“Sorry about your nose,” Stone said. He took care not to sound as if he meant it.
4
S TONE WAS AWAKENED BY A RINGING telephone. He rolled over, opened an eye, and looked at the bedside clock. Just past ten. He sat up on one elbow. He had been wide-awake until at least four, unable to sleep with the picture of Susan Bean’s body stuck in his mind. Finally, he had drifted off and overslept. He picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“It’s Dino.”
“Morning.”
“You get any sleep?”
“Some. You find anything in Susan’s office?”
“Everything was neat as a pin, just like the apartment; nothing missing that anybody could figure. Brougham was pretty upset. Apparently, he depended on her a lot.”
“Anything on the murder?”
“Nothing yet, but whoever used the elevator when you came back was the perp. Nobody else in the building had budged from their apartments.”
“Not that it does us any good.”
“No. There were no prints, no evidence of any kind.”
“He had to have a lot of blood on him,” Stone said.
“You’re right, but the patrol cars didn’t come across anybody. Listen, there’s something else.”
“What?”
“Where’s Alma?”
Alma was Stone’s secretary, who had worked for him almost since the moment he had begun to practice law, after leaving the NYPD. “She should be in her office,” Stone replied.
“Put me on hold and call down there,” Dino said.
Stone pressed the HOLD button, then dialed Alma’s extension. There was no answer. He pressed line one again. “She’s not answering. She worked late last night, typing up a brief for me, so she could have overslept, I guess.”
“A woman matching her description was attacked on the sidewalk in your block last night sometime after midnight, when we were at the Bean apartment. She took something like a claw hammer in the head.”
Stone sat up and put his feet on the floor. “Where is she and how bad?”
“Lenox Hill, and it doesn’t look good. Does she have any family?”
“A sister in Westchester, and that’s it,” Stone said.
“She wasn’t carrying any ID, but she was wearing a Cartier watch that sounds like the one you gave her.”
“I’ll get up to Lenox Hill right now,” Stone said.
“Let me know if it’s Alma,” Dino replied, then hung up.
Stone got dressed in a hurry, gave his bloody clothes from the night before to his housekeeper to take to the cleaner’s, took a cab up to Lenox Hill Hospital, and presented himself at the main desk.
“My name is Stone Barrington,” he told the woman behind the desk. “The police called me this morning to say that a woman answering the description of my secretary was admitted last night with a head wound. I’d like to see her right away.”
“Just a minute, please,” the woman said. She dialed a number and spoke for a moment, then hung up. “Dr. Thompson will be with you in just a minute,” she said. “Please have a seat.”