“Oh, I’d love to!” she said. “I’ve been stuck in the city for too long.”

“Good. We’ll drive up Saturday morning and come back Sunday or Monday, whichever you prefer.”

“It sounds wonderful. Now I have to get back to work.”

“Talk to you later.” Stone hung up, and Joan came in with an envelope.

“This arrived by messenger,” she said.

Stone opened the envelope and found Barton’s prospectus. He leafed through it slowly, marveling at the pieces, and suddenly he came to a stop. He found himself staring at a photograph of Barton’s mahogany secretary. He read the accompanying caption:

A very fine example of a secretary, in two pieces, from the firm of Goddard-Townsend, of Newport, commissioned by Josiah Strong in 1760 and housed in the family home since that time. It is, very possibly, one of only two pieces still in private hands. A sister piece sold for $12.1 million at Christie’s in June of 1989.

Stone remembered that he had walked through the entire house with Barton, cataloguing each piece, and there had been no Goddard-Townsend secretary in any of the rooms or the attic. It seemed that Barton had thought of a way to give the remaining piece still in his possession an instant provenance. Stone also recalled that Barton had said he could not remember whether the stolen piece was the original or his copy and no one could tell the difference.

Joan buzzed. “Barton Cabot on line one.”

Stone picked up the phone. “Barton?”

“Yes, Stone. Did you get the prospectus?”

“Yes, I was just reading it.”

“I saw my banker earlier today, and my loan request was denied.”

“I’m astonished,” Stone said. “Isn’t the collection its own collateral?”

“That was only part of it. He said that such a large personal loan would have to be approved by the board of directors of the bank, which doesn’t meet again for another five weeks.”

“That’s bad news,” Stone said. “What is your next move?”

“It appears that my only move is to find a person who is wealthy enough and motivated enough to come up with the money. The drawback is I’ll have no control over how it’s sold. The pieces might have to be auctioned, piecemeal, to recover the investment, and even if a museum buys it, I’ll have no control over how the collection is displayed.”

“Have you sent the prospectus to any museums?”

“Yes, I’ve sent it to the eight directors most likely to want it, afford it and house it.”

“Well, maybe one of them will be able to come up with the money in time to close the sale with Mildred’s executors.”

“That will never happen. Even if they’re dying for it, they’d have to go first to their boards, then to their richest donors for the money. That could take months to resolve.”

“I wish I could help in some way,” Stone said, “but I don’t see what I can do.”

“No,” Barton said wearily, “I’ll have to find a way out of this myself, which means I have to come up with nineteen million dollars by Tuesday.”

“If anyone can do it, Barton, you can.”

“Tell me, Stone, did you, by any chance, receive an invitation to a dinner party at Ab Kramer’s on Saturday night?”

“Yes, and Tatiana is coming up to Washington with me.”

“Oh, good. Carla’s coming up, too. Her engagement at the Carlyle has ended. Could you give her a lift?”

“Of course. Are you thinking of going to Ab for the money?” Stone asked.

“Ab would never make me that kind of loan.”

“You could sell him your secretary.”

“He already has one, remember?”

“Well, I’ll see you at the party,” Stone said. “It should be fun.”

“It may be more fun than you think,” Barton said. Then he hung up.

55

Before Stone left the house that evening, he called Tatiana. “How’s the cleanup going?” he asked.

“Pretty well, actually,” she replied.

“Would you like to join me for dinner, then?”

“Oh, I think I’m going to be very tired when we’re done. Will you forgive me, if I don’t?”

“Of course. I’ll be at Elaine’s with some friends, so if you feel like it, join us.”

“If I’m up to it,” she said.

Stone took a cab up to Elaine’s and found Dino and Genevieve sitting with Elaine. He joined them and ordered a drink.

“So, how’s it going?” Dino asked.

“So-so, I guess.”

“Any progress in finding our missing piece of furniture?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“So we’re going to miss the payoff, then?”

“Looks that way.”

“You don’t seem too upset about it.”

Stone shrugged. “You win some; you lose some.”

“Speaking of which,” Genevieve said, nodding toward the door, “here comes one of your losses.”

Stone looked toward the door and saw Eliza and Edgar arriving. Genevieve was waving them over.

“Hello, Stone,” Eliza said, permitting him to peck her on the cheek.

“Hello, Eliza, Edgar.” He shook Edgar’s hand.

“Stone, Eliza and I must thank you for the lovely wedding gift,” Edgar said.

“Yes, Stone,” Eliza chimed in, “it’s just beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Stone said.

They all got up to allow the waiters to put a bigger top on the table, and more chairs were found.

Stone realized that this was the first time Eliza had crossed his mind since he had met Tatiana, and he was feeling pretty good about that. Still, he was uncomfortable, and he had a strong suspicion that Genevieve had staged all this.

“So,” Dino said to Eliza and Edgar, “when are you two going to have a honeymoon?”

“Oh,” Eliza said, “Edgar is fully scheduled for surgery for the next month.”

“Yes,” Edgar said. “I’ve stopped taking new elective cases, so that we can have a decent enough gap to be able to go away for a bit.”

Swell, Stone thought. This is really what I want to talk about.

“And I have a lot of thank-you notes to write,” Eliza said, “so it’s just as well we can’t get away immediately.”

Stone wanted to scream.

Menus arrived, and everybody chose something. Then Genevieve and Eliza began dominating the conversation, as if they hadn’t spent the whole day together in the emergency room.

Genevieve turned toward Stone. “Oh, Stone, there’s a new nurse in the ER I’d like to fix you up with. She’s very pretty and she’s bright, too.”

“Thank you, Genevieve, but I’m seeing somebody,” he said with some satisfaction. He saw a flash of disbelief in her eyes.

“Oh, how nice for you. Who is the lady?”

“No one you know,” Stone replied.

“Oh, come on. Tell us her name.”

“Oh, all right. It’s Tatiana Orlovsky.”

“What a charming name!” Genevieve said, as if she didn’t believe a word of it. “What does she do?”

“She’s an illustrator.”

“Oh, good! Does she specialize in anything?”

“She’s more of a generalist.”

“Well, isn’t it convenient that she’s come along just at this moment in your life.”

Stone was embarrassed that this was going on in the presence of Eliza. “Dino,” he said, in a desperate attempt to change the subject, “what’s new in the world of crime?”

“Same old, same old,” Dino said. “You know how it goes.” He gave a little shrug, as if to say you’re on your own, pal.

“Excuse me,” Stone said, getting up. He went into the men’s room, though he didn’t need to, and splashed some water on his face, taking his time. They’d have to talk about something else, since he wasn’t there, and he could rejoin the conversation when the new subject was established. He dried his face and went back to the table.

“Stone,” Genevieve was saying, “while you were gone, Eliza and I were talking about having a little dinner party at Dino’s and my house. Saturday night? We’d all love to meet… what was her name?”

“Tatiana,” Stone said through clenched teeth.

“Can you come Saturday?”