47
An hour later, Stone came back downstairs. Stendahl was back at the bar, sucking on a piña colada, and across the room, Hilary Kramer of the Times and Jim Forrester of The New Yorker were sharing a table. He walked over to them. “Mind if I join you?” he asked.
“Not at all,” Hilary replied. “Sit down.”
“Jim,” Stone said, “did you by any chance get a good look at the man at the bar?”
Forrester looked that way. “The big guy? Nope.”
“I wonder if you’d do me a favor.”
“What?”
“Go over there and strike up a conversation with the guy, then come back and tell me what you think. Shouldn’t be too difficult; he seems to be pretty outgoing.”
Forrester shrugged. “Okay.” He walked over to the bar, ordered a drink, and in a moment was engaged in conversation with Stendahl.
“What’s that all about?” Kramer asked.
“I just want to know who the guy is,” Stone replied. “He seems to have come down here just to attend the trial.”
“A camp follower?”
“Maybe, but whose camp?”
“Well, Jim will worm it out of him; h
e’s endlessly curious, a typical reporter—asks hundreds of questions, answers few.”
“I haven’t found him to be particularly closemouthed,” Stone said. “He doesn’t talk much to you, huh?”
“Maybe he’s gay,” Kramer said.
“Doesn’t seem so, but I guess you never know for sure. Have your charms been wasted on him?”
She smiled. “Let’s just say that I’ve told him a lot more than he’s told me. I envy him one thing, though.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s got the best memory of any reporter I’ve ever met. Either that, or he’s just too sloppy to take notes.”
“Well, he’s a magazine writer, been doing travel stuff,” Stone said. “He’s not the died-in-the-wool Front Page type, like you.”
“Like me?” she asked, surprised.
“You’re a regular Hildy Parks,” Stone said.
She laughed again, then she looked at him sharply. “Stone, while I’m in my Hildy mode, did you really just stumble into the Allison Manning mess, or is there something more to it?”
Stone raised his right hand. “Stumbled, honest.”
“You were just down here all on your own?”
“Wasn’t supposed to be that way.”
“How was it supposed to be?”
“Want me to cry in your beer?”