“I’ve seen him watching your ass,” Rosie said. “Believe me, he wants your body.”
“Rosie, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to shoot you, I swear to God!”
“You’re not going to have time to shoot me,” Rosie said.
“What?”
“There’s our boy.”
Ed Abney came out of his office building, wearing a tan raincoat and a black hat, and hurried up West Forty-fourth, hunching his shoulders against the rain. It was a little before seven.
“He’s headed for Sardi’s, I bet,” Rosie said.
“That’s the intel we’ve got on him. He’s old-school Broadway.”
Abney turned into the restaurant, and they could see him taking off his raincoat.
“Let’s go,” Viv said. She started the car and drove slowly to within a few yards of Sardi’s’ door, then she flipped down the sun visor, which had an official-looking card attached to it, reading Physician On Call.
The two women got out of the car and hurried into Sardi’s in time to see Abney walking up the steps to the upstairs bar. They checked their coats and followed.
“You got our story straight?” Viv asked.
“We’re two girls fresh off the farm who want to be on the stage, right?”
“I don’t know why I partner with you.”
They climbed the steps, then stopped, looking around. Abney was talking with the bartender. A headwaiter appeared and told the couple sitting next to him that their table was ready.
“Lucky so far,” Rosie said. They hurried to grab the seats.
Abney was served a martini as they sat down, and he took due notice of them. “Good evening, ladies,” he said, raising his glass. “Can I get you two a drink?” He was a little over six feet, heavyset with pale red hair and a smooth, pink complexion, maybe fifty.
“Thank you, I’ll have a Tom Collins,” said Rosie, who was sitting next to him.
Abney turned to the bartender. “Eddie, is there still such a thing as a Tom Collins in the world?”
“There is,” Eddie replied, then went to work.
“And you?” he said to Viv.
“I’ll have a vodka martini, straight up,” she said.
“Eddie? You heard that?”
“I did.”
“Only one of them is from the sticks.” Abney laughed at his own joke.
“We’re both from the sticks,” Viv said. “Cleveland.”
“Ah, Cleveland,” Abney said.
“Don’t say it like that,” Rosie said. “It’s not nice.”
“No insult intended,” Abney said. “I haven’t been there for twenty years. I stage-managed a national tour of Charley ’ s Aunt, and we played a week there.”
“Oh, you’re in show business?” Viv asked.
“My dear, you’re looking at the hottest press agent in the Big Apple.”
“Wow,” Rosie said without irony. “You must know a lot of show business people.”
“I’m afraid that, in my trade, I’m not able to avoid that.” He was listening to Rosie, but he was looking at Viv. “I’m Ed,” he said.
“This is Rosie, and I’m Viv.”
“Short for Vivian?”
“You’re psychic.”
Abney laughed. “I like you,” he said.
“Then let’s switch seats,” Rosie said, hopping off her stool. Viv moved over and gave her a glare when her back was turned to Abney.
“Anybody hungry?” Abney asked.
“I’ve got a date,” Rosie said, “but Viv is free.”
“Rosie!”
“Viv, I know an excellent French restaurant over on the East Side, and my car is waiting outside.”
“What’s wrong with eating here?” Viv asked.
“The food isn’t so hot,” Abney said. “Trust me on this.”
Rosie tossed off her drink and got off her stool. “I gotta run,” she said. “You two kids have a good time.” She kissed Viv on the cheek and whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll be right behind you.” She stopped, took off the alarm wristwatch, and handed it to Viv. “Thanks for the loan of your watch. I’d have been late!”
Viv buckled the watch onto her wrist.
“Another martini before we go?” Abney asked.
“Not on your life. One’s my limit before dinner. It’s nice that you’ve got a car-it’s nasty out tonight.”
“Well, let’s get started with the evening,” Abney said. He signed their check, and they went downstairs and got their coats.
“Right this way,” Abney said, opening the door for her.
A black Lincoln sat idling at the curb, and a driver in a black raincoat opened the door for them.
“Antoine’s, please, Ricardo,” Abney said, resting his hand on Viv’s knee.
Her impulse was to break his wrist, but Viv sat still for it.
45
Rosie was at the wheel of the squad car, staying a little back from the black Lincoln, when the radio on the seat beside her came alive. “Viv? It’s Bacchetti.”
She picked it up. “It’s Rosie, Lieutenant. Abney went for Viv, no surprise.”
“Where is she?”
“In a chauffeured town car just ahead of me, going to a restaurant called Antoine’s.”
“Restaurant? That wasn’t part of the deal!”
“I guess our man feels that he owes a girl a good dinner before molesting her.”
“She won’t be safe.”
“Relax, boss, it’s a public restaurant.”
“I want you inside, where you can see them.”
“I can’t do that. He already knows what I look like, and I told him I had a date when I left Sardi’s.”
“Then you’ll be on them when they leave for the apartment.”
“I will, boss, don’t worry.”
Viv walked into Antoine’s with Abney and looked around. It must be good, she thought, because it’s packed. “Looks like we’re not going to get a table,” she said.
“Not to worry,” Abney said, as a headwaiter approached.
“Good evening, Mr. Abney,” the man said. “Your usual table is ready upstairs.”
Abney took Viv’s arm and steered her toward the stairs. “It’s nicer up there,” he said.
“I need the ladies’ room,” Viv said, not sure what to do.
“There’s one upstairs.”
At the top of the stairs they turned left, and she could see a room ahead. They walked into it, and it seemed to be a comfortable sitting room. Their table had been set at the center, and behind it was a large sofa. Uh-oh, she thought. “And where is the ladies’?”
“Just over there,” Abney said, pointing at a door.
Viv let herself into the powder room and locked the door behind her. She fished her cell phone out of her bag and pressed the speed dial button for Rosie’s phone. Nothing happened. “No signal,” Viv muttered to herself. She stood on the toilet. Still no signal. No part of the small room would produce one. Well, she thought, she still had the panic button on her wristwatch. She peed, flushed the toilet, then looked at herself in the mirror.
“You dead in there?” Abney shouted.
Viv opened the door. Abney had opened a bottle of champagne and was holding out a flute to her.
“To new friends,” Abney said. He sipped from his glass, then leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
Viv tried not to flinch. “I’m starved,” she said. She reached for her cell phone. “Mind if I make a quick call?”
“It won’t work here,” Abney said. “Antoine has the place electronically blocked. He hates cell phones.”
“Well, I guess that makes for a quieter dinner,” she said, wondering if it would block the panic button, too.
“Have a seat,” Abney said. “I’ve already ordered for us.”
“How nice of you,” Viv said as he pushed her chair under her.
Dinner was three courses, and it was good. Abney kept filling her champagne glass.
“So, Viv, what brings you to the big city?”
“Just a vacation,” she replied. “A friend of mine lent me her very nice apartment while she’s on a European vacation.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It is. I’ll give you a nightcap there when we’ve finished dinner.”
“Maybe,” Abney replied.
She had thought that he would jump at the opportunity. Maybe this was going nowhere.
They finished dessert, and Viv began to wonder if she had drunk too much. “You have a heavy hand with the champagne,” she managed to say, but she slurred her words.