Son of Stone (Stone Barrington 21)

“Remember the cop Dino Bacchetti was there?”

“Yeah; he almost always is.”

“And who’s the good-looking guy he hangs with?”

“That’s Stone Barrington. All the girls at the bar want to screw him.”

“Who is he?”

“Lawyer, sort of a fix-it guy for Woodman amp; Weld.”

“What does he fix?”

“Whatever needs fixing, I guess.”

“Is he married?”

“No, famous bachelor. What, you want to screw him, too?”

“Not that I would mind, but no. We have a picture of somebody who looks like him standing in line for a marriage license the other day.”

“That would definitely not be Stone Barrington; he’d rather be struck by lightning.”

“There were some other people with him and Dino that night-a woman and a couple of kids.”

“One of the kids was Dino’s son-I don’t know his name. No idea who the others were.”

“Thanks, sweetie.” Kelli hung up. Her stomach growled; it was nearly eight p.m. She turned to her computer and wrote: “Item: At whose marriage did the mayor officiate at Eduardo Bianchi’s house on Christmas Day? We thought Hizzoner didn’t hitch folks.”

She printed it out and dropped it in the day editor’s in-box on the way to the elevator. She pressed the down button and waited, then the day editor appeared with a sheet of paper in his hand and thrust it at her.

“This won’t fly,” he said.

“Why not? My source is good.”

“You don’t fuck with him.”

“The mayor? We fuck with him all the time.”

“That’s right, you’re new in town, aren’t you? We don’t fuck with Eduardo Bianchi. Nobody in this city does.” He turned and went back to his desk, and Kelli followed him.

“So who the fuck is Eduardo Bianchi,” she demanded, “that we can’t fuck with him? I thought we could fuck with anybody, if the source was good.”

“Almost anybody,” the editor said, sinking into his chair. “We don’t fuck with Rupert Murdoch, and we don’t fuck with Eduardo Bianchi.”

She started to ask why, but he held up a hand.

“Don’t ask,” he said. “Ever.”

Kelli walked back to the elevator, fuming, and rode down to the lobby. She went outside and threw herself in front of a cab. “Eightyeighth and Second Avenue,” she said to the driver. All the way uptown she turned the thing over in her mind. By the time she got to Elaine’s she was determined to get to the bottom of this.

She walked in and was greeted by Gianni, one of the two headwaiters. She ordered a drink at the bar, then grabbed Gianni’s sleeve when he came back from seating a party. “Gianni, you know everything; who were those people with Dino and Stone the other night?”

“What people are those?” Gianni asked.

“A beautiful blond woman and a couple of kids, one of them Dino’s.”

Gianni looked at her evenly for a moment. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” he said.