“A massage emergency?” Dino asked.
“It’s a long story.”
Dino turned and glanced at Stone. “People say that when they don’t want to talk about something.”
Marilyn laughed. “You are quick, Dino. Stone, I’ll see you tomorrow morning at ten.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
“I can’t wait to get my hands on you.” She gave a little wave and hurried away.
“Ask her if she makes calls at police stations,” Dino said.
9
Stone slept a little later than usual. At nine Joan buzzed him.
“Mmmf,” Stone said.
“Rough night?”
“No, I have a masseuse coming at ten, so it’s hardly worth getting out of bed.”
“A Mr. Bernard Finger called and left a message before I got in. Do you know him?”
“He’s a lawyer. I met him once, at the courthouse; he was defending a drug dealer. It’s probably about the Dattila thing.”
“So, Mr. Dattila is responding?”
“I’m not going to count on it. I’ll call him back later; don’t want to look too anxious.”
“Right.”
“Will you send the lady up when she arrives? Her name is Marilyn.”
“Wilco.”
“I love it when you talk pilot.” He hung up, turned over and went back to sleep. The phone buzzed again; Stone picked it up. “What?”
“It’s ten forty-five, and she hasn’t shown.”
“Ah, okay. I’ll deal with it.” He rolled out of bed, went to his dressing room, rummaged through the contents of his pockets dumped on the dresser top the night before and found Marilyn’s card. He went back, sat on the bed and dialed her number. There came back a loud squawk and a mechanical voice: “The number you have dialed is not in service; please check the number and dial again.”
He must have dialed a wrong digit, he thought, and he dialed again; same result. Very peculiar. By the time he had showered, shaved and dressed it seemed very, very peculiar. He went down to his office and called Bernard Finger.
“Stone Barrington!” Finger shouted into the phone, as if they were long-lost friends. Finger was a large, voluble man.
“Good morning, Mr. Finger. You rang?”
“Call me Bernie!” Finger shouted. “Everybody does! And I’ll call you Stoney!”
“Over my dead body,” Stone replied.
“Ha! My client can arrange that!” He dissolved in loud guffaws.
“And your client is…?”
“You’ve met him, Stone. Is that better?”