading away.
“Not my neck,” he said. “That’s still too sore.”
“Turn over on your back,” she said, half an hour later.
Stone managed to get flipped, but he held a pillow over his crotch.
“What’s the matter, is it cold?” she asked.
“It’s cool, and I want it to stay that way. I’ll owe you.”
“You’re going to get so deeply in debt, you’ll never get out from under,” she said, pinching a nipple.
“You stay away from what a friend of mine used to call, ‘the erroneous zones.’ ”
She laughed. “Oh, all right. I’ll wait until you’re fully recovered, then look out!”
“I’ll look forward,” he said.
Dino called in the late afternoon. “Dinner at Clarke’s?”
“No, I’m under doctor’s orders not to go out. He’s afraid I’ll fall down and hurt myself.”
“That’s always a consideration when you drink that 100 proof bourbon you like so much.”
“Come over here for dinner, and bring Viv.”
“All right, see you then.”
Joe Rouche called Trench Molder.
“What have you got for me?” Trench asked.
“Nothing too alarming. Thomas David Bozeman, thirty-two years old, very physically fit — not unusual, given his work. A couple of arrests, one of them for clocking a woman in a restaurant, the other for winning a bar fight. He’s thought, by those who know him best, to be reliable and a pretty good guy. The athletic club promoted him to Huff’s job, and they wouldn’t have done that if he hadn’t been okay. Their members don’t like trash working there. There’s been some grumbling about Huff’s use of the blackjack, and Bozo won’t have that. Generally speaking, he does what he says he’ll do, so he’s viewed as trustworthy by those who know him.”
“Okay,” Trench said, “good to know. My man will send you a check.” He hung up and looked at his calendar. Too soon for another shot at Barrington, he thought. He would wait until the memory of Huff’s blackjack faded.
Viv held Stone’s chin in her hands and looked into his eyes. “You’re not well,” she said. “Not yet.”
“Funny, that’s what the doctor says, too, and it’s why we’re dining in.”
He started to rise, but she pushed him back into the sofa. “I’ll get the drinks. You just sit there and look pretty.”
“Whatever you say,” Stone replied.
Dino looked at him closely, too. “She’s right,” he said.
“She usually is,” Stone agreed. “Look, I’m taking her advice.”
“That’s a smart move. Otherwise, she’ll beat you up.”
Chapter 13
Stone nodded off over brandy and had to be taken upstairs by Dino, using the elevator. There he delivered Stone to the tender mercies of Matilda, who got him into a nightshirt, his favorite mode of dress at bedtime when he wasn’t naked for a good reason.
Matilda slept next to him, checking his inert form every time she rolled over. He was always the same.
Stone woke, rested and clearheaded for the first time since suffering the blow. Matilda was nowhere to be found. He had breakfast in bed, read the Times, and did the crossword. Finally, he got to his feet and walked around without falling down or bumping into anything. He shaved and took a shower without either cutting his throat or slipping on the wet tiles. Finally, he got dressed and walked downstairs to his office, just as if he were perfectly well.
“You look perfectly well,” Joan said, when she came to inspect him.
“Thank you, that’s exactly how I feel, just don’t hit me over the head with anything.”
“I’ll try to avoid that.” His phone rang, and Joan answered it at his desk. “Surprise,” she said, “Dino on one.”
Stone picked up. “Good morning.”
“You sound — I don’t know, normal,” Dino said.
“And that’s how I feel.”
“Dinner tonight, Clarke’s?”
“See you then. Viv?”
“Maybe. Matilda?”
“Maybe. I haven’t seen her this morning.”
“Whatever.” Dino hung up.
“Matilda went back to her place,” Joan said. “She didn’t say why or for how long.”
“Perhaps I’ve been inattentive,” Stone said.
“Perhaps.” The phone rang. Stone picked it up before Joan could. “Hello?”
“You sound normal,” Matilda said.
“I am normal,” he replied.
“I’m doing laundry.”
“You could have done it here.”
“I needed fresh clothes. You were getting tired of the ones I was wearing.”
“Your imagination,” he said. “Dinner tonight at Clarke’s?”
“Where we met! How romantic!”
“Shall I pick you up?”
“I’ll meet you there. I’ve got a previous engagement with Bloomie’s.”
“I wouldn’t want to come between you two. Seven?”
“Good.” Everybody hung up.
“Well,” Joan said, “I guess you’re officially normal.”
They assembled in the bar at P. J. Clarke’s, had a drink, then went to their table.
“Did you notice the man in the blue blazer a couple of seats down the bar from me?” Matilda asked.
“I didn’t,” Stone replied.
“I did,” Viv said. “Who is he?”
“I don’t know his real name, but he’s called Bozo. He worked at that athletic club for Huff, whom you will recall.”
“Actually, I recall nothing about Huff. First, he was standing behind me. After that, he was dead, and I was unconscious.”