Page 44 of Black Dog


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“Wonderful, I’ll send you a few cards for distribution to anyone you meet who wants to know anything about the kid.”

“Okay, so where is he?”

“Why do you think I know? Give me one shred of evidence of that.”

“Only a shred?”

“A shred will do nicely.”

“You’re his fucking trustee.”

“That does not meet the legal standard of ‘shred.’ It only means that, occasionally, he might call me and ask for more money. I say no, then I hang up. It’s a brief conversation. I live in the hope that, one day soon, he will get the picture and stop calling.”

“Do you ever get mail from him?”

“Well, last week he sent me his dry-cleaning bill, which was returned, marked ‘Addressee unknown.’ Such is the extent of our postal communication. Tell you what: I’ll forward all his mail to you.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you are an intensely suspicious person who cannot abide the truth, even when it rises up and bites you on the ass.”

“Give me just a hint on how to find him.”

“Okay, take the A train to Harlem—with apologies to DukeEllington—get off, have a look around the station, then take it back to Grand Central, and do the same.”

“It would save us both a lot of time if you would just give me some information about Junior,” Dino said.

“Okay, I’ll save you a lot of time: if ever again you call me with reference to the aforementioned Black Dog, I will unceremoniously hang up on you. Use your free time well.” Stone hung up to demonstrate his intention. He buzzed Joan.

“Yes, sir?”

“From now on, should Dino phone me, question him on his reason for calling. If any reference is made to Eddie Jr., hang up on him.”

“What if he calls back?”

“Same drill.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

“Hey, how did your housecleaning go?”

“Goodwill was stunned by what was delivered to them. I suggested they hold an auction. The feather boas alone will bring in thousands.”

“Annetta actually wore feather boas?”

“She did. Don’t get me started on her thongs.”

“So, are you in residence now?”

“I will be by dinnertime.”

“Dinner all alone? Awww.”

“Don’t worry, I inherited an excellent cook, who has already been warned that if I gain so much as a pound, she will be taken out and shot.”

“That should ensure you many terrible meals.”

“Maybe, but I won’t gain a pound.”

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