Worst Fears Realized (28 page)
The memory of their last time together flooded back. They had been in the bedroom of a Bel-Air Hotel suite, and Arrington had been naked. “Oh, the usual”, he said. “A little work, a little play.”
“How is Dino?” she asked.
“Very angry; he doesn’t like his family being in danger.”
She nodded. “And Elaine?”
“Exactly the same.”
“Give them both my love, will you?”
“I will.”
There was a long silence; Stone struggled to find something to say. “Are you writing?” he asked, finally.
“I started a novel, but after a couple of chapters I sort of gave up on it.”
“Don’t give up. You’d write a very fine novel; you have all the skills.”
“I don’t know that I’m cut out to be a novelist,” she said.
“Why not?”
“I think that, in order to write a good novel, you have to be able to face reality, and I’m not very good at that.”
“What is it about reality that you find so hard to face?”
“The reality is that I want to be with you.”
That sucked the wind right out of Stone; he was unable to respond.
“I think about you all the time; about having dinner with you and Dino and Elaine; about living in your house; about making love to you; I think about that a lot.”
Stone put down his coffee and massaged his temples. This was pretty much all he had thought about, until recently. Now she was here. What was he going to do about it?
“Do you think about me?”
“Yes.”
She moved closer. “Do you think about making love to me?”
“Yes.”
She sat up on her knees on the sofa and ran a hand through his hair. With her other hand, she pulled loose the tie of his robe and ran her hand inside.
Stone took her hand and put his on her shoulder, then took her into his arms and kissed her face. “Don’t,” he said. “It’s too painful.”
“I want the pain to stop,” she said. “I want you.”
“You know very well that I want you, too.”
“Then I’m yours.”
Stone took a deep breath. “No,” he said, “you’re not.”
“I want to be yours again.”
“I can’t let myself want that.”
“Why not? We can have each other.”
“No, we can’t.” Stone could not believe he was saying this.
“I’ll come back to New York; I’ll get a divorce. I should never have married Vance.”
“But you did.”
“I made a stupid mistake,” she said. “Do I have to pay for it the rest of my life?”
“We both do.”
“I want to come back, Stone.”
“You can’t take Vance’s son away from him; I won’t be a party to that.”
“Then I’ll leave Peter with Vance. I can still see him.”
“Arrington, I saw you with that baby last night; you love being his mother, and if I came between you, you’d end up hating me for it.”
“I want you more.”
“No, you don’t.”
She sat up and pulled his robe open. “Make love to me,” she said. She ran her hands down his body and kissed him on the neck and shoulders. “Just this once; make love to me. Then, if you still want me to go, I will.”
Stone took her shoulders and held her away from him. “Listen to me,” he said. “I’ve done things in my life I’m not proud of, but I’ve never been an adulterer, and I’m not going to start now—not even with you, in spite of the fact that I’ve loved you more than any woman I’ve ever known. I just can’t do it.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Stone, I love you.”
“Arrington, some part of me will
always
love you.”
“Then why can’t we be together?”
“We both made choices that we’re going to have to learn to live with.”
“I was living with them until I saw you last night,” Arrington said. “Really, I was.”
“Then you can do it again.” Stone stood up and pulled her to her feet. “You have to go home, now.” He walked her slowly toward the door, his arm around her. She was still crying. On the way to the door, Stone grabbed a handful of tissues from a box on an end table.
At the open door, she turned and faced him. “Don’t send me away; please don’t do that.”
“You have to go,” he said.
“You don’t really want me to go.” She sobbed.
He dabbed at her eyes with the tissues. “What I want doesn’t matter anymore.”
She took the tissues and blew her nose loudly. “Kiss me goodbye?”
He took her face in his hands and kissed her lips lightly. “Goodbye, sweet girl,” he said.
She turned and ran for the Range Rover parked in his drive. In a moment, she had driven away.
Stone walked back into the house and closed the door, trying hard to swallow the lump in his throat. Then he heard a car door slam outside.
Oh, God, he thought, she’s come back, and I won’t be able to send her away again.
He went and opened the front door, ready to take her in his arms. Vance Calder stood on the little porch. “Hello, Stone,” he said.
“Hello, Vance,” Stone said weakly. “Will you come in?”
“No,” Vance replied. “I just want to know if I have anything to worry about from you.”
Stone shook his head. “No, Vance, you don’t.”
Vance took a deep breath. “Thank you for that,” he said.
“Just try to find a way to make her happy.”
Vance nodded, squeezed Stone’s shoulder, went back to his car, and drove away.
Stone went back inside, hoping that every Sunday morning in Connecticut was not going to be as hard as this one.
S
TONE LOCKED UP THE HOUSE, GOT INTO
his car, and drove away. He wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing about Arrington, and it was killing him. He kept thinking about what it would be like to have her back again; then he would think about her son and his father and come back to the same place. When he had reached Pleasantville, he called Dino.
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Stone.”
“Where are you?”
“On the Saw Mill River Parkway. Can you meet me at P.J. Clarke’s in an hour?”
“What’s up?”
“I’ve got a lead.”
“From where?”
“Don’t ask, just be there, and for Christ’s sake, be sure you aren’t followed.”
“Awright in an hour at Clarke’s.”
He was in Yonkers when the car phone rang. “Hello?”
“Stone, it’s Bill Eggers.”
“Hi, Bill.”
“We have to talk, and we can’t do it on a car phone.”
“What’s up?”
“Let’s meet somewhere; when are you due back in the city?”
“I’m meeting Dino at Clarke’s in half an hour; you want to join me?”
“That’s fine; this concerns him, too. I’ll see you in half an hour.” He hung up.
Stone punched the phone off. Now what?
Back in the city, he found a parking spot near Clarke’s, then went inside. Dino was already halfway through a scotch.
“Hey,” Dino said.
“How was your weekend?”
“Lousy; how was yours?”
“Don’t ask,” Stone replied.
“What’s this about a lead?”
Stone took the paper from his pocket. “I’ve got two names that Mitteldorfer was friendly with in Sing Sing.” He handed it to Dino. “They’re both on parole, and they’ve got the same Manhattan parole officer. Tomorrow morning, will you give him a call and find out where they are? I’d like to talk to them with you.”
“You bet your ass,” Dino said. “It’s about time we got somewhere with this.”
“Here comes Bill Eggers,” Stone said, nodding at the door. “He wants to talk to us about something; I don’t know what.”
Bill greeted the two men. “It’s running onto dinnertime,” he said. “Why don’t we get a table?”
“Sure,” Stone said.
They sat down and ordered steaks, home fries, and beer.
“So, what’s up, Bill? You sounded depressed on the phone.”
“I am,” Bill said. “I got a call this afternoon from a friend in the DA’s office; Marty Brougham is taking the Susan Bean murder to a grand jury this week.”
“Then he must have a suspect,” Stone said.
“He does. You. You’re going to be subpoenaed.”
“First I’ve heard about this,” Dino said, “and the case is in my office. I smell something funny.”
“Look,” Stone said, “I don’t mind being subpoenaed; I’ll testify to what I know without a subpoena. In fact, I’ve already told Brougham I’d do so.”
“Stone, you’re a target; I can’t let you testify before a grand jury.”
“So, I should take the Fifth? How would that look?”
“It’s how this is going to look that bothers me,” Bill said.
“Sorry,” Dino said, “I’m confused. I’m pretty well versed on this case, having arrived half an hour after the murder and having heard Stone give a statement to two of my detectives. What does Marty know that I don’t know? Stone, is there something you haven’t told me?”
“Absolutely not,” Stone said. “I’m not holding anything back.”
“Then he must have a witness,” Bill said. “Otherwise, why would you be a target of the investigation?”
“A witness to what?” Stone said.
“Look,” Dino said, “I’m happy to go down to the grand jury and tell them that my squad conducted a thorough investigation and that we cleared Stone.”
“Then Marty will ask you about your relationship with Stone, and he’ll discredit your testimony, because you’re former partners and close friends. Anyway, he’s not going to call you, because you wouldn’t help his case.”
“This just doesn’t add up,” Stone said. “Marty must know that he can’t get an indictment of me.”
“A good prosecutor can get anything he wants from a grand jury,” Bill said.
“But he couldn’t get a conviction, so why get an indictment?”
“There are two things here,” Bill said. “One, he could have a witness to cast doubt on your story, or even to claim you murdered the girl.”
“Then that would either be a perjurer or a frame-up,” Dino said. “Or both.”
“Right,” Bill said. “The other thing is, suppose he thinks this case isn’t going to be solved, so he wants to feed somebody to the press as the murderer. The day after your testimony, I can see a headline in the
News
that you’re the chief suspect, but that they don’t have enough evidence to indict you,
yet.”
“Oh, shit,” Dino said.
“Well, Dino,” Bill said, “at least
you’re
getting the picture.”
“But that won’t wash,” Stone said.
“It’ll wash with enough people to ruin you in this town,” Dino said.
“And,” Eggers chipped in, “it would end your usefulness to Woodman and Weld. The firm couldn’t be seen to employ—even on an occasional basis—the chief suspect in a gaudy murder.”
Dino put down his glass. “You’d be the new O.J.”
Stone sat and thought about this, ignoring his steak. “Martin Brougham doesn’t strike me as that malicious,” he said. “So who is?”
Dino’s eyebrow’s went up. “I smell Tom Deacon.”
“Who’s Tom Deacon?” Bill asked.
“He runs the DA’s investigative division, under Marty, and he doesn’t like Stone and me.”
“Oh.”
“Something else,” Dino said. “Marty wants to be the next DA. He might like a flashy case to help imprint himself on the voters’ frontal lobes.”
“That all makes sense,” Bill said. “You think this Deacon guy is just trying to make himself look good?”
“I think that fits right in with his character,” Dino replied. “He knows a few reporters; he could make himself look good and Stone look bad. It would be easy.”
Stone spoke up. “I’ve already told him that if he did something like that, I’d sue him for libel.”
“It could come to that,” Bill said. “How much faith do you think Brougham has in Tom Deacon?”
“A lot,” Dino said. “If he’s willing to put Stone through this on Deacon’s say-so.”
“We need other witnesses besides you, Dino, witnesses from the NYPD. Are you the actual investigating officer on the Susan Bean Murder?”
“No,” Stone answered for him. “That would be Andy Anderson and Michael Kelly.”
Dino shook his head slowly “No, not Kelly; not anymore.”
“What, did you kick him out of the precinct?” Stone asked.
“No, he left voluntarily.”
“Congratulations,” Stone said. “I don’t expect you’ll miss the little prick.”
“He went to work for the investigative division of the DA’s office,” Dino said. “Starting tomorrow morning.”
“So,” Bill said, “we could have one of the investigative officers on the case testifying against Stone?”
“What could he possibly say?” Stone asked. “Anyway, Dino and Andy Anderson could refute any lies.”
“I don’t like any of this,” Eggers said, “so what I’m going to try to do is to nip it in the bud.”
“How?” Stone asked.
“I’m going to go see Marty Brougham tonight, at home, if he’s in, and try to straighten this out. Can either of you think of anything else that might help me do that?”
Stone sipped his beer thoughtfully. “There was something that Susan Bean said to me. I didn’t give it much thought at the time.”
“What did she say?” Eggers asked.
“We were walking up Madison Avenue, just chatting, and I congratulated her on her team’s getting a conviction in the Dante case.”
“Is that the Mafia guy?”
“Right. She didn’t seem all that thrilled to have won it, which surprised me; I would have thought she’d have been walking on air.”
“What, exactly, did she say about it?”
“She said she was happy to have won, but she didn’t like the way they’d won it.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Eggers mulled this over. “So there might have been some sort of prosecutorial misconduct during the trial?”
“That could be what she meant.”
“You have any idea what kind of misconduct?”
“No, but the very mention of it to Brougham might have some sort of effect.”
“Maybe so,” Eggers said. “It might give him pause about a subpoena if he thought you might testify about something like that. It’s not much, but it might help as a bargaining chip.”
“I wish I had more to tell you,” Stone said. He turned to Dino. “There are cops on the DA’s investigative staff, aren’t there?”
“Sure; Deacon is a cop.”
“You know anybody in Internal Affairs that you might interest in an investigation of the evidence in the Dante case?”