“Sometimes it’s not dull enough,” Stone replied.
They went back to Eliza’s apartment, and she warmed up dinner.
“The wine is delicious,” she said.
“Everything is delicious,” he replied.
When they had finished, he helped with the dishes, then made to leave, but she held him back.
“Stay with me tonight,” she said. “You’re still in shock; you shouldn’t be alone.” She led him into the bedroom, undressed them both and pulled him into bed.
They lay there in each other’s arms, hardly moving, until they finally fell asleep.
The following morning she made them breakfast, then walked Stone to the door.
“We can’t see each other for a while,” he said.
“Why not?”
“Because this Daltry thing isn’t over. If he learned about you, you might become a target, and I don’t want that to happen. I took a lot of precautions to see that I wasn’t followed here tonight, but I can’t go on doing that; it’s too dangerous.”
“I understand,” she said, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him. “I’ll wait for you to call me when this is over.”
“I hope it’s soon,” Stone said.
“So do I,” she replied.
41
That morning Stone headed for the district attorney’s office in a cab, but they were stopped dead by a huge traffic jam going downtown. Stone called Bob Cantor’s cell number.
“Cantor.”
“Bob, it’s Stone. Have you got Herbie?”
“Yep, we’re sitting in the D.A.’s waiting room.”
“I’m stuck in a huge traffic jam. Just know that I’ll be there at the earliest possible moment.”
“Do the best you can.”
“And you hang on to Herbie.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
Stone sweated his way through the jam and arrived at the D.A.’s office twenty minutes late. Cantor and Herbie were not in the waiting room.
“They’re in with Dierdre Monahan,” the receptionist said. “You can go in.”
The idea of Herbie in Dierdre’s office without an attorney to keep him quiet h
orrified Stone, and he practically ran down the hallway toward Dierdre’s office.
Dierdre and Cantor seemed to be having a nice conversation without any participation by Herbie. “Good afternoon, Stone,” she said pointedly.
“I’m sorry, Dierdre,” he said, shaking her hand. “I’ve been stuck in a traffic jam for half an hour.”
“Of course you have,” she said, pointing at a chair.