“Clearly, you have never dealt with the State Department, and I resent your suggestion that Pablo might violate our agreement.”
“That is not his intention, Lance, as I’m sure it was not your intention to have Pablo and his family inconvenienced in this manner. I hope we can sort this out to prevent any dissension among us.”
“Well, I’ll be happy to phone someone at Foggy Bottom, but I can’t make any promises.”
“I’m sure when your contact there learns of the great value of Pablo to national security, he will see the light.”
“May I have the numbers of the passports, please?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary, Lance: we both know your contact will have those at the tap of a keyboard.”
“Perhaps,” Lance said. “We’ll see. I don’t know if he’ll still be in his office at this hour, but I’ll leave a message if he isn’t, and I’m sure he’ll get back to me in due course.”
“I would think that you would be able to reach him now, just as I was able to reach you, and he will be able to instruct the proper person to remove this obstacle before the weekend.”
“Where is Pablo at this moment, Stone?”
“I don’t know, Lance. He has visited me here, but most of our communication has been telephonic. He could be anywhere.”
“I hope he doesn’t have it in his mind to scamper; perhaps you should relay to him the difficulties such an action could visit upon him.”
“Lance, you’ve recently kidnapped the man from his home, snatched him off a highway in Spain and forced him to enter the U.S. illegally, without proper extradition, and then threatened him with torture. I don’t think there’s anything I can tell Pablo about your methods that he doesn’t already know.”
“I hope you’re not going to be difficult about this, Stone. I’m beginning to feel just the tiniest bit stressed by your client’s wavering.”
“Lance, it is within your power to resolve this matter within hours, if not minutes, thereby restoring your monkish state of serenity. We will look upon your immediate actions for a sign of your good faith.”
“Once again, Stone, I must point out that if this has anything to do with the IRS, that’s beyond my purview.”
“I’m sorry, Lance, but I forgot to mention in our previous conversations that Pablo resolved all issues with the IRS years ago and we have in our possession a letter from that agency’s director confirming that, as far as it is concerned, Pablo has been, since that time, an upstanding citizen. All that remains is for you to straighten out the State Department, so that we may independently confirm that the flags have been lifted and will not be reinstated.”
There was a brief silence. “I’ll get back to you,” Lance said, then hung up.
Stone called Pablo. “I’ve spoken to Mr. C. and he has agreed to call his contact with the State Department. He’ll get back to us.”
“God, I hope so,” Pablo said.
“It’s important, Pablo, that you take no action in response to this matter. Are we clear about that?”
“All right,” Pablo said, then hung up.
Stone rested his forehead on the cool, glass top of his desk and whimpered.
THIRTY-THREE
Stone arrived at Elaine’s to find Woodman & Weld’s managing partner already seated with Dino and already drinking.
“Evening, Bill, Dino,” Stone said as he slid into a chair only slightly behind the Knob Creek that had been placed on the table.
“Evening, Stone,” Eggers said.
Stone looked at Bill for signs of pleasure or displeasure, but he wore his usual, very effective poker face.
“Anybody hungry?” Stone asked, picking up a menu.
“Sure,” Dino replied.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Eggers said.
“Well,” Stone said, “I hope your digestion improves quickly, because I’m starved.” He wasn’t about to ask if something was troubling Eggers.
Eggers fingered the menu, then set it down. “I have heard a rumor, Stone, that you may somehow be connected with a Mercedes automobile that somehow found its way into a Rye swimming pool.”
Stone looked at him askance. “You think I’ve been running around Westchester County, driving expensive automobiles into swimming pools? I assure you, my Mercedes is cozily tucked into my garage at home and has not been out for days.”
“I saw something about that on TV,” Dino said innocently.
“There’s all sorts of strange stuff on TV these days,” Stone replied. “Probably some reality show gone wrong.”
“I’ve heard it was a different kind of show gone wrong,” Eggers said. “And I’m concerned that my firm’s putative next partner might be associated with such a stunt. Dr. Holland, owner of the pool in question, is a client of the firm, and he is not as amused as everyone else in the country to find a large chunk of twisted steel in his pool. He is having to remove extensive plantings in his garden in order to get a crane in position to hoist the thing onto a flatbed truck, and there are questions as to whether his insurance covers falling German hardware.”
“Bill, please tell me exactly what you have heard about my alleged connection to this event and from whom you have heard it.”
“I have told you all I can.”
“Then I will have to decline to comment on apparently baseless charges and rumors promulgated by anonymous individuals.”
“It was Lance Cabot,” Eggers said.
“Ah, then you must know that, in the extremely unlikely event I had any connection whatever to this weird occurrence, my relationship with Lance’s employer would prevent me from either confirming or denying such an allegation, and Lance must know that, too.”
“All right, Stone,” Eggers said, “take a moment to muster all your lawyerly command of the language to craft a statement that will place you at a sufficient distance from my client’s perfectly understandable curiosity about the origins of this event, something I can repeat to him.”
Stone thought for a moment. “All right, you may quote me as saying that I have not now nor have I ever caused an automobile to fly through the air and into your client’s swimming pool, nor have I had any opportunity to prevent such a happening. And, when you have finished telling your client that, you may tell Lance Cabot, in the nicest possible way, to go fuck himself. If I should see Lance before you do, I’ll tell him myself.”
“I’ll have the spaghetti carbonara,” Eggers said to the hovering waiter.
“Make that two,” Dino said.
“I’ll have Barry’s secret strip steak, medium rare, with fries and haricots verts,” Stone said. “And bring us a bottle of the Mondavi Cabernet that you are always out of.”
“We’re out of that,” the waiter replied.
“Then make it the Phelps Cabernet.”
“We’ve got that,” the waiter replied, then departed.
“So, Stone,” Eggers said, “what beautiful woman are you seeing these days?”
“The last beautiful woman I was seeing was murdered in her own home not very long ago,” Stone said, “and my desire to see another has not yet overcome that circumstance.”
“Murdered by whom?” Eggers asked.
“Ask Dino; he’s the cop at the table.”
“Dino?”
“My money’s on her nephew or his girlfriend or both,” Dino said.
“You have any evidence to back that up?” Stone asked.
“They were the last two people to arrive for the dinner party, and the nephew had access to the building through his aunt and could have entered the back hall from inside the building, taped the door latch, and later let himself in to perform the killing, then out again.”