13

Everyone gathered for drinks at six-thirty, perhaps a little damp from the afternoon rain, then Stone and Dino pulled the cover off the 1970s Mercedes, which had less than ten thousand miles on the odometer. With the top down, they drove over to Avenue Franklin Roosevelt, to the restaurant Lasserre—a haven of haute cuisine and old-school formality, where the male guests voluntarily wore neckties and the women could wear haute couture and their best jewelry without being stared at, because the other women were dressed that way, too.

They dined slowly, savoring the experience, all the while being attended by a squad of waiters wearing tails. The pianist played the old songs, and the ceiling periodically and silently opened to let out the hot air and to expose the rose arbor on the roof.

“I love coming back to this place,” Dino said, uncharacteristically.

“I recall you being uncomfortable here,” Stone replied, “on your first visit.”

“That’s because I didn’t know what to expect,” Dino said. “I thought it might be a French movie set, and that at any moment, a big camera and a crew would glide past the table.”

“It’s my first time here,” Callie said, “and I love it.” She took a sip of her claret. “I didn’t know about the bar fights, Dino.”

Dino managed to return to the present. “Bar fights?”

“The ones you said Eddie had been arrested for.”

“Oh, those bar fights.”

“That was just guy stuff, wasn’t it? Harmless big-boy tiffs?”

“Not exactly,” Dino replied. “You see, those bar fights happened in the sort of bars where people go looking for bar fights, the kind of place where there are baseball bats behind the bar, so the bartenders don’t get hurt.”

“Are you saying that Eddie hung out in such places all the time?”

“No, just the two times he got arrested for it. Of course, the second time is the clue. After getting arrested the first time, why did he go back for more?”

“Did he?”

“At least once. My guess is that he had visited such places more than once or twice before and, perhaps, after the arrests.”

“Why would a person do that?”

“There are some persons who enjoy inflicting pain on others, and others who enjoy having it inflicted upon themselves.”

Stone spoke up. “When Eddie decided to beat you up, which group do you think he belonged to?”

“Not my group,” she said. “I just defended myself.”

“Callie,” Stone said gently, “there are certain traits in a suspect that a police officer looks for when making judgments about them. If, for instance, an arrestee has in his record a history of harming small animals—like household pets—alarms go off in his head and red lights flash, because that is a marker for a serial killer.”

“I don’t think Eddie did that,” she said.

“And if the officer is investigating the murder of a woman, and her husband has a history of violence against women, then he becomes, at once, the chief suspect.”

“Eddie wasn’t trying to murder me,” she said.

“Maybe next time,” Stone replied. “You did the right thing when you got out immediately.”

“I remember when we were in high school Eddie’s father used to beat up his mother. The cops got called a couple of times.”

“That’s more history. Tell me, did you know other girls who dated Eddie?”

“There weren’t any. We were going steady from the time I was fifteen. But he did get into fights playing football or basketball. He got thrown out of some games.”

“Did Eddie ever suspect or accuse you of going out with other fellows?”

“Not exactly, but he did accuse me of being attracted to my avionics professor in college.”

“Were you?”

“Attracted to him? Sure, he was cute.”

“Did anything bad ever happen to your professor around that time?”

She looked down at her plate. “Somebody slashed the tires on his car once.”

“It’s a short hop from a car to an airplane,” Stone said. “Around that time did Eddie ever rough you up?”

“He slapped me when I denied having anything to do with the professor.”

Dessert came, and they fell upon it.


After dinner, the valet brought the convertible, and they took a midnight ride around Paris, talking little. Later, when they were getting ready for bed, Stone felt he had to bring up the subject of Eddie again.

“Callie?”

“Yes?” She was brushing out her hair at the dressing table.

“I think it’s likely that you’re going to see Eddie again.”

“I don’t want to see him.”

“That won’t stop him from trying.”

“He got a broken nose the last time he took a swing at me.”

“Eddie isn’t a college boy anymore,” Stone pointed out. “He has graduated to bigger things, like bar fights. Next time, he’ll bring a weapon.”

“Eddie never carried guns.”

“Not that kind of weapon: a wine bottle, a broom handle, a kitchen knife. Whatever’s handy.”

“Why do you think he’ll come after me?” she asked, looking at him in the mirror.

“Well, let’s see,” Stone said. “You saw him at an airport a year ago?”

“Less than a year. More like seven or eight months.”

“How long ago did you leave your job and start your own company?”

“Two months ago.”

“Was there an announcement in the aviation trade press?”

“Yes, I hired a PR lady to help me make a splash.”

“Was it after that when Eddie left his airline job?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe.”

“When he did, did he go to work for a company based at Teterboro—where you had recently opened offices?”

“Yes, he did. There was a piece on the Aviation Week website about my sale of the G-500 to you. The next day.”

“Does he know where you live?”

“I don’t think so.”

“If he wanted to know, could he find out?”

“Maybe.”

“Callie, I think you’re being stalked. Do you own a gun?”

“No.”

“Are you familiar with firearms?”

“Yes, I used to hunt with my dad. Shotguns.”

“When we get back, I think you should take a weapons course—personal defense—and then I think you should buy a gun and keep it with you at all times. Dino will help with getting you a carry license.”

“I don’t like that idea,” she said. “Maybe I could carry a blackjack?”

“That’s an illegal weapon.”

She was quiet for a moment. “All right,” she said finally. “I’ll take the course.”