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“It looks like a giant anthill,” Stone said. “I’ve never seen so many workmen on a site.”

“We’ve got three construction companies working two shifts,” Mike said. “Nobody is going to believe how quickly this hotel is going to open.”

“Where is Arrington’s house going to be?” Stone asked.

“Follow me,” Mike said, and led the way into the house, which was being enlarged to serve as the reception area and main restaurant. They walked down the central hallway and into the back garden, then around the swimming pool, to where a building was being framed.

“Here we are,” Mike said.

They walked through the rooms on plywood subflooring. The sound of electric hammers and saws was everywhere.

“This is good,” Stone said. In the original deal he had negotiated for Arrington to have her own house on the property. “It’s not as big as the old house, but it’s plenty big.”

“It’s your house now,” Mike said. “And Peter’s.”

“And yours, Mike, and yours, too, Dino, whenever you’re out here.”

“Free?” Dino asked, amazed.

“You can pay your own room service bill,” Stone said.

“That’s a pretty good deal,” Dino said, laughing. “How many bedrooms?”

“Four bedrooms, six baths, and two powder rooms, plus two staff rooms. Also, living room, dining room, kitchen, and a very nice study/library.”

“Are you going to let them rent it when you’re not here?” Mike asked.

“Maybe. It’s arranged so that the master suite can be locked off from paying guests.”

“That will help with the cash flow,” Mike pointed out. He found the architect and the construction foreman, and they began answering questions.

Later, they checked into a three-bedroom cottage at the Bel-Air Hotel.

“What did you think about how things are going?” Stone asked Mike.

“I was impressed,” Mike said. “Everything is on schedule. Frankly, I hadn’t expected that.”

There was a large bowl of fruit on the entrance hall table, and a note addressed to Stone, from the manager. He read it aloud to Mike and Dino. “The Bel-Air welcomes the competition,” it said. “We’ll do our best to show you how it’s done.”

Everybody had a good laugh.

On the living room coffee table was a large flower arrangement, with an envelope. Stone picked it up and handed it to Dino. “It’s addressed to you.”

“It can’t be,” Dino said. “Nobody knows I’m here.”

“Nevertheless, it has your name on it,” Stone replied.

Dino took the envelope and opened it. His face fell.

“What?” Stone asked.

Dino handed him the note inside.

Stone read it: “I hope you had a good trip,” it said. “See you when you return.” It was signed, simply, “S.”

“Uh-oh,” Stone said.

“Yeah,” Dino agreed.

“What is it?” Mike asked.

“Nothing much,” Stone replied, “just a note from a serial killer of Dino’s acquaintance.”

24

The following morning they visited the building site again and talked more with the architect and construction foremen, then they drove back to Burbank Airport and boarded the G-550. They were back at Teterboro in time for Stone and Dino to make the opening of Marla’s new show.

AT THE final curtain Stone and Dino stood and beat their hands together and cheered, along with the rest of the audience. Marla and Rita took their bows, and finally, the curtain fell again.

They strolled through Shubert Alley over to Sardi’s and were seated at a large round table, which gradually began to fill up. Marla and Rita arrived looking freshly scrubbed and excited.

“It was wonderful,” Stone said.

“Do you really think so?”

“Everybody in the house thought so, and the critics will, too. You’re looking at a long run.”

Dino turned to Rita. “Am I ever going to see you again?”

“I get one night off every week,” she said.

The party continued past midnight, then somebody arrived with a stack of newspapers, and the producer stood on his chair and read the reviews aloud, to appreciative applause from the crowd.

Stone looked around the room and saw someone familiar. He turned to Dino. “Hey, remember our final dinner at Elaine’s, when a tall redhead clocked some not-so-innocent bystander?”

Dino looked tense. “Yeah. Why?”

“Because I just caught a glimpse of her over there somewhere,” Stone replied, pointing.

“Oh, shit,” Dino said.

“What’s wrong?”

“That’s Shelley.”

“Who’s Shelley?” Rita asked.

“Somebody Dino doesn’t want to meet,” Stone said.

“Why not?” she asked.

“There was some unpleasantness a while back.”

“What kind of unpleasantness?”

“Rita,” Dino said, “let it go. Please.”

“Well, I guess I know what you’ll be doing when it’s not my night off,” she said, digging him in the ribs.

“I will be bereft,” Dino said. “I promise.”

“Well, if it’s a promise, I guess ‘bereft’ is appropriate.”

Stone turned to Marla. “I hope you have more than one night a week off.”

“I’ll see the next couple of performances and give some notes, but then I’ll have to let go and just let it run. Then I’ll have plenty of nights off.”

“I’ll start thinking of ways to use them,” Stone said.

Dino excused himself and started across the room in the direction Stone had pointed.

“Uh-oh,” Rita said. “Is there going to be trouble?”

“I doubt it,” Stone replied. “Don’t worry, Dino can handle it.”

“He can always call in a SWAT team,” Rita said.

Dino made his way through the crowd while the reviews continued to be read. She was tall, so he kept his eyes riveted on the tops of heads. Then he spotted the red hair moving away from him. He pursued, but unless he used his elbows, the crowd kept him from gaining. The redhead pushed through a pair of swinging doors. Dino finally got there and found himself in the kitchen.

“Can I help you, sir?” a waiter asked in an unhelpful way.

“I’ll be out of your way in a minute,” Dino said. He walked slowly through the busy kitchen, dodging waiters and men with knives, but he didn’t see her. Finally he came to the rear door and stepped out into an alley, which contained only garbage cans, lit by the lights from West Forty-fourth Street. He walked all the way down to the street and looked both ways. He thought he saw red hair in the back of a taxi, but then it was gone.

Dino went into Sardi’s by the front door and made his way back to the table. The two women were headed toward the ladies’ room.

“Any luck?” Stone asked.

Dino shook his head. “She went through the kitchen and out into the alley, then she was gone.”

“You’re going to have to do something about this, you know.”

“I know,” Dino replied. “I just don’t know what.”

The women returned from the ladies’ room.

“It’s getting late,” Stone said to Marla. “Come home with me?”

“Oh, I’m exhausted,” Marla replied. “Just completely drained.”

“Dinner tomorrow?”

“Let me call you after I’ve seen the show again a couple of times.”

Stone sighed. “All right.”

She put her hand on his cheek and kissed him. “Just be patient for a little while.”

25

Shelley got into a cab. “Carlyle Hotel,” she said to the driver. She didn’t look over her shoulder. Dino would be back there somewhere, and she wasn’t ready to see him face-to-face again. The circumstances would have to be more favorable.

Shelley got out of the cab and walked into the Carlyle, then turned left into the bar. She could use a drink. She settled on a stool, ordered a cognac, and listened to the jazz trio, who filled the room with sound.

She had been there maybe five minutes when a man came into the bar and took a seat two down from her. He took off his hat and laid it on the bar, and she froze. She knew him; he was FBI. Bob something-or-other. He was assigned to the New York field office, and he had driven her around New York once, when she was on an official visit from Washington.