Stone was at his desk when Joan buzzed him. “Vivian Bacchetti on one for you.”
Stone rarely got calls from Viv; he wondered if something was wrong with Dino. He pressed the button. “Viv? How are you?”
“Just great, thanks.”
“How’s Dino?”
“As usual. Why do you ask? Do you know something I don’t know?”
“No, I thought maybe you knew something I didn’t know.”
A brief silence. “Let’s start over,” she said.
“Okay. How are you, Viv?”
“We’ll skip that part. A guy who works for me got a call from a guy who used to work for him at another agency, a much smaller one.”
“Okay.”
“Not yet. The guy had a call from somebody who wanted a background check on you.”
“Really?”
“I wouldn’t be calling if it weren’t real,” Viv said.
“Of course not. I just didn’t know what else to say.”
“All right, ask me who made the call.”
“Who wanted me checked out, Viv?”
“Someone named Randall Hedger. Does that name mean anything to you?”
“Yes, he’s the soon-to-be ex-husband of a woman of my acquaintance named Roberta Calder.”
“As in Vance Calder?”
“Yes, she’s his niece.”
“He had a niece?”
“His brother’s daughter.”
“If you say so.”
“I don’t have any reason to doubt it,” Stone said.
“Back to Mr. Hedger. He wanted more than a background check, he wanted dirt.”
“And how did your guy’s guy respond to that?”
“He knew you were friends with Dino and me, so he told Hedger that all his agents were currently assigned, and they weren’t taking any new clients. Then he called my guy.”
“What’s your guy’s guy’s name?”
“Why do you want to know?” Viv asked.
“I want to send him a dozen roses.”
“Why?”
“To thank him for the courtesy.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Then I’d like to hire one or more of your guys,” Stone said.
“What for?”
“To look into Randall Hedger’s background.”
“Just a straightforward background check?”
“No, I want the dirt, too.”
“How much dirt?”
“All there is—even under his fingernails.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Viv said.
“I’m always open to a better idea.”
“Hire my guy’s guy to do that for you. It’s how he earns his living.”
“Are you saying that all your agents are assigned, and you’re not taking on any new clients?”
“No, Stone. I’m just saying that we’re too big, too important, and too busy to go around looking under rocks for snakes. You still want my guy’s guy’s name?”
“Yes, please.”
“Werner Blau, known to one and all as ‘Wedgie.’ Don’t ask. My guy says it’s a high school nickname.” She gave him a phone number.
“Is he a Kraut?”
“No, he’s descended from Krauts. Bye-bye, Stone.” She hung up.
Stone dialed the number.
“Blau Security,” a woman said.
“May I speak to Mr. Blau, please?”
“Which Mr. Blau?”
“Werner Blau.”
“Senior or junior?”
“Senior.”
“Mr. Blau Senior is retired.”
“Then junior, please.”
“Your name?”
“Stone Barrington.”
“I’ll see if I can find him.”
“Good.”
Almost instantly, the phone was picked up. “This is Werner Blau,” he said.
“Senior or junior?” Stone replied.
“Senior died three years ago.”
“My condolences,” Stone said. “Then, Junior?”
“Speaking.”
“Mr. Blau, my name is Stone Barrington. I was referred to you by Vivian Bacchetti.”
“I don’t know a Vivian Bacchetti. Try again.”
“Of Strategic Services.”
“Oh, that Vivian Bacchetti.”
“The very one.”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Barrington?”
“Mrs. Bacchetti told me that you received a request to look into my background from a man named Randall Hedger. First, I want to thank you for stiffing him.”
“You’re welcome. Now, what can I do for you?”
“I’d like you to investigate the background of someone.”
“Who?”
“Randall Hedger.”
“How deep do you want to go?”
“The usual superficial stuff—criminal record, etcetera—then deeper.”
“How deep?”
“Whatever you can find.”
“Mr. Hedger’s address and phone number?”
“You can start there. If he tells you it’s on East Sixty-Third Street, he’s lying.”
“What is your connection to Mr. Hedger?”
“I have none. He’s the soon-to-be ex-husband of an acquaintance of mine.”
“Her name?”
“Roberta Calder, East Sixty-Third Street.”
“May I speak to her?”
“You may not, and I don’t want her to know you’re investigating Hedger.”
“O . . . kay. We get fifteen hundred a day and expenses.”
“That’s fine. Call me before you buy any airline tickets.”
“You’d like the investigation confined to New York City?”
“Greater New York, let’s say. You can telephone as far as you like.”
“Is your requirement of this information urgent?”
“It’s not life or death—I hope—but . . .” Stone stopped and thought. “Skip that. It’s urgent,” he said.
“Then I will attend to this matter personally,” Blau said. “Your address and phone numbers?”
Stone gave him his information. “Thank you for your attention to this.”
“I’ll be in touch,” Blau said, then hung up.