He locked the door behind her and set the alarm, then led her through his office to the kitchen.

“This house just goes on and on, doesn’t it?”

“Sort of. I own the one next door, too. My people live there.”

“How many people?”

“Fred and Helene, my cook/housekeeper, and Joan Robertson, my secretary.”

“How convenient.”

“For everybody.” He set the food on the kitchen table. “I’ll get plates and some wine. You root around in that and see if there’s anything you like.” He set the table and put out half a dozen serving spoons, then got a bottle of good Chardonnay from the wine fridge and opened it.

“What would you like?”

“A couple of dumplings, lots of fried rice, General Tso’s Chicken, and the Grand Marnier Shrimp, for a start.”

She served them both and they ate greedily.

“I figured out why you have so many Matilda Stone paintings,” she said. “She was your mother.”

Stone’s mouth was full, so he just nodded.

“I looked her up on Wikipedia, and it said she had one son.”

Stone swallowed and washed it down with the wine. “You are correct,” he said.

“What was she like?”

“Just wonderful. She worked like a beaver all day and was transformed into a mother at quitting time.”

“I’m a little like that. I work like a beaver all day, then I turn into a sex maniac at quitting time.”

“Then I’d better stop eating, or I won’t be able to get my clothes off.”

“I’ll help,” she said.

The following morning, after their usual early-morning carnal cavort, Caroline took her shower and dressed in the change of clothes she had brought in her bag.

“I had a thought,” Stone said.

“Speak it, then, I don’t want to be late.”

“Why don’t we get out of town for the weekend? I’ve got a country place. We can breathe free up there.”

“What a good idea!”

“Can you shake loose from work after lunch?”

“I can go home, pack a bag, and be here by, say, noon?”

“Good. See you then.”

—

Jerry Brubeck got to his office by eight AM, as usual. He had not slept well, and he knew he was going to have to confront Gino, which always made him nervous. He made coffee and put the cheese Danishes he had bought on the way into the city on a plate, then poured himself a cup. At eight-thirty, right on schedule, Gino bustled into the office.

“Grab some coffee and Danish, Gino,” Jerry said. “We have to talk.”

“Oh, shit, not again.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that, but this is an entirely new talk.”

Gino hung up his jacket, poured himself coffee, took the Danish, and sat down at the table, opposite Jerry. “All right, take your best shot.”

“Part of this you’ve heard before,” Jerry said, “but you’re going to have to hear it again.”

“I’m listening.”

“We’ve got a good business here, but you’re screwing it up.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and I are in two different businesses. I’m running a modern, state-of-the-art beverage distribution business, and you’re running a mob family that isn’t really there anymore. You’re behaving like your father and his father before him, and you’re raising your son to do the same.”

“I like tradition,” Gino said, taking in a mouthful of Danish.

Jerry spoke hurriedly, to get his thought in while Gino was chewing. “We lost our advertising agency yesterday, because you’ve behaved like a jerk at every meeting we’ve ever had with them.”

Gino swallowed hard. “Fuck ’em,” he said. “We’ll get another agency.”

“They are the best agency in town, and now they’re representing our new competitor from Texas instead of us.”

“So what? That Texas guy is never going to make it. I’ll screw him up so bad he won’t know what hit him.”

“See, Gino, that’s what I’m talking about, that’s no way to run a business. Nowadays you compete by offering your clients good service and prices and by running a good advertising and marketing program. Gone are the days when you beat up the competition or shoot them, but that’s what you still want to do.”

“Listen, Jerry, you count the beans, and I’ll take care of the competition.”

“No, Gino. That’s not the way it’s going to happen anymore.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes, Gino, I’m threatening you. You and I each own forty percent of this business, and the rest is owned by other family members. I’ve counted noses, and I have a majority on my side. From now on, Bowsprit Beverages is a strictly legit business.”

“You little shit! You’re running around behind my back getting votes against me!”

“And you’re running around behind my back hiring goons to beat up people, or worse, for all I know.”

“Are you calling my son a goon?”

“That’s what you’ve made him into.”

“Well, he’s not that smart, I’ll admit, so I had to give him something to do.”

“Tell you what, keep him on the payroll until he can find something that suits his unique talents, but don’t let him near a customer or a competitor again.”

“Yeah, he’d like that, doing nothing for money.”

“That’s how it’s going to be, Gino. In fact, I propose that we keep you on salary, but you don’t participate in the business anymore.”

“Not gonna happen, Jerry, and you can’t make it happen.”

“There’s where you’re wrong, Gino. You’re my brother-in-law, and I respect that, but I have the votes to force you to sell out to me at the formula price stated in our contract. Is that what you want? Doing nothing?”

Gino suddenly seemed to get it. He held up his hands in a placating fashion. “All right, all right, we’ll do it your way, but I’ve got something set up, and I’m going to have to go through with it. I promise you, when I’m done, Perado will go back to Texas, and we’ll never hear from him again. You can keep Al on the payroll, but he won’t make any sales calls.”

“What have you got set up, Gino?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll all be over in a couple of days, and then you can run the business the way you want to.”

“All right, Gino, I’ll give you a week, then you take a powder from the business, or I’ll buy you out, your choice.”

“It’ll be okay, I promise you.”

—

Two men watched from the street as the garage door at the Barrington house rose, and a green Bentley Flying Spur backed out of the garage. They watched as the driver got out and went into the house. While he was gone one of the men, Frank, walked past the Bentley, looked around, then bent down and reached under the car for a moment, then went back and got into his own car.

“Did you get it done?” his companion, Charlie, asked.

“Of course I did, didn’t you watch? We can track him anywhere now, and watch him on the iPad. He’ll never know he’s being followed.”

“I’ll believe this when I see it.”

—

Stone and Caroline gave Fred their luggage and got into the Bentley.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Caroline asked.

“No, I don’t think so. Let’s make it a surprise.”

“Okay, I like surprises—good ones, anyway.”

“This is a good one.”

They passed through the Lincoln Tunnel and drove into darkest New Jersey.

“Have we picked up any tails, Fred?” Stone asked.

“No, sir, I’m keeping a watch.”

The car turned into Teterboro Airport and drove to Jet Aviation. A valet loaded their luggage onto a cart. “Your airplane is right down front, Mr. Barrington,” he said, and they followed him through the lobby and out onto the ramp.