“You’ll hear from me if the money isn’t there.”
“I’d rather not hear from you again, Marie-Thérèse.”
“What about your bill?”
“Consider my services pro bono,” Stone said. “Now please disappear, and have a happy life.”
“Check your coat pocket,” she said. “And thank you for your help, Stone.” She hung up.
Stone felt his pockets. There was something in one of them. He reached in and pulled out an envelope. Inside was a thick wad of one-hundred-dollar bills.
“Looks like about ten grand,” Dino said. “Don’t forget to report it on your tax return. And you’re buying dinner tonight.”
46
Stone and Dino had just sat down at Elaine’s, when Carpenter walked in.
Dino waved her to a seat. Stone ignored her greeting.
“Whatever Dino’s having,” she said to a waiter.
“A nice single malt, on Stone,” Dino said.
“Quite a day, eh?” Carpenter said. The waiter set down her drink, and she raised her glass. “To a job well done by the firm of Barrington and Bacchetti.”
Dino raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
Stone left his glass on the table.
“What’s the matter with you?” Dino asked.
“She was in the chopper,” Stone said to Dino. He turned to Carpenter. “Who was the shooter? Mason?”
“Mason was the best shot in the Royal Marines, a few years back,” she replied. “He keeps his hand in.”
“But you were calling the shot, weren’t you?”
“No, Sir Edward did that, when he took off his hat. I called it off.”
“But you wouldn’t have, if Dino hadn’t been there, would you?”
“If Dino and you hadn’t been there. That was very clever of you.”
“I knew it was the only way I could keep her alive.”
“It was.”
“Well, I’ve learned something from this experience,” Stone said.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Never trust an English gentleman, or an English gentlelady, for that matter.”
“It’s like they say in your Mafia,” she replied. “It wasn’t personal, it was business.”
“Forgive me if I take it personally.”
“That’s up to you.”