“What does ‘cleared’ mean?”
“Well, in this case, he didn’t make an arrest.”
“You mean, Ed Abney is still free?”
“Ed Abney is dead. He shot himself when Dino went to arrest him.”
“Oh, God,” she said, putting a hand to her face. “I’m never going to have to be afraid of him again.”
“That’s right, and it’s a good thing, too. Abney nearly killed a female NYPD detective last night. She’s recovering in the hospital, be out in a few days.”
Joan came into the garden with some letters. “Marla, your neighbor dropped off your mail. There was something hand-delivered, too.” She handed the packet to Marla.
Marla opened the hand-delivered envelope first. “It’s from Bright Lights, Ink,” she said.
“Are you their client?”
“They’re publicists for the show I just finished.”
“What does it say?”
“I’ll read it to you:
Dear Marla,
We want to tell you about a big change at Bright Lights, Ink. Ed Abney is no longer in charge. As a matter of fact, it has been some years since Ed did any active publicity work for the company. Senior staff did the work, and Ed took the credit.
For our existing clients, like you, our work will continue as usual, but Ed is gone. Police went to his East Hampton home this morning to arrest him on charges of the murder of a woman and assault on a police officer. Rather than go to jail, Ed took his own life. The newspapers and TV will give you the details.
I have been with the agency for twelve years, and I am its new president. I will take great pleasure in seeing that your account is handled in an outstanding and personal fashion. If you have any questions or requests, please call me, day or night.
“It’s signed by Margie, his secretary. She’s a terrific lady, and I always thought she was the brains there.”
“Then she still is,” Stone said.
“I’ve got some news for you,” she said.
“I hope it’s good news.”
“I hope it is, too. This morning I read your son Peter’s play, the one he produced at Yale last winter.” She tapped the script in her lap.
“Did you get the script from my study?”
“No, my agent had it hand-delivered to me this morning. It’s coming to Broadway, and I’ve been asked if I have any interest in directing it.”
“Do you?”
“Let me ask you a question first. Does Peter know that you and I are… friends?”
“No, that’s such a recent event that I haven’t had time to tell him yet.”
“Did you suggest to someone that I direct it?”
“No. Peter told me when the play opened at Yale that there was talk of a New York production, but I haven’t heard anything about it since, until now.”
“Do you want me to direct it?”
“Apparently Peter does, or they wouldn’t have contacted you. My opinion doesn’t enter into it. For my part, if you choose to direct it, I’ll be happy for you both.”