“Well, sure, I guess so, but how could I think about that when I was fucking Celia only a couple of days ago? I must be a terrible excuse for a human being.”
“Stone, nothing is more human than sex, expecially with women as beautiful as Celia and Dierdre. Thinking about sex with either of them is a great defense against having to think about Celia with no head.” Dino mopped his brow. “Jesus, I want to kill Daltry myself. Maybe if we go down to his studio he’ll give us an excuse.”
“I’d love to do that, I really would,” Stone said.
“Yeah, but it’s my job not to do that, and not to let you do it, either.”
“I know.”
Stone looked up to see Dierdre Monahan coming through the front door. She gave him a little wave, then stopped and said something to Gianni, the headwaiter, who picked up a remote control and changed the TV channel to New York 1, a 24/7 local news channel, then cranked up the volume.
Dierdre came over and sat down. “Well, hi, guys,” she said. “Who does a girl have to fuck to get a drink around here?”
Stone waved at Gianni, who came over and took an order for a cosmo. Dierdra was still wearing the dress she’d worn at lunch, Stone was pleased to see. He stopped thinking about Celia.
“How was your limo ride back to work?” he asked.
“The Old Man was really sweet, wasn’t he? Either that, or he figured out what you and I were about to do and saved me from a fate worse than death.”
“Probably that one,” Stone said.
“Stone and I were having lunch, Dino, and…”
“He already told me,” Dino replied.
“Oh, oh, here we go,” Dierdre said, pointing at the TV. “Listen up.”
Dierdre’s face popped onto the screen, over a copse of microphones. “The district attorney’s office is pleased to announce that we have indicted and arrested Carmine Dattila on multiple charges of murder, attempted murder, extortion, abetting prostitution and abetting gambling.” TV Dierdre went on, but the real Dierdre was yelling at Gianni to change the channel back. She turned back to Stone. “I just wanted you to see that, so you’ll know I’m not lying.”
“Well, that’s great, Dierdre,” Stone said. “All this because of Herbie’s little tape?”
“Herbie’s little tape and the fact that Gus Castiglione rolled over this afternoon.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope. Turns out Cheech was his younger brother, and he was feeling just terrible about stabbing him repeatedly with a butcher knife. We had to get the poor thing a priest, and when that was done, he spilled his guts into a VCR and gave us names, dates, places and anything else we wanted. Believe me, this time Dattila is nailed.”
“If you can keep Gus alive,” Dino pointed out.
“And Herbie, too,” Stone mentioned.
“Gus is already in the safest house you ever saw, but that reminds me, where’s Herbie? We’ve got to put him on ice.”
“My best guess is he’s in East Hampton at an aunt’s house or, more likely, at the first singles’ bar he could find.”
“What’s the aunt’s name?”
“I don’t know. She’s married to a very successful plumber, though, if that helps.”
“Let’s see, this means that the aunt is Bob Cantor’s sister?”
“Very possibly.”
Dierdre dug a cell phone out of her purse and pressed a speed-dial number. “Hank? Get hold of Bob Cantor. Young Herbie is at Cantor’s sister’s house in East Hampton. Get the address from Cantor, find Herbie and ice him down good; I’ve already got the material witness warrant. The office will give you a copy. Right, see ya.” She put away the phone.
“It may not be as easy as that,” Stone said, “given my experience with Herbie, but it’s a start.”
She leaned into his ear and whispered, “After you’ve bought me a huge steak, we’re going back to your place, and I’m going to do to you everything you always dreamed about-every orifice, every position, as many times as you’re good for, kiddo.”