Near Miss

Stone and Dino both took note of his behavior. A few minutes later the woman returned and sat down.

“I’m very much afraid you have been abandoned by the cad you came in with,” Stone said.

“Well put,” she said, glancing at the empty seat across from her.

“Have you had dinner yet?”

“I had thought I had that in my immediate future,” she said, “but it was not to be. Did he say something about important business?”

Stone nodded. “I’m Stone Barrington, and this is my friend, Dino Bacchetti,” he said. “If you’d like to join us for dinner, we promise to be harmless.”

“How kind of you!” she said brightly, moving toward them, while the waiter made adjustments with the table.

“Are you often abandoned so rudely?” Stone asked.

“Only by that particular gentleman,” she replied.

“May I ask your name?”

“I’m Matilda Martin,” she said.

“I know you may not believe this,” Stone said, “but my mother’s name was Matilda.”

“Was she from Massachusetts?”

“From Great Barrington.”

“Then I believe you. Was she a painter?”

“She was.”

“When I was growing up, wanting to be a painter, she was my role model.”

“Did you realize your ambition of painting?”

“Yes, but only on weekends. I’m a personal financial adviser.” She took a folded brochure from her purse and handed it to him. “The illustrations are my own, but at least I’m published.”

Stone looked at them. “You should paint more and advise less,” he said.

“Excuse me,” Dino said, leaning in. “Is there an angry ex-husband and/or boyfriend looming over your existence?”

“How well you put it,” she replied. “Of course, every girl worth her salt has disappointed a man or two.”

“Just checking,” Dino said. “I wanted to see how Stone’s personal cliché meshed with yours.”

“As I mentioned, you should paint more and advise less,” Stone said again, ignoring Dino.

“I shall take that as high praise,” she said, laughing.

“That was how it was intended.”

“Excuse me again,” Dino said, “but there’s a side of beef waiting out back to be slaughtered and grilled, too rare. Anybody interested?”

They ordered.

“Is the cad who recently abandoned you of any importance in your life?” Stone asked.

“I had hopes for him, but they didn’t last long.”

“Has he ever behaved violently toward you?”

“No, but he has threatened to, when I used up too much of the conversational air between us.”

“Then he is living down to my expectations,” Stone said. They finished their dinner and declined dessert. “Matilda, would you like to come back to my house for a nightcap? Dino will offer police protection.”

“Dino, are you a policeman?”

“He is the uber policeman, the commissioner.”

“Goodness, I’ve never met a police commissioner.”

“I’m pleased to be your first,” Dino replied. “I should tell you that Stone only wants to show off his house. You’ll be safe enough.”

“I’ll show you my Matilda Stones,” Stone replied.

“In that case, I’d love a nightcap,” she beamed.

Stone filled the ride home with stories of being partners with Dino, in their youth.

“Did you and Stone protect each other?”

“Somebody had to keep him alive,” Dino explained.

Chapter 3

Stone was at his desk the following morning when his secretary, Joan, rapped on his door.

“Yes?”

“A walk-in, says Bill Eggers sent him.”

Bill Eggers was Stone’s managing partner at Woodman & Weld.

“Better send him in,” Stone said.

The young man who entered his office was all too familiar from the night before, when he had abandoned Matilda Martin at Clarke’s.

“My name is Trench Molder,” the man said, not offering a hand but taking a seat, unasked.

“I’m happy to know your name, Mr. Molder. How is it you know Bill Eggers?”

“I don’t,” Molder replied, “but I thought his name might get me in here.”

“And now that you have accomplished that goal, how can I help you?”

“Simple. Just stay away from Matilda Martin, and we will have no further business.”

“I’m afraid we already have no further business,” Stone said. “But I can tell you that neither do you and Ms. Martin have any further business.”

“That’s presumptuous of you,” Molder said

“Not really, since it reflects the wishes of the young lady.”

“I presume she slept here last night,” Molder said.

“She did not,” Stone said. “Where did you sleep?”

Molder apparently did not wish to say. “Wherever I wanted to,” he managed, finally.

“Good. Now, will you kindly leave these premises?”

“Or what?”

“That’s the last time I’ll ask you politely.”

“Who gives a shit?”

Stone saw Joan appear behind Molder, her Colt .45 half-concealed in her skirt.

Stone shook his head. “It won’t be necessary to shoot him,” he said. “He’s leaving right now.” Stone stood up and walked around his desk. Molder stood, turned, and stalked out.

“Aw, shucks,” Joan said. “I was looking forward to it.”

“Maybe later,” Stone said, “if he returns.”

“I’ll count on it,” Joan replied, then went back to her desk.

Stone’s cell rang. Dino. “Hello?”

“I just had a strong feeling that you might need me.”

“That’s very psychic of you, but fortunately the threat you imagined has vanished.”

“Someone about our Matilda?”