AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Which part of my recitation of the facts do you attribute to my imagination?”
“You said you ‘called it in.’ How?”
“Well, we didn’t want to get put on hold, so my friend, Dino, called the police directly.”
“Does he have some sort of personal influence with the NYPD?”
“You might say that. He’s the police commissioner of New York City.”
“Did you imagine that, too?”
“Tell you what. When you get home, turn on your computer and google the NYPD, and see if the commissioner’s name isn’t Dino Bacchetti.”
“What will happen if I google you?”
“I’ve no idea. I’ve never googled myself.”
“That shows a refreshing lack of self-involvement.”
“You’ve seen my badge,” Stone said. “Here’s my business card. Anything else I can do for you?”
“Not on this occasion,” she said, handing him her own card. “But we can discuss that another time, if you’d like to call me.”
“What are your office hours?”
“Nine to five, unless there’s a major flap on.”
Stone tucked away the card. “All right, but you must promise, after you’ve researched me as thoroughly as you like, to always believe everything I say. Nobody likes to be called a liar.”
“We’ll see,” she said. The cab came to a halt at her house.
“In that case, I won’t call you,” Stone said. “You can call me, if you like. Good evening.”
“Would you like to take the shortcut from my back door across the gardens?”
“Thank you, yes.” He got out of the cab and followed her to her door, where she stood aside and pointed.
“That way,” she said.
“Thank you. And again, good evening.” He departed through the back door, walked across the gardens, and let himself into his kitchen. Before he closed the door, he gave her a little wave, and she waved back.
—
Stone undressed and got into bed. As he did, the phone rang. “Stone Barrington,” he said.
“Is this the Stone Barrington with the vivid imagination?” she asked.
“No, this is Stone Barrington, the honest man. What can I do for you?”
“Please accept my apology and call me as soon as you like.”
“As you wish.Bonne nuit.” He hung up and switched on the TV.
FORTY-FIVE
As the TV came up, Stone saw a familiar edifice, but it took him a moment to place it. Annetta Charles’s house, now Joan’s. He turned up the sound. “...found dead in the living room of the mansion, near where a previous murder occurred. The woman was a housemaid, hired only a few days ago. Police said the murder had been perpetrated on a lower floor of the mansion, then the body was moved upstairs to the living room, where the butler discovered it as he was turning off the lights for the night. She was Eastern European and was in this country on a temporary visa.”
Stone’s phone rang. “Yes?”
