“Bill, I might have something for you on that mahogany secretary you’re interested in.”
“Tell me.”
“Do you know a guy named Charlie Crow?”
“Yeah, I’m doing some work on a deal between Crow and Harlan Deal.”
“He may have what you’re looking for.”
“Okay, I’ll call him.”
“Bye-bye.” Stone hung up. He would be very interested to know the result of Eggers’s call to Crow.
41
Stone and Dino were having dinner at Elaine’s when Barton Cabot walked in. Stone pushed back a chair for him.
“I thought I might find you here,” Barton said.
Stone gave him a menu and waved at a waiter. Barton ordered a drink and some dinner.
“Why were you looking for me?” Stone asked.
“I need a bed, and I wondered if you could put me up for the night.”
“Sure, but what happened to Carla’s bed?”
“The girl wore me out, and I don’t think I could have survived another night with her right away, so I told her I’m driving back to Connecticut tonight. I’m too tired for that, though.” His drink arrived and he sipped it gratefully.
“More news from today’s events,” Stone said.
“What?”
“Charlie Crow drove up to Bristol, Rhode Island, and visited the home of a woman named Mrs. Caleb Strong.”
“Mildred? I know her.”
“Why on earth would Charlie Crow be visiting a woman in her nineties in Bristol, Rhode Island?”
“Well, let me tell you about Mildred. She is the grande dame of Rhode Island society, at the very top of the ladder, but she’s penniless, for all practical purposes. Lots of assets, no cash to speak of, just the dividends on some bank stock she owns. She also has a house full of authentic and gorgeous things that have been handed down in the Strong family for more than two hundred years. We’re talking about pieces that have been in the same house for that long, and they’re worth, probably, many millions of dollars. Dealers have been circling her home for years, like vultures, waiting for her to die, but she seems to be in rude good health, and she won’t even talk to them let alone sell anything.”
“Doesn’t she have any children or grandchildren?”
“No, old Caleb was the last of the Strong line, and she’s outlived all the members of her own family. Nobody even knows who her heirs are. Museums have been kowtowing to her for decades, hoping to pull in her collection when she goes, but she won’t tell them anything.”
“The question now arises,” Stone said, “why is she talking to Charlie Crow? He spent a good two hours in her house today. What could he possibly have to offer her?”
“Now, that’s a very interesting question,” Barton said, sipping his drink. “What could a jerk like Charlie Crow have to offer Mildred Strong?”
Dino spoke up. “Money? You said she was penniless.”
“Yes, sort of, but she’s not without assets besides her furniture. Her husband was a founding investor in a thriving local bank up there, and she’s never sold any of his stock. Rumor has it that she has fifty-one percent, but nobody knows for sure. The bank has no choice but to carry her. If she writes a check, they pay it, and she must have a very big overdraft by now.”
“How do they explain that to the bank examiners?” Stone asked.
“I suppose the bank’s board members must be putting their own funds in her account to keep her in the black. They certainly don’t want to piss her off, because she holds all that stock. She could sell it to one of the big banking conglomerates in a heartbeat, and the board would suddenly find themselves out of their cushy seats and into the street. So they pay her checks.”
“I wish I had that kind of a relationship with a bank,” Dino said.