Near Miss

The next day Stone had a business meeting uptown with a client, and when he came back to the car, he saw a man looking at him. The man quickly looked away, and Stone filed the memory of the shape and heft of the figure as he crossed the street and strode away. He thought the man very confident, sure of himself. He wondered why the man felt that way.

Stone lunched with Dino at their mutual club in the East Sixties, a place so anonymous that it didn’t have a proper name. Its members referred to it as “the club” or “the place uptown,” and the membership was thick with men and women of influence.

“A threat?” Dino asked.

“Not exactly, but he looked as though he could be, if he chose to.”

“Description?”

“Six three or four, wearing a blue suit. Thick neck, long arms, mostly bald.”

“Did you get a look at his face?”

“No, he was more of just a shape. It was hulking, I suppose you’d say.”

“I didn’t know you were such a quick judge, Stone.”

“When we leave here today, we’ll see if he’s hanging about.”

“Okay.”

After lunch, they left the club by its front door. Normally, they’d have driven away from the garage, which was more discreet, but Stone wanted a look around.

“There,” he said, “just turning the corner.”

“I only caught a glimpse,” Dino said, “but your description was accurate.”

“How would you classify him?” Stone asked.

“I think he’s capable of being a threat,” Dino said. “That’s not necessarily an accurate assessment of his intentions, but it’s troubling that you’ve seen him twice today already. I think you should treat him as a threat, until we know more. If you see him coming, cross the street. Then, let’s see if he crosses with you. I don’t suppose you’re carrying.”

“Maybe I should be,” Stone replied.

“You’ll live longer if you follow my advice,” Dino said. “Carry a fucking gun.”

“You think my guns are too light. I’m not going to carry a .45 just to make you happy.”

“Then carry one of those dear little .380s you’re so fond of. You’re more interested in your suit hanging right than protecting your life.”

“That’s a dirty communist lie,” Stone said. “I’m very fond of my life.”

“Well, you can always shoot them in the head,” Dino said. “Even a .380 will make an attacker think twice, if he can still think. Have you seen any more of that girl who has the same name as your mother?”

“Yes, and again tonight,” Stone said. “Herbie Fisher is throwing a soiree, and we’re going there.”

“I got that invitation, too, and Viv gets back today, so maybe we’ll see you there.”

They parted. Stone got into the Bentley, which Fred, his driver and factotum, had pulled up beside them. Dino got into his own, city-supplied vehicle. As he was driven away, Stone heard a growl from the police car’s siren, which made him laugh.

“Home, Fred,” Stone said, “and I’ll need you at six-thirty this evening.”

“Yes, sir,” Fred replied.

“Fred, have you seen anyone suspicious hanging about?”

“You mean the big fellow?”

“That’s the one. I’ve seen him twice today, and that’s too many times.”

“I’ll keep a sharp eye out,” Fred said, and Stone knew he meant it. He also knew that Fred habitually packed.

“Will we be picking up a young lady, sir?” Fred asked.

“She’s coming to the house, directly from her work.”

“Got it, sir. The car will be ready at six-thirty.”

Matilda was a little early, so they had time for a drink before departing for Herb Fisher’s party. Standing in his study, she unpacked her large handbag, took off her dress, and liberated a black sheath from the bag.

Stone watched with pleasure.

Chapter 6

Trench Molder snapped the padlock on his locker shut, then walked into the weight room at the East Side Athletic Club and immediately saw Huff across the room, helping another member. Huff saw him, too, and quickly looked away. Trench didn’t like that. Huff had no reason to be furtive with him.

Trench worked his way slowly through his routine. Eventually, Huff got around to him. “Hey, Huff.”

“Hey, Trench.”

“What’s wrong?”

Huff heaved a deep sigh.

“Did you make any progress on the Barrington matter?”

“I’m sorry, Trench. Barrington made me, and so did his pal, Bacchetti.”

“C’mon, Huff, you’re slicker than that.”

“I usually am,” Huff said, “but not today.”

“What happened?”

“I walked into his line of sight.”

“So?”

“Twice. Now he’s curious, and I can’t approach if I’m on his mind.”

“It could happen to anybody, Huff.”

“Not to me. Not ever before. He’s smarter than I thought.”

“Smarter than I thought, too,” Trench said. “So now, what’s your plan?”

“Cool it down for a while. Otherwise, when he sees me on the street again, he’ll approach, and then I’m useless to you.”

“Cool it for how long?”

“Say a couple of weeks. I’ll stick close to home. No contact at all. He’ll eventually forget about me, and then I can do my work. I know you wanted immediate action, but at least you’re not out any money.”

“Let’s leave it like this, Huff,” Trench said. “You do your work in your own good time, and I’ll be satisfied with that. On the other hand, I won’t forget, either.”

“That’s good of you,” Huff said.