Sex, Lies & Serious Money

by Stuart Woods

  Stone went back to work. An hour later, Hev stuck her head in. “My guys have got your office in hand, I think. Mind if I start on the master suite?”

  “Go right ahead.”

  “Is the coast clear up there?”

  “Clear, and likely to remain so.”

  She smiled. “Oh, well.”

  “Hev, would you like to join some friends and me for dinner tonight?”

  She cocked her head and smiled at him. “What a nice idea. I’ll check my bag and see if I have something suitable.”

  “I’ll bet you do. You can shower and change upstairs when you’re done with work.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Rotisserie Georgette on Sixtieth.”

  “Then put me down for a yes.” She left, closing the door behind her.

  Stone called Dino. “You’re on for dinner.”

  “I’ve already booked for three—Viv is in Miami for a couple of days. Seven-thirty.”

  “We’ll see you there.”

  —

  STONE WENT UPSTAIRS at the end of the day, expecting to find Hev still working, but when he walked into the master suite, he heard her shower running. He considered calling on her there, but resisted the temptation. Then, while he was resisting, the door opened, and she appeared wearing only a bath towel.

  “Oops,” she said, retreating behind the door.

  “Quite all right. You look very nice in a towel.”

  “Why don’t you relax, and I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

  “Good idea.” He stretched out on the bed and dozed.

  42

  STONE WAS STILL DOZING when he felt the bed move and opened an eye. Hev was sitting there, still wearing the towel, but her hair was dry and her makeup applied.

  “What time is dinner?” she asked.

  “Seven-thirty.”

  “Then we have nearly an hour, don’t we?”

  “We do.”

  “How would you like to spend it?”

  “Without the bath towel,” he replied.

  She whipped it off and tossed it in the direction of the guest bath. “There, is that better?”

  “Much better.” He reached for her, but she shied away.

  “I’m not getting into bed with a fully clothed man,” she said. “I have my standards.”

  Stone quickly fixed that, and she crawled across the bed and sank into his arms.

  “Is this all part of the Strategic Services home security program?” he asked. “Mike Freeman didn’t mention it.”

  “Apparently,” she said, “Mr. Freeman is a mischief maker.” She stroked his lower belly. “Such nice abs,” she said, “for a man of your age.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  She poked at his belly. “How do you maintain them?”

  “Painfully.”

  “Oh, and they’re not all that’s nice.” She stroked him.

  “It likes you, too,” he said.

  She kissed him on a nipple and that brought him fully to attention.

  “All we need is a lubricant,” he said, starting to reach for a bedside drawer.

  She pulled him back. “No, we don’t,” she replied, and she was right.

  —

  SHE SHOOK HIM AWAKE at six-thirty. “We don’t want to be late meeting your friends.”

  Stone sat up on one elbow. “Actually, it’s only one friend. His wife is out of town. You may know her—Vivian Bacchetti?”

  “We all know Viv,” she said. “So we’re having dinner with Dino?”

  “We are. Dino and I have had more dinners without Viv than with. She’s always traveling on business. I’d better get into a shower.”

  “While you’re doing that, I’ll freshen up and get some clothes on.”

  “But you look so nice as you are.”

  “I’m delighted you think so, but we don’t want to cause a scandal at Georgette’s, do we?” She repaired to the bathroom.

  He showered and put on fresh clothes. Fred awaited them downstairs, and they arrived at the restaurant on time. Dino was already at the table with a drink in front of him. “Yours is on the way, Stone, and this must be Hev?”

  —

  “HOW DO YOU DO, Dino?” she asked, offering her hand.

  “Not as well as you do,” he replied.

  “I’d like a vodka gimlet, straight up,” she said, and Dino spoke to their waiter.

  Two hours passed and a large roast chicken was reduced to a pile of bones before them.

  “Is your installation complete?” Dino asked.

  “Tomorrow,” Hev replied.

  “That’s very fast.”

  “It’s a wireless installation, the latest thing.” She dug an iPhone from her bag, fired it up, and opened an app. “Here’s the view of your office, Stone.”

  Stone took the phone from her. “It looks like a movie set,” he said, “photographed from half a dozen angles.”

  “Pick one and tap on it.”

  He did so, and a shot of his desktop filled the screen. “Wow.”

  “It’s even more impressive on an iPad,” she said. She took him through the other angles, then zoomed in and out. “Now the master suite.”

  “Oops,” Stone said, “I forgot to make the bed this morning.”

  “Stone,” Dino said, “you never lift a finger in that house, and it’s never less than neat for more than five minutes.”

  “Oh, shut up, Dino,” Stone said, while Hev giggled. “Look, there’s Bob,” she said. The dog trotted into the room and promptly hopped onto the unmade bed and curled up.

  “Can I yell at him?” Stone asked.

  “I can look into adding that feature, but usually our clients would rather be phoning the police instead of yelling at intruders.”

  “It could be a very good dog-training device,” Stone said, “and maybe even a good marketing pitch for wronged husbands.”

  “Give me your iPhone,” she said, “and I’ll download the app and set it up for you.”

  Stone gave her his phone and continued to fiddle with hers. “Uh-oh,” he said suddenly. “We have company.”

  She took her phone and gazed at the image. A large man was wandering around his office, wearing gloves and a woolen cap and opening drawers. The shot was from above, and the cap shielded his face.

  “How the hell did he get in?” Stone asked.

  “The same way he did last time,” Hev said. “I’ll bet you didn’t arm the alarm system.”

  Dino pressed a speed-dial button on his phone. “This is Bacchetti. I want a squad car in Turtle Bay immediately.” He gave his office the address. “The front door should be open.”

  “Don’t rub it in,” Stone said. Hev handed him back his phone, fully operational. “The guy is going through every drawer and cabinet.”

  “He’s quite neat,” Hev said. “I don’t think he wants you to know he’s been there. Hang on! He’s heard something, and he’s getting out.”

  The culprit ran toward the back of the office and disappeared through a door.

  “He’s headed for the kitchen,” Hev said, “and we haven’t got set up there yet.”

  “No, he’s headed through the kitchen and out the back door into our common garden,” Stone said. “Dino, can you get a car to cover the exit from the garden to Second Avenue?”

  Dino got out his phone and gave the order, checking his watch. “They’ll be there in two minutes.”

  “Hev, I think covering my house is going to be a bigger order than you planned,” Stone said.

  “Mike Freeman will love that,” she replied. “What else do you want done?”

  “Certainly the kitchen and a view of the garden from upstairs. And you need to adjust your cameras so that an intruder’s face won’t be shielded by a hat
or a hoodie.”

  “Consider it done,” she said, tapping notes into her phone.

  “And you still have to change the outer door locks,” he said. “That’s twice this guy has picked the lock.”

  “We had to order the new Israeli locks. They’ll be in tomorrow.”

  “Aw, shit!” Dino said, listening on his phone.

  “What?”

  “They missed the guy on Second Avenue. He’s flown the coop.”

  “That’s bad news,” Stone said.

  “The news isn’t all bad,” Dino said. “I recognize your intruder.”

  “Who is he?”

  “His name is Marvin Jones, just out of the joint.”

  “But we couldn’t see his face.”

  “I still recognized him.”

  “From where?”

  “From tapes of the cameras in Laurence Hayward’s apartment. Trust me, it’s the same guy.”

  43

  STONE SLID OUT OF BED, trying not to wake Hev. They had been at it until the wee hours, and he was still tired, not to mention sore.

  He got into the shower and dumped some shampoo on his head, which got into his eyes, momentarily blinding him. Then a body rubbed against him. “Now who could that be?”

  “How soon you forget,” Hev said, taking him in her hand.

  “I’m a little sore down there,” he said.

  “Awww. And I was so looking forward.”

  “It will soon be restored to health, if we give it a little rest.”

  She stepped out of the shower and appropriated his towel. He followed her, wet, and found another bath sheet in his linen cupboard. By the time he got back to the bedroom she was dressed in her Strategic Services jumpsuit.

  “Having been rebuffed, I’m off to work,” she said.

  “That wasn’t a rebuff, just a momentary retreat.”

  “I’ll forgive you this time.”

  “Oh, thank you. I feel so much better now.”

  His bedside phone rang, and he picked it up. “Yes?”

  “A package was hand-delivered from Strategic Services,” Joan said.

  “I’ll be down shortly.” He hung up. “Hev, there’s a package from your office.”

  “That will be your new door locks,” she said.

  “Do me a favor, go out the front door, then ring my office bell from the outside.”

  “We’re deceiving Joan, are we?”

  “We hope to, but I won’t count on it. Look surprised about the package.”

  “I’ll try.” She kissed him and left.

  Stone sat down on the bed and called Laurence Hayward.

  “Good morning, Stone, how are you?”

  “Very well, thank you, and welcome back.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Laurence, it seems we have a mutual problem.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Do you know a man named Marvin Jones?”

  “Well, we haven’t been properly introduced, but I have security footage of him in my apartment.”

  “Funny, so do I. In my house.”

  “Dino told me his name.”

  “Same here.”

  “I don’t get it,” Laurence said, “what’s the connection between you, me, and Mr. Jones?”

  “I don’t get it either. I’m baffled.”

  “A very good word for my condition.”

  “Run your tapes for the time you were gone, and see if he pops up.”

  “I certainly will, and right away.”

  They hung up, and Stone got dressed. As he was about to go downstairs, Laurence called back.

  “I’ve viewed my tapes, and Mr. Jones does not make an appearance.”

  “I’m still baffled,” Stone said.

  “So am I. Will you call Dino, or shall I?”

  “I’ll speak to him,” Stone said, then hung up. Then it occurred to him that he had nothing to tell Dino, who had already seen the video from his house. He went downstairs and found Joan at her desk. “You said I had a package?”

  “Never mind, Ms. Peace arrived from somewhere or other and relieved me of it, said it contained our new locks. What’s wrong with our old locks?”

  “They’ve been picked twice,” Stone said, then explained the situation.

  “But what’s the connection between this Jones, you, and Mr. Hayward?”

  “We are both baffled.”

  “Dino, too?”

  “We are all baffled.”

  “Add me to the list.” She took her Colt .45 from her desk drawer, popped the magazine, ejected a round, looked it over, then reloaded it, worked the action, and returned it to the drawer. “Okay, I’m ready for him.”

  “Please, please, don’t shoot the man. It was so messy last time, what with the carpet and all.”

  “Should I offer him coffee and Danish?”

  “You may hold him at gunpoint while calling nine-one-one.”

  “Not Dino?”

  “Dino doesn’t really like taking nine-one-one calls. He’d rather hear about it later.”

  “And who can blame him?” She gave Stone his mail and went back to work.

  Stone sat down at his desk and reviewed the mail, sorting the real stuff into one pile and the catalogs and begging letters into another. The pile of real mail was much the smaller of the two, and he gave it to Joan to handle.

  Bob came in and lobbied for a cookie, and Stone, against his better judgment, gave him one. “I know this isn’t your first of the day,” he said to the dog.

  Bob requested another.

  “Not I, pal. Try Joan.”

  Bob padded into Joan’s office and didn’t come back.

  “You’re a pushover!” he called out to her.

  “Look who’s talking!” she called back.

  —

  A LITTLE LATER, Dino called.

  “Good morning.”

  “You sound tired,” Dino said.

  “Don’t start with me.”

  “I’ll bet Ms. Heavenly Peace isn’t a bit tired.”

  “I said, don’t start.”

  “Girls like that never wear out, they just keep going, like that rabbit in the commercials.”

  “Dino, I’m too tired to handle this.”

  “I thought so.”

  “What do you want?”

  “There’s news on the Marvin Jones front.”

  “Tell me.”

  “We’re canvassing all the locksmiths on the East Side, down to Fourteenth Street.”

  “Oh, good. Why?”

  “Before he went to prison for financial no-no’s, Mr. Jones worked for three years for a locksmith.”

  “Surely the terms of his parole would prevent him from working for another locksmith. No locksmith could hire him.”

  “He’s not on parole—not anymore, anyway.”

  “Has he been out that long?”

  “No, I guess you haven’t heard about the overcrowding in the prison population?”

  “I did see something about that in the papers. Did he get sprung?”

  “Yes, him and a lot of others.”

  “Then there must have been overcrowding among those released at the parole offices.”

  “Exactly. He and others, with no record of violent crimes, were discharged from parole, an unintended consequence of which is that Mr. Jones, not being on parole, but a free man, can work for a locksmith again. He can even apply for a license, having served an apprenticeship before the law caught up with his financial indiscretions.”

  “So, you’re canvassing all the locksmiths on the East Side?”

  “Down to Fourteenth Street.”

  Stone sighed. “Call me when that hen lays an egg.” He hung up.

  44

&nb
sp; SOFIA/MARIA GOT OFF the train and grabbed a cab to Marv’s apartment. He was surprised to see her. “I thought you’d be gone for a week.”

  “I got lucky and made a good score.”

  “How good?”

  “Good enough for it to be dangerous to keep on. They were looking for me. I changed trains and came back.”

  “I’m glad you had a good score, because I’m scraping bottom,” he said.

  She produced a wad of bills and handed it to him. “There’s five grand. Now you can take me out to dinner.”

  —

  SHE CHOSE an elegant Italian place on the East Side, Caravaggio, where they knew her and gave her an excellent table. Menus were brought and drinks ordered. “Try the osso buco,” she said.

  “What’s that?”

  “A calf’s shank, cooked a long time, served with risotto.”

  “Okay.”

  —

  AN HOUR LATER they ordered brandy. “Okay,” she said, “why are you running on empty?”

  “I had the Barrington place set up to get cleaned out. The pictures alone are worth a couple of hundred grand, at least.”

  “What happened?”

  “A lot of security equipment suddenly appeared. The cops were all over me both times.”

  “You went there twice? You must be nuts.”

  “I was getting desperate for money.”

  “Do you know if you got made?”

  “I was talking to Butch in Central Park, and two cops rumbled me. I outran them, but I think they must know what I look like.”

  “If they know what you look like, they know who you are. Who’s Butch?”

  “A guy I knew in the joint. He put me on to the place at the Fairleigh.”

  “What’s the Fairleigh?”

  He told her the story.

  “Sounds like they’ve got cameras there, too.”

  “I guess.”

  “What did you hope to find there?”

  “Butch and I stole some checks and cleared three hundred grand with them.”

  “And now you’re skint? What happened to the money?”

  Curly looked sheepish. “The ponies took it from me.”

  “You’re starting to look like a bad risk, Marv. I think you’d better get out of town—for a long time.”