When Barton reached home, he got the mail from his mailbox and let himself into the house. He made a fire in the study, poured himself a drink and sat down to warm up. In his mind he riffled through his client list, most of them wealthy people, but he could not come up with one who would have both the cash and the commitment to collecting that would be required to bring the deal off. Harlan Deal, for instance, certainly had the money, but not the taste or sophistication to appreciate the value of the collection, let alone the commitment to a museum.
He began opening his mail. Halfway through the stack he came across an engraved envelope; inside was a dinner invitation for Saturday night from Ab Kramer.
Perhaps, he thought, he might know the right man after all.
54
Stone sat at his desk, going over the bank statements, broker- age statements and credit card statements of Henry Kennerly, jotting down notes and amounts as he went. It took him more than two hours to complete the job and total the amounts and categories. When he was done, he called Tatiana.
“Hello?”
“It’s Stone. How is the cleanup going?”
“I’ve got a professional crew, and they’ve promised to stay until it’s done, even if it’s midnight.”
“Good. Be sure and call your insurance company; they’ll pay for it.”
“I have already done that; their adjuster just left. I had to file a police report, though.”
“Good. That’s one more bargaining chip. And speaking of bargaining chips, do you have a pencil and paper?”
“I’ll get one,” she said and put down the phone. A moment later she was back. “Go ahead.”
“First of all, how long ago did you and Henry separate?”
“About five weeks ago.”
“Good. All of the following expenditures were made since that time.”
“Expenditures? Henry’s?”
“Yes.”
“How would you have access to his expenditures?”
“You’re not to ask me that; just listen.”
“All right.”
“During the past thirty days, Henry has spent more than eight thousand dollars in restaurants. I can tell you from experience that he would have to order a lot of expensive wines to get that figure so high. He has also spent more than two thousand dollars with a florist, and about twelve thousand dollars with three jewelers. Has he taken you to dinner, sent you flowers or given you jewelry during the past thirty days?”
“Certainly not.”
“Then here’s what you do: You instruct your attorney to get a subpoena for all of Henry’s financial records and to look for these expenditures, but don’t mention the exact amounts or tell him that I gave you this information. Remember, he has spent all this money from marital funds, so you’re entitled to half in cash.”
“That’s wonderful, Stone! How on earth…”
“No, no, no,” Stone interrupted. “Don’t ask.”
“Oh, all right.”
“And don’t tell your attorney that you’ve learned all this; just tell him you’ve become suspicious of Henry’s spending habits since you parted.”
“All right.”
“Now to more pleasant things. I have a little house in Washington, Connecticut, and I’ve been invited to a very nice dinner party on Saturday night. Will you come up there with me for the weekend?”
“Oh, I’d love to!” she said. “I’ve been stuck in the city for too long.”
“Good. We’ll drive up Saturday morning and come back Sunday or Monday, whichever you prefer.”
“It sounds wonderful. Now I have to get back to work.”
“Talk to you later.” Stone hung up, and Joan came in with an envelope.
“This arrived by messenger,” she said.
Stone opened the envelope and found Barton’s prospectus. He leafed through it slowly, marveling at the pieces, and suddenly he came to a stop. He found himself staring at a photograph of Barton’s mahogany secretary. He read the accompanying caption:
A very fine example of a secretary, in two pieces, from the firm of Goddard-Townsend, of Newport, commissioned by Josiah Strong in 1760 and housed in the family home since that time. It is, very possibly, one of only two pieces still in private hands. A sister piece sold for $12.1 million at Christie’s in June of 1989.
Stone remembered that he had walked through the entire house with Barton, cataloguing each piece, and there had been no Goddard-Townsend secretary in any of the rooms or the attic. It seemed that Barton had thought of a way to give the remaining piece still in his possession an instant provenance. Stone also recalled that Barton had said he could not remember whether the stolen piece was the original or his copy and no one could tell the difference.
Joan buzzed. “Barton Cabot on line one.”
Stone picked up the phone. “Barton?”
“Yes, Stone. Did you get the prospectus?”
“Yes, I was just reading it.”
“I saw my banker earlier today, and my loan request was denied.”
“I’m astonished,” Stone said. “Isn’t the collection its own collateral?”
“That was only part of it. He said that such a large personal loan would have to be approved by the board of directors of the bank, which doesn’t meet again for another five weeks.”
“That’s bad news,” Stone said. “What is your next move?”
“It appears that my only move is to find a person who is wealthy enough and motivated enough to come up with the money. The drawback is I’ll have no control over how it’s sold. The pieces might have to be auctioned, piecemeal, to recover the investment, and even if a museum buys it, I’ll have no control over how the collection is displayed.”
“Have you sent the prospectus to any museums?”
“Yes, I’ve sent it to the eight directors most likely to want it, afford it and house it.”
“Well, maybe one of them will be able to come up with the money in time to close the sale with Mildred’s executors.”
“That will never happen. Even if they’re dying for it, they’d have to go first to their boards, then to their richest donors for the money. That could take months to resolve.”
“I wish I could help in some way,” Stone said, “but I don’t see what I can do.”
“No,” Barton said wearily, “I’ll have to find a way out of this myself, which means I have to come up with nineteen million dollars by Tuesday.”
“If anyone can do it, Barton, you can.”
“Tell me, Stone, did you, by any chance, receive an invitation to a dinner party at Ab Kramer’s on Saturday night?”
“Yes, and Tatiana is coming up to Washington with me.”
“Oh, good. Carla’s coming up, too. Her engagement at the Carlyle has ended. Could you give her a lift?”
“Of course. Are you thinking of going to Ab for the money?” Stone asked.
“Ab would never make me that kind of loan.”
“You could sell him your secretary.”
“He already has one, remember?”
“Well, I’ll see you at the party,” Stone said. “It should be fun.”
“It may be more fun than you think,” Barton said. Then he hung up.
55
Before Stone left the house that evening, he called Tatiana. “How’s the cleanup going?” he asked.
“Pretty well, actually,” she replied.
“Would you like to join me for dinner, then?”
“Oh, I think I’m going to be very tired when we’re done. Will you forgive me, if I don’t?”
“Of course. I’ll be at Elaine’s with some friends, so if you feel like it, join us.”
“If I’m up to it,” she said.
Stone took a cab up to Elaine’s and found Dino and Genevieve sitting with Elaine. He joined them and ordered a drink.
“So, how’s it going?” Dino asked.
“So-so, I guess.”
“Any progress in finding our missing piece of furniture?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“So we’re going to miss the payoff, then?”
“Looks that way.”
“You don’t seem too upset about it.”
Stone shrugged. “You win some; you lose some.”
“Speaking of which,” Genevieve said, nodding toward the door, “here comes one of your losses.”
Stone looked toward the door and saw Eliza and Edgar arriving. Genevieve was waving them over.
“Hello, Stone,” Eliza said, permitting him to peck her on the cheek.
“Hello, Eliza, Edgar.” He shook Edgar’s hand.
“Stone, Eliza and I must thank you for the lovely wedding gift,” Edgar said.
“Yes, Stone,” Eliza chimed in, “it’s just beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Stone said.
They all got up to allow the waiters to put a bigger top on the table, and more chairs were found.
Stone realized that this was the first time Eliza had crossed his mind since he had met Tatiana, and he was feeling pretty good about that. Still, he was uncomfortable, and he had a strong suspicion that Genevieve had staged all this.
“So,” Dino said to Eliza and Edgar, “when are you two going to have a honeymoon?”
“Oh,” Eliza said, “Edgar is fully scheduled for surgery for the next month.”
“Yes,” Edgar said. “I’ve stopped taking new elective cases, so that we can have a decent enough gap to be able to go away for a bit.”
Swell, Stone thought. This is really what I want to talk about.
“And I have a lot of thank-you notes to write,” Eliza said, “so it’s just as well we can’t get away immediately.”
Stone wanted to scream.
Menus arrived, and everybody chose something. Then Genevieve and Eliza began dominating the conversation, as if they hadn’t spent the whole day together in the emergency room.
Genevieve turned toward Stone. “Oh, Stone, there’s a new nurse in the ER I’d like to fix you up with. She’s very pretty and she’s bright, too.”
“Thank you, Genevieve, but I’m seeing somebody,” he said with some satisfaction. He saw a flash of disbelief in her eyes.
“Oh, how nice for you. Who is the lady?”
“No one you know,” Stone replied.
“Oh, come on. Tell us her name.”
“Oh, all right. It’s Tatiana Orlovsky.”
“What a charming name!” Genevieve said, as if she didn’t believe a word of it. “What does she do?”
“She’s an illustrator.”
“Oh, good! Does she specialize in anything?”
“She’s more of a generalist.”
“Well, isn’t it convenient that she’s come along just at this moment in your life.”
Stone was embarrassed that this was going on in the presence of Eliza. “Dino,” he said, in a desperate attempt to change the subject, “what’s new in the world of crime?”
“Same old, same old,” Dino said. “You know how it goes.” He gave a little shrug, as if to say you’re on your own, pal.
“Excuse me,” Stone said, getting up. He went into the men’s room, though he didn’t need to, and splashed some water on his face, taking his time. They’d have to talk about something else, since he wasn’t there, and he could rejoin the conversation when the new subject was established. He dried his face and went back to the table.
“Stone,” Genevieve was saying, “while you were gone, Eliza and I were talking about having a little dinner party at Dino’s and my house. Saturday night? We’d all love to meet… what was her name?”
“Tatiana,” Stone said through clenched teeth.
“Can you come Saturday?”
“I’m sorry, but we’ve accepted an invitation to dinner in Connecticut that night, so we’re going up for the weekend.”
Genevieve smiled sweetly. “What a pity. I was sure it would be something like that.”
Dino turned to his girlfriend. “Genevieve,” he said softly but with an edge, “put a sock in it.”
She swiveled toward Dino but was met with a steely gaze. “I’m sorry, Stone,” she said, a little sheepishly.
At that moment the heavens opened for Stone along with the door to the restaurant, and Tatiana walked in, looking fresh and ready for the evening. Stone, vastly relieved, stood up and kissed her on the lips. “Tatiana Orlovsy, this is Dino, Genevieve, Eliza, Edgar and Elaine.”
“I’m so pleased to meet all of you,” Tatiana said, taking an offered chair next to Stone. She turned to him. “The men finished half an hour ago, and you’d never know anything had happened in the kitchen.”
“I’m
really
glad you could make it,” Stone said. He turned to the others. “Tatiana had a small fire in her kitchen last night, but there was no serious damage.”
“No,” Tatiana said, “just smoke and water, and it cleaned up nicely.” A waiter brought her a menu, and she ordered.
Stone watched and listened as, for the rest of the evening, Tatiana charmed and amused everybody except, maybe, Genevieve.
In the cab home, Stone kissed Tatiana. “I can’t tell you how glad I was to see you this evening.”
“Just what every girl wants to hear,” she replied, kissing him back.
“I used to go out with Eliza before she and Edgar were married, and Genevieve has been giving me a hard time about it.”
“Well,” Tatiana said, “she won’t do that while
I’m
around. You’re now under my protection. Oh, I talked to my lawyer, and he’s applied for a subpoena for Henry’s financial records.”
“Good.”
“I still wonder how you know about those expenses.”
“Trade secret,” Stone said, then changed the subject.
56
When Stone got to his desk the following morning there was a message from Bill Eggers on his desk. It read: “Get your ass over here.”
Stone buzzed Joan. “Is this note on my desk your interpretation of what Eggers said?”
“No. That’s what he said verbatim.”
“Thanks.” Stone hung up and got into his jacket.
Stone reached Bill Eggers’s office seconds ahead of Harlan Deal.
“Sit down, gentlemen,” Eggers said.
They sat.
“Stone,” Eggers said, “it grieves me to hear that you are, once again, the principal suspect — in fact, the
only
suspect — in the tampering with yet another female friend of Harlan.”
“Frankly, Bill,” Stone said, “I’m getting a little tired of this.”
“So is Harlan,” Eggers replied, “which is my point. Do you deny this?”
“Let me lay this out for you both as clearly as I can,” Stone said. “I was invited to dinner at Harlan’s home last Sunday evening — at the last possible moment, I might add — and I believe I caught sight of you, Bill, across a crowded room. I also encountered the lovely Carla there, in the company of Barton Cabot, so I naturally assumed that Harlan’s purpose in asking me there was to observe me in her company, which I thought was a petty thing to do.”