On the Monday morning after Thanksgiving, Secretary of State Holly Barker stood on the sidewalk as Fred placed her bags in the trunk of the Bentley.
Stone stood with her. “Would you like Fred for the morning?”
“Thank you, yes. I have a meeting at the UN, and that’s my excuse for commandeering an official aircraft for the trip up here. Fred will drop me at the East Side Heliport when I’m done.” She hung an arm around his neck and kissed him. “You’ve been a dear,” she said. “I don’t know how the weekend could have gone better.”
He kissed her back, but he had an idea of how it could have gone better. He waved her off and went back into his office. “Joan,” he said, “please get Bob Cantor over here as soon as possible.”
“I’m on it,” she replied, picking up the phone.
—
Bob Cantor was ex-NYPD, an expert on everything technical, now a licensed private investigator of a high order. He was in Stone’s office half an hour later, and his van/tech shop was parked at the curb. “What can I do you for, Stone?”
“Bob, there are two people annoying me and friends of mine.”
“Shall I use a knife or a gun, or would you prefer to have it look like an accident?”
“It hasn’t come to that. Yet. I just want to know everything in their lives that is derogatory and, if possible, illegal.”
“What do you suspect them of?”
“For one thing, they’re working very hard to get a friend of theirs named Danny Blaine out of Fishkill. It would be very satisfying if they could be caught doing it.”
“I know of Blaine—a fashion heartthrob in Fishkill? He must be a very busy young man.”
“I expect so. The two people you seek are Gloria Parsons, who is a senior editor at Just Folks, and a cohort of hers with no visible means of support named Alphonse Teppi.”
“Parsons, I know—or rather, know of. The other one sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t place him. Where would I find them both?”
“You can find her at or around her magazine, and he will not be far behind. I don’t even know where they live.”
“And what would you like done to them when I find them?”
“That depends on what you can learn. I don’t want violence wrought upon them—I would be content with public disgrace, followed shortly by drawing and quartering.”
“So I’ll be working in the area of personal destruction, is that it?”
“You don’t have to destroy anybody, Bob, and I’m certainly not asking you to do anything illegal. It’s just that I’ve been attacked once by these people, and I feel another one coming on, and I want everything I can get to fight back with. If you could get a nice color close-up of Ms. Parsons being fucked by a donkey, that would be very helpful. Come to think of it, the same goes for Teppi.”
“Well, since you put it that way, I don’t suppose there’s anything in my moral code that would prevent me from helping you publicly humiliate them in a permanent fashion.”
“What moral code is that?” Stone asked.
“Exactly. I’ll go get ’em. Electronic surveillance okay?”
“As long as you don’t get caught doing it.”
“Daily reports?”
“Unless you get something sooner or more frequently.”
Cantor stood up. “I believe I grasp the scope of my employment. You’ll be hearing from me.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Just one thing, Stone.”
“What’s that?”
“You sound very angry with these people.”
“You could say that.”
“Someone, I forget who, once said, ‘Revenge is a dish best served cold.’ Anger can be self-destructive, Stone—be careful.”
“You be careful for me, Bob.”
“Gotcha,” and Bob Cantor left with a little wave.
Stone went back to work with a lighter heart.
—
Joan buzzed. “Dino on one.”
Stone pressed the button. “Good day!”
“You sound happy.”
“I feel happy,” Stone replied.
“Was that thing last night the bash to end all bashes, or what?”
“I would say it was the bash to end all bashes.”
“I don’t think I have ever seen a thing of that size carried off with such perfection!”
“How can I disagree with you, Dino?”
“You can’t.”
“Then I will hold my peace.”
“That girl Celeste is the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. She could do just fine in Hollywood.”
“Once again, we are in complete accord.”
“And I didn’t know that you could serve that much food and drink to that many people and have it turn out so well.”
“Once again, accord.”
“Although, I think the wine could have used another year.”
“Sounds as if you’re beginning to have doubts.”
“Just another year, maybe two.”
“A damning judgment.”
“I mean, it was only three years in the bottle.”
“Not enough for a very fine Cabernet.”
“Do you think so?”
“I’m just agreeing with you.”
“Why are you doing that?”
“Because I’m an agreeable guy.”
“Not that agreeable—you’re up to something.”
“You know me too well.”
“You sound like a man who is contemplating—no, relishing—revenge upon some unfortunate person.”
“That is a very astute judgment.”
“I want in on this—c’mon, who is it?”
“All right, it’s that horrible woman who said those terrible things about me in that magazine.”
“Stone, those were not terrible things. I’ve told you before, they were complimentary.”
“I didn’t view them that way.”
“What’s more, they sounded like they were judgments derived from a certain measure of personal experience.”
“I do not care to expand on what I have already said.”
“What are you going to do to her?”
“Them.”
“You mean Teppi, too?”
“Very likely.”
“What do you have on them?”
“I have Bob Cantor on them.”
“What has Bob found?”
“He has only just begun.”
“Well, if anybody can skewer them, it’s Bob. Do you think he can find something I can arrest them for?”
“Please, God.”
“You’ll keep me posted?”
“With pleasure. Good day, Commissioner.” Stone hung up.