“Something very unlike hospital food,” she replied.
Stone went to his office and asked Joan to pass that on. He called Dino.
“Bacchetti.”
“It’s Stone. We got Faith home from the hospital; she seems to be doing real well.”
“Swell.”
“She remembered something else,” Stone said.
“What’s that?”
“It’s not much, but the music she heard was high quality, good bass, very clear midrange. It sounds like one of those small, high-fidelity FM radios you see advertised in the Times.”
“You’re right, it’s not much,” Dino replied, “but I’ll mention it. How does Faith look?”
“Much better. The bruising on her face is pretty much gone, or can be covered with makeup. Her cuts will take a while to heal, but they don’t seem to be slowing her down.”
“I’m happy for her. Can I go now?”
“Make yourself happy.”
Dino hung up.
Stone dealt with his correspondence and phone messages, then Joan buzzed. “Edith Beresford, on one.”
Stone picked it up. “Hello, there,” he said, with as much cheer as he could manage.
“You don’t sound so good,” she said. “Is something wrong?”
“It hasn’t been a good week so far.”
“Don’t tell me the jealous ex-husband is still around. Has he hurt you?”
“He murdered his wife,” Stone said.
“What? Is he in jail?”
“The police don’t have enough to put him away. In fact, there’s an opinion in the NYPD that I’m a better candidate.”
“Nonsense! You wouldn’t hurt a fly!”
“I’ve hurt many flies in my day and a few criminals, too, but you’re right. It’s just that I arrived at her apartment for dinner and discovered her body. Homicide detectives tend to consider whoever discovers the body a suspect, and now that they haven’t been able to nail the obvious killer, the ex-husband, they’re looking at me askance.”
“Well, you tell them I said to stop it! I won’t have it!”
“I’ll be sure to pass that along during my next third degree, right after they employ the rubber hose.”
“What you need is to go out to dinner with me. I’ll cheer you up.”
“I may not be cheerable for a few more days.”
“Come to me. I’ll cook you dinner.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I could handle that twice in one week.”
“Oh, God, I can’t believe I said that.”
“Let me get through the funeral, which should be later this week. I’ll call, I promise.”
“If you don’t, I’ll just come and get you.” She hung up.
Stone called Herb Fisher.
“Hey. How you doing?” Herb asked.
“So-so. Who’s planning the funeral?”
“A cousin of Cilla’s. It’ll be Saturday at a little church in Greenwich, you should get a note about it.”
“I won’t count on that, but if I do, I’ll accept.”
“Yeah, I heard the cops are looking at you a little too closely.”
“I guess they’ve got to do something with their time,” Stone said.
“At least Trask won’t get a penny out of her death. I drew her a new will, as you suggested, and I told his attorney.”
“I know.”
“Let me know if you need a good lawyer.”
“You know somebody?” Stone asked.
“Just call. I gotta run.”
Joan came in with an envelope. “This was just delivered.”
He opened it.
Dear Mr. Barrington,
I know that you and Cilla were good friends, and I hope you can join us for her service this weekend. The information and RSVP number are below.
Yours,
Mary Scott Dunham
Stone handed it to Joan. “Please tell them I’ll be there.”
“Are you sure you want to go?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m sure.” He wasn’t all that sure, but he was just going to have to tough it out.
The church wasn’t very large, and it was packed. Stone sat a couple of rows behind the family seats and paid close attention to everything that was said.
The service ended, and a woman caught up with him. “Mr. Barrington,” she said, “I’m Mary, Cilla’s cousin.”
Stone shook her hand. “She was a lovely person. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
She took his arm and walked out with him. “Did you see Donald?”
“No,” Stone said. “He had the nerve to come?”
“He did, though I certainly didn’t invite him. He sat in the back row and got out as quickly as he could.”
On the front steps, Stone looked around the parking lot.
“That’s his car,” she said, nodding toward a black Mercedes SUV driving away.
“I’ll remember it,” Stone said.
45
Stone said his goodbyes and got into his car. “Let’s go home, Fred,” he said, “and keep an eye out for a black Mercedes SUV.”
“Anybody we know?” Fred asked.
“Somebody I’d rather not know, who’s probably still limping from the last time he met you.”
“Ah, that gentleman. I’d love to meet him again.”
“If you do, he’ll be armed. Remember that.”
The following day Stone called Edie Beresford.
“Hello, you. How did the funeral go?”
“Beautifully, except that the murderer turned up and sat in the back row.”
“What chutzpah!”
“That’s the word for it. Are you free for dinner this evening?”
“I am.”
“Then I’ll pick you up at seven. Do you mind if some friends join us?”
“Not in the least. Who are they?”
“Dino and Vivian Bacchetti.”
“Is he the police commissioner?”
“He is. We were partners back during my cop days.”
“Where are we going?”
“Caravaggio, in the Seventies.”
“It’s around the corner from me; I’ll meet you there.”
“As you wish.” He hung up and invited the Bacchettis.
Stone waited outside the restaurant, and twice, a black Mercedes SUV circled the block and drove past slowly. The windows were too dark to see the driver, but Stone got the Connecticut plate number.
Dino and Viv showed up a moment later, and Stone told him about the car.
“Black windows? That’s against the law.” Dino made a call. “It’s Bacchetti. I want to report a Mercedes SUV with black windows.” He gave them the plate number. “Pick up the driver and be warned, he’s probably armed. Take him to the precinct, write him a ticket, and relieve him of his weapon and carry license. Reason? He’s a suspect in a murder.” He hung up. “Now we can eat.”
They were in the middle of their main course when Dino got a call. He listened, said, “Thank you,” and hung up. “Donald Trask is in custody, disarmed, and Muldoon and Calabrese will be interrogating him as soon as his attorney arrives.”
“Well, at least they’re inconveniencing him,” Stone replied.
“And making him madder,” Dino responded.
Edie invited them all back to her place for a cognac. She had an apartment on Fifth Avenue that reminded Stone all too much of Cilla’s in its size, shape, and elevation.
“Tell me,” Edie said to Dino, “is Stone still a suspect?”
“That’s for the investigating detectives to decide,” Dino said. “I can’t tell them not to suspect him.”
“But surely, you don’t share their views?”
“Not really. I just can’t get in the way of procedure for a friend. He’ll sweat it out okay, don’t worry.”
Dino got another call and listened, then hung up. “Trask, on advice of his attorney, has declined to answer questions,” he said. “Muldoon will make sure somebody at the papers gets the story. That’ll turn up the pressure a bit. Also, he has to get a new lawyer. Muldoon heard Terry Barnes tell him not to call him again, and he gave him another lawyer’s card.”
