“See anyone you know?” Hedger asked.
“Yes, Arrington Calder,” Stone said.
“The movie star’s widow? I think she killed him, don’t you?”
“No.”
“How do you know her?”
“We’ve been friends for a long time.”
“Oh, wait a minute, I remember now; you were involved with her trial, weren’t you?”
“She was never tried,” Stone replied. “Her lawyer and I got it quashed at a hearing. She was plainly innocent.”
“Yeah, sure,” Hedger said.
Stone zipped up and went to wash his hands. Hedger was right behind him.
“I saw someone else,” Stone said.
“Who?”
“The man who interrogated me. At least, I think it was he; I only got a glimpse of him, and he wasn’t very well lighted the last time I saw him.”
“Where is he sitting?”
“I don’t know; when I looked for him again, he was gone.”
“You mean, he left?”
“I don’t know; he may have just moved elsewhere in the room.”
“Did he see you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Try and spot him again, and find a way to let me know where he is. I’m at table sixteen.”
“All right. There’s something else we have to talk about, but we can’t do it now.”
“How about lunch tomorrow in the Connaught grill? One o’clock?”
“Fine, see you then.”
Stone left first and went back to his table. He took the scenic route, wandering among the tables, and then, over near the doors to the garden, he saw the man, who was raptly listening to an elderly woman seated next to him. Table twelve, he noted. He looked at the man as closely as he dared. Was it his inquisitor, or was he simply a bald, bullet-headed man? Stone wished he could hear his voice; that would complete the identification. The man never looked at him, and he made his way back to his table and Arrington.
She was gone. Dancing had begun, and he spotted her on the floor with a man from their table. He took a cocktail napkin, drew a circle, and wrote on it, Table Twelve. He marked the bald man’s position and gave it to a waiter. “Please take this to Mr. Hedger, at table sixteen; he’s the one with the mustache.”
The waiter departed, and Stone followed him with his gaze to Hedger’s table. He saw Hedger read the note, then tuck it into a pocket. He didn’t immediately look at table twelve, but a moment later he let his gaze run in that direction. Then he looked toward Stone and shrugged.
Stone looked back at table twelve, but the man was no longer there. He noticed a door to the garden open, near the table. Stone looked back at Hedger and shrugged.
Arrington came back to the table and took Stone’s hand. “Come dance with me,” she said. She led him to the floor, and the band was playing something romantic.
Stone held her in his arms, something he had always loved doing, and moved them around the floor.
“You were always a wonderful dancer,” she said. “Vertically or horizontally.” She kissed him on the neck.