“Nobody ever said that to me before,” Dino said, drawing another laugh.
Stone thought the evening was going particularly well. Then he looked up and saw Frank and Margaret Wilkes come into the restaurant, followed closely by a woman Stone did not know, and then, by Paul Bartlett. No one else at the table had seen them, but Stone caught Dino’s eye and nodded in their direction.
Dino watched the tall man hold a chair for his companion, then sit down. “I would never have made him as Manning,” Dino whispered. “He must have done something to his face.”
Stone slipped the little cell phone off his belt, cupped it in his hand to hide it as well as possible, and dialed Dan Griggs’s direct office number, which also rang at his home.
“Yes?” Griggs said.
“Dan, it’s Stone. I’m at La Reserve, and Bartlett is here with Frank Wilkes and his wife and another woman.”
“Have you talked to Lundquist?” Griggs asked.
“No.”
“The Minneapolis Police Department arrested a known car thief and insurance scam artist who, for immunity, told them Bartlett had hired him to fix his wife’s seat belt. Apparently, they met in prison, during Bartlett’s earlier existence, and he’ll testify against Bartlett. Have they just sat down to eat?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll get ahold of Lundquist and put some people together, and we’ll take him when they leave. I don’t want to cause a scene in the restaurant. Let me give you my portable number.”
Stone wrote it down.
“Call that number when they get their check. That way I won’t have to send people in to watch him. He’s pretty edgy; he might catch on to that.”
“I’ll do it,” Stone said. “I imagine you have a good hour and a half.”
“See you later.”
Stone put the phone away and saw Thad looking at him inquiringly. “It’s nothing,” he said.
Their dinner arrived, and everyone ate heartily, still in high spirits from the champagne. They had just finished their dessert, and their dishes were being taken away, when Stone looked up to see Lieutenant Ebbe Lundquist enter the restaurant, flash his badge at the maître d’ and take up a position at the bar. Stone looked at Bartlett. He had seen the badge and was now staring at Lundquist, who in his plaid polyester suit looked out of place in the elegant restaurant.
Stone glanced at Dino, who had already taken this in.
“That’s one really stupid cop,” Dino said quietly.
Stone looked over at Bartlett’s table and saw the waiter approaching with the check. “Excuse me a minute,” Stone said to the table. “I’ll be right back.”
He rose and made his way across the restaurant to where the Wilkeses and Bartlett were sitting.
Frank Wilkes rose to greet him. “Stone,” he said, “how good to see you.”
Stone shook his hand as Bartlett, too, rose, buttoning his jacket.
“Hello, Stone,” he said. “How are you?” He introduced his companion.
“How do you do? Good evening, Paul. Please sit down.” Stone caught sight of the bulge under Bartlett’s jacket.
“Frank, Margaret, I just wanted to thank you for such a delightful dinner the other evening,” Stone said. “It was very kind of you to ask Callie and me.”
“We were very glad to have you,” Margaret Wilkes said, “and we hope you’ll come again.”
Stone caught sight of Lundquist moving down the bar.
“I see you’re about to leave,” Stone said to Wilkes. “Please let me send over some after-dinner drinks before you go.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but summoned a nearby waiter and told him to bring the Wilkes party whatever they wanted and to send the bill to him. That would keep them in their seats for another few minutes, Stone thought. He made his goodbyes and, instead of returning to his table, walked toward the front of the restaurant and the men’s room, dialing Dan Griggs’s cell phone number on the way. He caught Dino’s eye and patted his side, where Bartlett was wearing the gun. As he passed the bar, he caught Lundquist’s eye, frowned and shook his head, whispering loudly, “Stay where you are.”
He pressed the send button on the phone as he turned a corner, out of sight of Bartlett. Griggs answered immediately.