“Well,” she began, then stopped. “First, I have something to give you,” she said, opening her handbag.
Stone watched her, baffled, as she came up with a gold-plated.38 Detective Special with a snub-nosed barrel.
“Could you do something with this, please?” she asked, pointing it at him, as if to shoot.
Stone grabbed the weapon. “Bernice,” he said, “please don’t tell me you…” He flipped open the cylinder of the gun and found it fully loaded. Two of the cartridges had been fired. “Oh, no,” he said, half to himself.
“I shot them both,” she said, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
“Oh, no,” he said, this time aloud.
“But I missed,” she said. “I scared the shit out of them, though.” She smiled.
Stone let go the breath he had been holding. “I expect you did,” he said. “Did Bernie call the police?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “That was a couple of hours ago, and nobody’s tried to arrest me.”
Stone nodded. “And what are your intentions now?”
“I believe I’m ready to proceed with the divorce.”
“Really? No backing out this time?”
“I give you my word.”
Stone looked at his watch. “Just a moment.” He rose, went to his desk and picked up the phone. “Get me Sam Teich at Bernie Finger’s office,” he said to Joan. A long moment passed, then Joan came back. “He’s on line one,” she said.
Stone picked up the phone and pushed the button. “Good afternoon, Sam.”
“Good afternoon, Stone. I’ve been expecting your call; Bernie’s here with me. I want you to know, up front, that Bernie has no intention of pressing criminal charges.”
“That’s awfully sweet of Bernie,” Stone said.
“Are the figures we talked about before still acceptable?”
“Hardly,” Stone said, “but I’ll tell you what I’ll do: Add fifty percent to the cash amounts in the agreement, have it retyped, have Bernie sign it before a notary, send the signed deeds for the real estate and a cashier’s check for the money over here by close of business, and we’re done.”
“Just a minute.” He covered the phone with his hand for a minute, then came back. “We’ll need a nondisclosure agreement,” he said. “Bernie doesn’t want to read about this on Page Six of the Post.”
“That’s acceptable,” Stone said.
“I already have everything but the cashier’s check and the retyped agreement. You’ll have it all in two hours.”
“Thank you, Sam. Best to Bernie.” He hung up and turned to Bernice Finger. “We have a firm agreement,” he said. “Everything will be here in a couple of hours. We’ll process the check, deduct our fee, according to our agreement, and issue you a cashier’s check from my account first thing tomorrow morning. All we need do then is present the signed agreement to a judge with a joint petition for a decree. And remember, you can’t tell a soul what you got in the agreement. It’s big trouble if you do.”
Bernice Finger pressed a hand to her ample bosom. “Oh, that’s such a relief,” she said. She stood up. “Well, I’ll look forward to receiving my check in the morning.”
Stone walked her to the front door. “Bernice, I hope I don’t have to put you under armed guard to prevent another trip to Vegas.”
She laughed aloud. “Fat chance!” she said, then walked to her waiting car, where the chauffeur was braced with the door open, got in and was driven away.
Stone went back inside. “Were you listening on the phone?”
“Oh, yes,” Joan said. “That was thrilling.”
“Call the bank and tell them we’re making a late deposit, a cashier’s check, and we want the funds cleared immediately. When it clears, deduct our fee and messenger Mrs. Finger a cashier’s check for the balance, along with the property deeds, then write yourself a bonus check for ten thousand dollars.”
Joan came to attention and saluted. “Yes, sir!”