“No.”
“Then all we know is that a woman called and left a message and said to put the initial ‘A.’ on it.”
“You should have been a lawyer.”
“You should be a better one.”
“All right, all right.”
“You know any other women whose names start with an ‘A’ and who’ve been to Elaine’s?”
“Possibly; I can’t think of any at the moment.” He could think of two.
“What kind of food does Elaine’s serve?”
“Italian.”
“Any wiseguys ever go there?”
“All the time.”
“So we don’t know but that one of them dropped the matchbook in the storeroom.”
“You’d make a fine lawyer but a lousy detective. Didn’t you ever hear of a hunch?”
“I’m a woman.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot.”
Her hand wandered onto his thigh. “I guess I’m going to have to reimpress you with the fact.” She began unzipping his fly.
“Uh, Betty, can we wait a few minutes?” They were on the freeway now.
“I’m an impatient woman,” she said, freeing him.
“Jesus,” he breathed as she arranged herself with her head in his lap.
I’m driving up the freeway, he thought, and…he made a noise…and I hope the cops don’t pull us over. He kept to the speed limit as best he could, under the circumstances.
13
Stone got to the studio on time the following morning, but he was tired; between Betty’s attentions and thinking about the events of the night before, he hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep. He was in the makeup chair when the assistant director came in.
“Morning, Stone; good news: so you’ve only one more scene to shoot.”
“I thought I was working for four days,” Stone said, surprised.
“They’ve done some doctoring for time on the script, so you’ve just got one scene left—your closing statement to the jury, then a quick pickup to get your reaction when the verdict comes in.”
“Whatever you say,” Stone said, picking up his script. He thought he knew the speech, but he hadn’t expected to give it today; by the time he was dressed and on the set, though, he felt ready. Vance was nowhere to be seen, but since the scene was Stone’s alone he was not surprised. He rehearsed the scene once, then did a take.
“Cut, print,” the director said. “That was great, Stone, now let’s get your reaction to the verdict.”
Surprised, Stone sat down at the prosecution table and tried to look pissed off when the bailiff read the verdict.
“That’s a wrap for Stone,” the director said. He came over, shook Stone’s hand, and thanked him for his work. “I’ll send you a videotape when we’re done. Take care.”
Stone stood up; it was not yet ten o’clock. Vance came onto the set and strode toward him, smiling, his hand out. “I hear you were great,” he said, then, still holding Stone’s hand, he pulled him to a corner of the court set. “Great news,” he said. “Arrington called last night.”