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—
Holly ca
lled Stone.
“Hello, there,” Stone said. “Am I hallucinating, or did we just talk moments ago?”
“You’re not hallucinating. Think you can put up with me for another little while?”
“Funny, I was just thinking about putting up with you. How long do I get to do that?”
“I might stretch it into a week, unless something terrible happens somewhere in the world.”
“Something terrible is always happening somewhere in the world.”
“I mean somewhere in the world that requires my attention.”
“That would be right here in this house.”
“You say the nicest things.”
“I do the nicest things, too.”
“And I will look forward to that.”
“Is your trip to do with our Ms. Keane?”
“Yes, but that’s only an excuse to come.”
“Any excuse will do,” Stone said. “Let yourself in whenever you arrive, and I’ll book a table somewhere sumptuous for dinner tomorrow evening.”
“I thought I was going to be dinner.”
“You are going to be a very rich dessert.”
Herbie Fisher and Harp O’Connor were having dinner in the back room at P.J. Clarke’s, a regular hangout for them since they had met there at the bar.
“Herb,” Harp said, “how come you set me up for that sweep at Jim Rutledge’s place, then pulled me off?”
“I’m sorry. Did I mess up your day?” He began to think about lying to her.
“Just answer my question.”
Herbie made up his mind. If he started lying to her about the little stuff, it would soon spread to bigger stuff. “Stone Barrington asked me to pull you off.”
Harp chewed in silence for a moment. “Do you know why?”
“No, I don’t,” Herbie replied.
“You didn’t ask?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I find that very peculiar.”
“It’s like this, baby: there are only two or three people in the world that I trust completely, and Stone is one of them.” He almost stopped there but caught himself. “You are another.”
“I know why you trust me, Herb, but why do you trust Stone?”
