“Did that cross your mind when you sent her to Connecticut?”

“I don’t remember.”

“You’re getting as bad as Barton. I hope his memory isn’t as selective.”

“You think he’s holding out on us, Stone?”

“I think he’s a craftier man than he lets on.”

“He is that.”

“Lance, how hard did you try to find him during your years apart?”

“Hard at first; after I was transferred to London, less hard. I didn’t use agency resources, if that’s what you mean.”

“Why would he want to stay out of touch with his younger brother?”

“I haven’t asked him that.”

Maybe you wouldn’t like the answer, Stone thought. He said good-bye and hung up.

28

Stone and Dino were still on their first drink when Bob Cantor walked into Elaine’s.

“Hey, Bob,” Dino said. “It’s after dark, and you’re out of your coffin!”

“Very funny. I usually work at night, you know.”

“My very point,” Dino said.

“It is unusual to see you in here,” Stone pointed out.

“I live downtown, okay? I hate the subway, cabs are expensive and there’s never any parking around here, except at twenty bucks an hour.”

“All good reasons,” Stone said.

Cantor took out a small tape player and handed Stone an earpiece. “I wanted you to hear this,” he said.

Stone listened to the lunchtime conversation, then handed the earpiece back to Cantor.

“Don’t I get to hear?” Dino asked. “I’m on the team, too, you know.”

“He is?” Cantor asked.

“He is,” Stone replied. “Why does Charlie want to have a reunion?”

“Dunno,” Cantor said. “Maybe he’s getting all sentimental in his old age, but I doubt it.”

“But what would he have to gain by getting you, Ab Kramer and Harry Collins together all in one place?”

“You’re forgetting the Colonel.”

“Him, too.”

“I can’t think of any reason, and I doubt Charlie plans to do it. It would be like him to suggest the opposite of what he intends to do.”

“Okay,” Stone said. “Suppose he beat up the Colonel and took his mahogany secretary. He’s already got it, so what does he want to do, gloat?”

“Ransom it,” Dino said. “He’ll say he knows somebody who can get it back for half what it’s worth. That way, he makes a quick twelve million, and the Colonel sells it and gets the rest.”

“That sounds like Charlie,” Cantor said. “It’s what he would do.”

“On the tape,” Stone said, “he says he bears no hard feelings about the gold coin thing that you and the Colonel profited from. Does that sound like him?”

“No, it doesn’t; Charlie would hold a grudge forever.”

“Wait a minute,” Dino said, “what’s this about a gold coin?”

Stone gave him a quick version of the story.

“Ah,” Dino said, “if he’s got the secretary, and he found the die in the drawer, then he can afford to be magnanimous about the coin deal, since he’s in a position to make his own coin and repeat the deal.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” Stone said.

Cantor shook his head. “Just because Charlie had the die wouldn’t make him magnanimous; he would want to gloat. No, all this seems logical, but it’s not right. It’s not Charlie. He doesn’t want the reunion; he wants something else.”

“Wants what?” Stone asked.

“Who knows? It could be something completely off the wall.”

“Maybe he wants to impress the Colonel with how well he’s done over the years,” Stone said.

Cantor nodded. “Now that makes sense, showing off for the Colonel. Funny, though, he didn’t mention the Colonel. I brought up his name.”

“Did you agree to the reunion?” Dino asked.

“Yeah, I said okay,” Cantor replied.

“Dino,” Stone said, “have your people tailed Charlie Crow yet?”

“Yep,” Dino said. “In fact, they planted a very nice little GPS device on the Rolls. I can follow it on any laptop.”

“Dino, you said you weren’t going to put anything on a computer.”

“Nah, this device is off the books, and so is the website that tracks it.”

“So, where’d he go?”

“His lawyer’s office, for a little over three hours, then his own office, then home. He and his wife ordered in Chinese.”

“Pretty dull life,” Cantor said.

“Yeah,” Stone agreed, “but I wonder about the trip to his lawyer’s office. Two hours is a long time for a client to sit with his lawyer. Three is forever.”

“Maybe he’s got a deal cooking,” Dino offered.

“Still, three hours is a long time. I can’t ever remember meeting with a client for three hours.”

“Yeah,” Dino said, “but it’s hard to spend three hours talking about a DUI or a divorce. Crow has a business, remember?”

“My clients have businesses, too,” Stone said defensively. “I met with Harlan Deal yesterday, and it didn’t take three hours.”

“Harlan Deal is your client?” Dino asked.

“He is.” Long pause. “Well, I consulted on a matter.”

“For how long?”

“Well, the meeting lasted only a few minutes, but I had to spend several hours sewing up everything.”

“Sewing up what?” Dino asked.

“That’s privileged,” Stone replied. “Let’s just say that I completed a negotiation that Harlan couldn’t, and in the process, I saved him a substantial chunk of his fortune.”

“That sounds like a paternity suit,” Dino said.

“It was a good deal more important than that,” Stone replied, “and I think I can safely say that the outcome was favorable for all concerned, including me.”

“How was it favorable for you?” Dino asked.

“Harlan sent me a check for twenty-five grand this morning by messenger.”

“Now I’m impressed,” Dino said.

“Me, too,” echoed Cantor.

“And well you should be,” Stone said, drawing himself up to his full height. “Harlan certainly was.”

“Is that what you call him? Harlan? Not Mr. Deal?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“And what does he call you?”

“He calls me Mr. Barrington.”

“Sounds a little standoffish,” Cantor said.

“Our relationship is perfectly cordial,” Stone replied.

“I thought maybe this had something to do with that story in the Times business section this morning,” Dino said.

“His acquisition of the aircraft-leasing company? That was the icing on the cake. Harlan had a good day.”

Cantor, who was sitting facing the door, suddenly sat up.

Stone and Dino followed his gaze to the bar. A heavyset, florid-faced man was taking a stool.

“What?” Stone asked.

“I’d swear to God that’s Harry Collins,” Cantor said.

“Who?” Dino asked.

“The other guy from the Colonel’s old outfit. Charlie mentioned seeing him at the track. I mean, he’s gained a lot of weight, but I think that’s Harry.”

“Now that’s interesting,” Stone said. “First Charlie Crow walks into P. J. Clarke’s when you’re there, and now Harry Collins walks into Elaine’s when you’re here. And you’re hardly ever here.”

“Well, I’m not speaking to him,” Cantor said. “I’ll leave that to Charlie.” He picked up a menu and ordered dinner; they all did. By the time their first course arrived, Harry Collins had finished his drink and left.