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“He should have talked to you,” Stone said. “You probably know a dozen cops who would take that contract.”
“No, I got rid of those sorts of cops early in my reign.”
“Yourreign? You think they look upon you as a king?”
“They’d fucking well better, unless they want to serve out their twenty years in uniform in the nether reaches of the Bronx.”
The maître d’ caught Stone’s eye and motioned him toward the back room, where he had a good table for them. They ordered steaks, as usual, and a decent bottle of red.
“Did you find a murder weapon in the Charles case?” Stone asked Dino.
“Funny you should mention that,” Dino said. “No, as it happens.”
“Has Eddie Jr. got a firearm registered in his name?”
“You don’t think we would have checked?”
“Can I take that as a no?”
“Yes,” Dino replied.
“What was the weapon?”
“A .38.”
“Did you get a good slug out of Annetta?”
“Yeah, we did.”
“Did you search Eddie’s digs?”
“At the Yale Club? Of course.”
“How about at the Athletic Club?”
“Damn it, we only searched the one.”
“Well, he’s been sleeping on and off at both.”
“Well, shit,” Dino said, getting out his phone and delivering some terse instructions about a search warrant.
THIRTY-TWO
Stone came down to his office the following morning with a word from the crossword still on his mind. He looked around for hisConcise Oxford English Dictionarybut couldn’t find it. Normally, it was within reach of his chair.
He buzzed Joan.
“Yes, boss?”
“Have you borrowed myConcise Oxford?”
“Is that the small one?”
“Yes.”
“No, but you’ve got all twenty volumes of the big one right there.”
“Every time I pick up one of those volumes, I pull a muscle.”
