42
STONE WAS HAVING A SANDWICH in the kitchen when the phone rang. Joan was at lunch, so he picked it up. “Stone Barrington.”
“It’s Tiffany Baldwin, Stone,” said the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York.
“Hello, Tiff,” he said warily. “I didn’t know you were speaking to me.”
“Well, you made up for everything by sending me this very nice fax this morning.”
How the hell did she know it came from him? “Which fax was that?”
“The one about this character, Sig Larsen.”
“Oh, that one.”
“I know you sent it to the NYPD first, but when I got it, it still had your imprint at the top from your fax machine.”
“Oh.”
“This is a very interesting situation,” she said.
“Is it?”
“Yes, it’s the first I’ve heard of it.”
“I thought the NYPD had mentioned Larsen’s name to you.”
“Maybe to a minion, but it didn’t float up to my desk until your fax came in.”
“I’m happy to be of help.”
“Have you actually met this Larsen?”
“Yes, I have.”
“What did you think of him?”
“A very slick con man, I thought.”
“And he’s trying to fleece your client?”
Stone didn’t want to pour out everything about Mitzi’s undercover work; he didn’t know if she had heard about that. “In a manner of speaking,” he said.
“I assume it’s a she.”
“I don’t know why you assume that, but she is a she.”
“It’s always a she with you, isn’t it, Stone?”
“Sig Larsen isn’t a she.”
“And how did you happen across Mr. Larsen?”
“I was looking into an associate of his for a client, when he turned up.”
“And who is his associate?”
“A so-called artist named Derek Sharpe.”
“I’ve heard of him. Is he complicit in this scam?”
“He introduced me to Larsen, and he was present when Larsen first mentioned this investment.”
“You think Sharpe knows it’s a scam?”
“Based on what I’ve seen and heard of him, I’m prepared to believe the worst about Mr. Sharpe.”
“So, I should investigate them both?”
“Tiff, I can’t tell you what to investigate; if you like Larsen and Sharpe, go get ’em. I’d be happy to see them both off the street for an extended period.”
“You mean your client would be happy?”
“Him, too.”
“I thought it was a she.”
“There’s a he and a she; I don’t believe they’ve met.”
“Tell me about the she.”
“She’s from the south, new in the city, wealthy, and Larsen and Sharpe must think she’s vulnerable.”
“Is she?”
“Not really.”
“Then you’re giving her good advice.”
“I try.”
“What is her name?”
“I can’t divulge that without her permission.”
“Then get her permission.”
“Next time I speak to her I’ll ask her if she’d like to be an undercover agent for the federal government.”
“You can be smoother than that, Stone.”
“I find that when someone wants to embroil my client in what might be a dangerous situation it’s better to be blunt about what’s wanted of her.”
“All right, be blunt with her, but do it quick, all right?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Dinner sometime, Stone? Without the cameras, I mean.”
“Tiff, I tried to explain that the presence of cameras in my bedroom was unknown to me, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“My investigation of the event confirmed your claim of innocence, if not total innocence.”
“I’m relieved to hear it.”
“We had some good times,” she said. “It might be fun to revisit them.”
“Right now, Tiff, I’m embroiled in a number of things that are creating great pressures on my time. Maybe in a few weeks.” She might forget about it in a few weeks.
“I’ll look forward to it,” Tiffany said. “Good-bye.”
Stone hung up and dialed Mitzi’s cell phone.
“Hello?”
“I’ve just had a phone call from the U.S. Attorney,” he said.
“Oh?”
“Don’t play innocent with me. You failed to remove my name from that prospectus before you faxed it to her.”
“I asked Brian to do that,” she said. “I’m sorry, if he didn’t.”
“I might have known,” Stone said. “Ms. Baldwin would like you to be an undercover agent for her in the pursuit of Sig Larsen. What shall I tell her?”
“Does she know I’m a cop?”
“No.”
“I’d better speak to Brian about this, then.”
“Do it now; Tiffany is an impatient woman.”
“You should know,” Mitzi said, with a vocal leer. “I’ll get back to you.” She hung up.
Stone went back to his sandwich, which had grown cold. He nuked it for a few seconds, then started to eat again. The phone rang.
“Stone Barrington.”
“It’s Brian Doyle, your commanding officer.”
“Go fuck yourself, commander.”
“I hear you’ve got the U.S. Attorney trying to poach one of my people.”
“You sent her the fucking prospectus without taking my name off it, as requested. That’s why she called me.”
“What did you tell her?”
“Nothing. I refused her to give her my client’s—Mitzi’s—name. She wants to use her to get at Larsen.”
“I’m using her to get at Sharpe.”
“Look, if you’d shown some interest in busting Larsen, this wouldn’t have happened. Trust me, Tiffany Baldwin is going to gnaw away at this case until she knows everything, so my advice to you is to call her right now and offer to share the fruits of your investigation and the use of your undercover officer in making a federal case against Larsen. Maybe Sharpe, too. It’s an easier way for you to get him off the street.”
“But without the credit.”
“So work out a credit-sharing plan with Tiff. She’ll keep her word if you get it in writing.”
“Why did you get me into this shit, Stone?”
“You got you into this shit, Brian, and unless you call Ms. Baldwin right now, she’s liable to approach you through the commissioner. It would be a lot better if you could tell the commissioner you got the Feds involved and worked out a deal with them.”
Doyle didn’t say anything for a moment.
“Look,” Stone said, “if she calls me back, I’m going to have to tell her more.”
“Don’t threaten me, Stone.”
“It’s how it is, Brian. Now go deal with it.” Stone hung up. His sandwich was cold again.