“I expect you’ll have all of that, and if there’s no minibar, there’s always room service. Oh, by the way, security will be severe at the gate, so expect, maybe, a cavity search.”
“Promises, promises.”
—
They were received at reception with apologies for the lack of more luxurious accommodations, then driven in an electric cart to their room, which had a very nice view of a stucco wall around someone else’s patio.
The bellman handed Herbie the key to the golf cart. “Compliments of Mr. Barrington,” he said.
“Could you give me directions to his house?”
The man unfolded the hotel map and pointed out the Barrington cottage, then he left, having been rewarded with a very good tip.
“Pretty nice,” Harp said, looking around.
“It’s where they put the help, like corporate pilots,” Herbie explained.
Harp unpacked everything and put her things in the closet and chest of drawers provided, then kicked her cases under the bed.
“I’m impressed,” Herbie said, looking around.
“This way we have more space,” she replied, and Herbie followed suit.
“What should I wear to dinner?” she asked.
“I’ve been instructed to wear a necktie, and presumably, a suit. An LBD should do.”
“An LBD it is,” Harp replied, inspecting the minibar and retrieving two tiny bottles of Chivas Regal.
“Are those both for you, or may I have one?” Herbie asked.
Harp poured them into separate glasses and handed him one. They toasted, then she reached behind and unzipped her dress. “Now,” she said, “I believe you promised me a cavity search.”
—
Herbie and Harp arrived at Stone’s cottage at ten past seven, and were met at the door by their host. “Come and meet everybody,” he said. He led them into the living room. “You know Dino and Viv, of course, but you haven’t met my son, Peter, his girl, Hattie, and Dino’s son, Ben, and his girl, Emma.” Then he turned toward a tall, blonde beauty in a knockout dress. “And this is Hattie’s guest, Immi Gotham.”
Herbie went weak in the knees but managed to shake her hand. Harp was more composed. “Like everybody else, I’m a great admirer of your work,” she said.
“Immi is giving a concert tomorrow night,” Stone explained, “and Hattie, on piano, is going to open for her, and later, accompany Immi for her encore.”
“I can’t wait,” Herbie said, accepting a scotch from a waiter.
“I understand you’re an attorney with Stone’s firm in New York,” Immi said.
“That is correct,” Herbie replied. “Stone was my mentor and role model.”
“I’m going to be buying a place in New York soon,” Immi said, “and Stone is going to help me with the legal work.”
“I’m sure the whole firm will be standing in line to help you,” Herbie replied.
“And, Harp,” Immi said, “I understand you’re a private eye?”
“For lack of a better term,” Harp replied.
“I’ll let you know if I need any private eyeing,” the actress said.
The doorbell rang. “Excuse me, we’re quite a crowd tonight. It’s going to be a buffet.” Stone went to answer the door and came back with Felicity Devonshire, Holly Barker, and the president and first lady.