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  “That’s a good excuse for not letting you have a dog,” Viv said.

  “That’s what I suspected. Anyway, my custody is only temporary. Bob is going back to his mom in a couple of weeks.”

  “Awwww,” Viv said. “And he’s so nice.”

  A waiter appeared with a T-bone on a silver platter, and Bob accepted it with alacrity.

  “I’ll bet that’s the first time anybody has ever been served a bone in this joint,” Dino said.

  “No doubt.” Dino’s and Viv’s drinks arrived.

  “Dino tells me you were caught with a dead woman last weekend,” Viv said.

  “I’ll bet he did,” Stone replied. “He’s having a good time with that one.”

  “Tell me the whole story.”

  Stone gave her a rapid-fire account.

  “You lead such an interesting life,” Viv said.

  “I do, don’t I?”

  “Glad you’re not married to him?” Dino asked.

  “Fairly glad. You lead an interesting life, too.”

  “I ran a check on this Harvey Biggers,” Dino said.

  “And?”

  “He got busted on a domestic disturbance last year.”

  “With Carrie Fiske?”

  “That was the name.”

  “Is it policy to always arrest the husband in these things?”

  “Not exactly, but if the wife makes the call, it often works out that way.”

  “Did either of them have any marks or bruises?”

  “I didn’t read that far.”

  “Anything else on the Biggers sheet?”

  “Yeah, the year before last he called nine-one-one from a motel in West Palm Beach—a woman in his bed, unresponsive.”

  15

  Stone stared at Dino. “Oh, shit.”

  “My reaction exactly,” Dino said.

  “Why didn’t the East Hampton cops come up with that?”

  “Beats me—maybe they searched the wrong databases.”

  “Hang on.” Stone got out his cell phone and called Carrie Fiske. The call went directly to voice mail. “Hello, Carrie, this is Stone. I’ve just gotten some new information about Harvey. I don’t know where you are, but it’s imperative that you stay as far away from him as possible. If he turns up, call the police and accuse him of stalking you. Call me back at your earliest opportunity.” He hung up. “I’m back.”

  “Your client?” Dino asked.

  “My client’s voice mail.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Out of town. I don’t know where.”

  “Where is Harvey Biggers?”

  “He must be in New York. Sergeant D’Orio said he talked to him today. I’d better call the East Hampton cops. What is that chief’s name again?”

  “I’ve already called him,” Dino said. “Got him before he left the city, so they’re either talking to him right now or looking for him.”

  “Biggers came to see me, you know.”

  “But you’re representing his wife.”

  “I put Fred on bodyguard duty with Carrie Fiske. Biggers showed up and tried to get at her, ignoring Fred. Fred broke his nose, and a couple of cops sent him to the hospital. He was packing, too, according to Fred, but he didn’t get busted for that. He must have a permit.”

  Dino got out his cell phone and made a call, then hung up. “He does. I just canceled it, so if he gets picked up again, they’ll hold him. Why did he come to see you?”

  “To convince me that he was about to be killed by Carrie.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “Yeah, he almost convinced me. Now I have lingering doubts to dismiss.”

  They ordered dinner, then Stone tried again to reach Carrie, with the same result.

  “You’re looking worried,” Viv said.

  “That’s because I don’t know where she is, and I don’t know where Harvey is, either.”

  “I’ll call Ferris,” Dino said. He listened, left a message, and hung up. “He’ll call when he gets the message.”

  “Well,” Viv said, “at least we know she’s not in New York, where Harvey was last sighted.”

  “No, we don’t know that. She may have told me that to keep me from returning Bob.”

  “Why would you want to return Bob? He’s lovely!”

  “This was sort of a practical joke. She left for the city and left Bob in my car with a note, saying she’d be away for a couple of weeks.”

  “And how does Bob feel about that?”

  “Perfectly fine, as far as I know. You can ask him, he’s under the table.”

  Viv lifted the tablecloth and checked. “He’s occupied with a T-bone and doesn’t wish to be disturbed.”

  —

  Dinner came and they ate, but everybody was preoccupied now.

  Dino’s phone rang. “Bacchetti. Yeah, Don. Have you got eyes on Harvey Biggers? Well, I dug back a couple of years and found that he called nine-one-one in West Palm and reported an unresponsive woman in his bed, who was DOA. Yeah, I thought that was interesting, too. I’m with Stone Barrington, and Biggers’s ex-wife is his client. He’s worried about her, and he can’t find her. Is that enough for you to take Biggers back to East Hampton for a while? I see. Will you add carrying a concealed weapon without a permit to the charges? That should be enough to pick him up. No, he had a permit—I canceled it. Keep me posted, will you? And let me know if you need assistance from my people.” Dino hung up. “They last saw him at home, so they’ll knock on his door again.”

  “I’d really like to have him off the street,” Stone said.

  “Is East Hampton far enough away? That’s where they’ll take him for questioning, if he’s still there.”

  “That’ll do for the time being.”

  Dino’s phone went off. “Bacchetti. Yeah, Don. We’ll handle it. Give me an address. Ten minutes, tops.” He broke off the call and pressed a speed dial number. “This is Bacchetti. I want a man picked up, one Harvey Biggers.” He gave the address. “Hold him on a charge of carrying a concealed weapon without a permit. He had one, I canceled it. Get back to me.” He hung up. “Biggers didn’t answer his door, but he should be in the bag shortly, then you can relax and have dessert.”

  They had dessert, then Dino’s phone rang again. “Bacchetti. Well, shit. Issue an APB on my authority, and call me when he’s in cuffs.” He hung up. “He wasn’t at home.”

  They had coffee then broke up. Stone walked Bob home for the exercise. Fortunately, he had brought plastic bags.

  —

  Stone was unlocking his front door when he heard a shoe scuff on the steps behind him. “Good evening, Mr. Barrington,” a deep voice said.

  Stone turned to find Harvey Biggers standing there, holding a pistol.

  16

  Stone stared at the gun barrel: a 45. He wasn’t going to argue with that. “Of course,” he said, opening the door. “Come right in.” Bob ran ahead; Stone dropped the leash, slammed the door behind him, and stepped out of the line of fire. He heard muffled swearing from outside, and there was banging on the door.

  Stone called Dino.

  “Bacchetti.”

  “It’s Stone. Biggers is on my front steps with a .45, banging on my door.”

  “Hang on.” Dino went off-line, then came back seconds later. “There’s a car four blocks from you. It’s on the way.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “Can you keep him occupied until it arrives?”

  “I’ll see.” Stone picked up the intercom next to the door and pressed a button. “Mr. Biggers? Are you there?”

  “You son of a bitch, you invited me in!”

  “You might recall that I was under duress at the time.”

  “Duress? I didn’t threaten you.”

  “Mr. Biggers, you
pointed a gun at me.”

  “Well, I’ve never shot anybody before.”

  “Gee, I wish you’d told me, I’d have let you right in.” Stone heard a police siren; sounded like a couple of blocks away. He heard footsteps on the intercom. “Mr. Biggers?” He went back to his cell phone. “Your cops used their siren, scared him off.”

  “They wouldn’t have done that—I told them to keep it quiet. It was probably another car answering a different call.”

  “That’s comforting.”

  “Well, at least he’s carrying. We’ve got a legit beef to take him in.”

  “Let me know if that gets done, will you? I’ll have to take Bob out in the morning, and I’d like to know that I won’t get shot while Bob is pooping.”

  “Yeah, sure. Go to bed.” Dino hung up, and Stone and Bob went upstairs. Bob seemed to like the elevator.

  —

  Stone turned over and flung out an arm, and he was greeted with a grunt. He opened an eye. “Bob? Nobody invited you onto my bed.”

  Bob opened an eye, regarded him coolly, then rolled over and went back to sleep.

  Stone was about to get up and throw Bob at his own bed when the phone rang. He glanced at the bedside clock: 6:05 AM.

  He picked up the phone. “What?” he muttered.

  “Good morning. It’s Carrie.”

  “It’s six o’clock in the morning, what’s good about that?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s the time difference. I got it wrong.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Out of town.”

  “It’s important that you stay there, until the coast is clear.”

  “Clear of what?”

  “Not what, who. Rather, whom?”

  “Is it Harvey?”

  “He greeted me on my front steps when I came home last night and pointed a gun at me.”

  “That thing? It’s never loaded.”

  “I didn’t feel I could count on that.”

  “He wouldn’t hurt a . . .”

  “Ex-wife?”

  “Well . . .”

  “Carrie, twice in the past two years Harvey has been reported with a female corpse in his bed. Does that give you any ideas?”

  “Was one of them next door to my East Hampton house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where was the other?”

  “West Palm.”

  “Oh.”

  “Carrie, one female corpse in a fellow’s bed can be explained away, maybe—two, not so easy. Unless you want to try for the number three slot, stay out of New York, East Hampton, or any other place that Harvey might think to find you.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Carrie, when you came to me because you were afraid of your ex-husband, were you serious?”

  “Yes, I suppose I was, but I was upset.”

  “And that was before you knew about the two corpses.”

  “You have a point.”

  “I have more than a point, Carrie, I have a serious concern for your safety, and so should you. The police are looking for Harvey as we speak, and I’ve no doubt they’ll bag him soon.”

  “Has Harvey actually done anything?”

  “He’s carrying an unlicensed firearm.”

  “But he told me he has a license.”

  “Not anymore. I arranged for it to be canceled, so the police would have cause to detain him.”

  “Weren’t two lady corpses enough?”

  “Not until enough evidence has been found to prove he caused their deaths.”

  “What kind of evidence?”

  “Say, a bullet in one of their brains that matches his gun—like that.”

  “Was either of them shot?”

  “So far, the causes of death are undetermined.”

  “So, what other kind of evidence?”

  “Forensic evidence.”

  “You mean, like on TV?”

  “Exactly like that—fibers, hairs, blood, DNA, fingerprints. Also, the old-fashioned kind of evidence—motive, means, and opportunity.”

  “How are you and Bob getting along?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “But I’m concerned about Bob.”

  “When you’ve convinced me that you’re taking this threat seriously, we can talk about Bob.”

  “All right, I’m taking it seriously. I won’t come home until you say I can.”

  “Good. Now how can I get ahold of you?”

  She gave him a number. “That’s my cell. It works everywhere.”

  “That’s good enough.”

  “Now, how about you and Bob?”

  “We’re both fine.”

  “Are you enjoying each other’s company?”

  “I can only speak for myself—Bob has been quiet on the subject.”

  “Has he bitten you or growled at you?”

  “Neither. He’s been a perfect gentleman. I took him out to dinner last night, and he behaved beautifully.”

  “Where?”

  “Patroon.”

  “Isn’t that a steak house?”

  “Steaks are on the menu.”

  “That was dangerous, Bob likes his beef.”

  “He got a large bone and was perfectly content.”

  “I’ve got to run, baby. You two take care of each other.”

  Before Stone could reply, she had hung up.

  Bob edged across the bed and rested his head on Stone’s stomach.

  “It was for you,” Stone said. “Your mama is fine.”

  17

  Stone fed Bob, then led him to the elevator, stood him up on his hind legs and held his paw to the elevator button. “Remember this,” he said. The door opened, and Bob walked on. Stone put his finger on the office-level button. “Remember this, too, it’s a two-step process.” He pressed the button and the elevator and Bob went down.

  Stone got his breakfast from the dumbwaiter, set it on the bed, and got back in. His phone rang. “Yes?”

  “It’s Joan. I was standing in your office when Bob got off the elevator alone. How’d he do that?”

  “I explained it to him.”

  “Oh.”

  “Bob’s had his breakfast and wants to go out. May I eat mine now? You won’t have to take me out.”

  “Enjoy.” Joan hung up.

  Later, Stone was at his desk when Joan buzzed. “Dino on one.”

  He pressed the button. “Good morning.”

  “Yeah, you too. My guys found your pal Biggers, two blocks from your house. He said he’d just gotten off a Second Avenue bus.”

  “And they bought that?”

  “No, they searched him and found no gun.”

  “So, he ditched it.”

  “Probably. He was wearing a .45 holster on his belt.”

  “Aha!”

  “No aha. They couldn’t arrest him for carrying a concealed holster.”

  “Why not? I should think that would be prima facie evidence of carrying a gun.”

  “He said he had worn the same pants for two days and forgot that the holster was on his belt.”

  “So he confessed to having a gun on him the day before.”

  “Yeah, but he said he wasn’t in the city then.”

  “Yeah, but you have a witness who saw him carrying a gun.”

  “Who, you?”

  “Yeah, me.”

  “You know as well as I do that eyewitness testimony is often wrong.”

  “Not when I’m the eyewitness.”

  “You have a high opinion of your own perspicacity.”

  “I know a .45 caliber Glock when I see it—that’s perspicacious enough.”

  “Not in a court of law. A good defense attorney would call your perspicaciousn
ess into question. He’d say you wanted to see a .45 Glock in the man’s hand, therefore you thought you saw it.”

  “My perspifuckingcaciousness is just fine, thank you. I remind you that I’m a veteran police officer.”

  “You were a veteran police officer. The clock goes back to zero when you retire.”

  “Well, then, I’m a veteran former police officer.”

  “I don’t have time to mince words with you, I have thirty-six thousand, six hundred police officers to command.”

  “Mince this!” Stone shouted into the phone, but it was too late; Dino had already hung up.

  Joan was standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. “You seem a little on edge,” she said.

  “I’m just fine.”

  “No, you’re steaming—even Bob noticed.” She nodded toward the dog, who was sitting next to Stone’s desk, staring anxiously at him.

  “Bob, I’m just fine,” he said.

  “Bob’s not buying it,” Joan said. “Why don’t you get out of town for a while, until they pick up this guy.”

  “Where would you like me to go?”

  “Pick something from your extensive list of real estate holdings,” she said, “and go.”

  “I just got back,” Stone pointed out.

  “That’s no excuse.”

  “You’re just trying to get rid of me.”

  “Nope, Harvey Biggers is trying to get rid of you.”

  “He’s not smart enough to get rid of me.”

  “He doesn’t have to be smart, he just has to be lucky.”

  “Arguing with you is like arguing with Dino.”

  She brightened. “Thank you very much.”

  “It wasn’t meant as a compliment.”

  “I knew that, but I liked it anyway.”

  Stone leaned on his elbows and put his face in his hands. Bob walked over and rested his chin on Stone’s knee, slowly wagging his tail.

  “Bob and I think you should get out of town,” Joan said. The phone rang, and she picked up the one on Stone’s desk. “The Barrington Practice,” she said, “or Woodman & Weld, take your pick.”

  Stone made a groaning noise.

  “Well, hi there, how are you?” Joan said, brightening. “He’s right here.” She handed Stone the phone. “It’s Ed Eagle, calling from Santa Fe.”