“I must tell you, I am uncomfortable with this.”
Bianchi held up a hand. “I understand completely.” He reached into the ticket pocket in his jacket, produced a card, and handed it to Stone.
Stone examined it. It contained only a Manhattan telephone number.
“If you should feel you need my…advice, please telephone this number and leave a recorded message. Someone representing me will be in touch.”
Stone pocketed the card and gave Bianchi his own, which seemed only courteous, in the circumstances.
“I will wait to hear from you before making inquiries,” Bianchi said. “Shall we join the others?” He replenished their glasses, and they walked slowly toward the door. “Perhaps, if you will permit me, I will just speak a name to you. The name is Judson Palmer.”
“It doesn’t ring a bell,” Stone said.
“Mr. Palmer is a minor theatrical producer,” Bianchi said, taking Stone’s arm.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“It was he who was having an affair with Mitteldorfer’s wife when she was murdered.”
“Does Mitteldorfer know who he is?”
“That is uncertain.”
“Thank you.”
Bianchi stopped walking. “Stone—may I call you Stone?”
“Of course.”
“And please call me Eduardo.”
“Thank you.”
“I have very much enjoyed our evening together. I don’t go out much since my wife’s death, but it would please me if you would accept another invitation to dinner here.”
“Thank you, Eduardo; I’d be very pleased to come.”
The two men walked back to the small sitting room and joined the others. A large woman in an old-fashioned black dress had joined the group.
“Allow me to introduce my sister, Rosaria,” Bianchi said.
Stone took her hand. “Dinner was a wonderful experience,” he said. The woman blushed. Bianchi sat next to her.
Stone chose a seat as far as possible from Dolce Bianchi.
30
D INO SLAMMED THE CAR DOOR. “ALL right, what went on in that room? You came back arm in arm with him; I’ve seen that before, and it means he wants something from you. What did he want? What did you give him?”
“Dino,” Stone said, starting the car and driving away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“What did Eduardo talk about? That’s what I want to know.”
Stone shrugged. “He seemed to want to get to know me a little. Maybe that’s why he invited me to dinner.”
“Eduardo never has reasons as simple as that for doing anything. In all the time I’ve known him, you’re the first person I’ve ever seen sit at that table who wasn’t family.”
“Speaking of family, why did you never tell me that Mary Ann had such a beautiful sister?”