“All right, tell them to drop the surveillance on Carrie, and tell them to explain carefully to her that they think there’s no longer any danger.”
“Oh, thank you!” Bob said with a faked sob. “Bye-bye.” He hung up.
Stone tried to think of something to do.
42
STONE WAS HAVING A SANDWICH in the kitchen when the phone rang. Joan was at lunch, so he picked it up. “Stone Barrington.”
“It’s Tiffany Baldwin, Stone,” said the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York.
“Hello, Tiff,” he said warily. “I didn’t know you were speaking to me.”
“Well, you made up for everything by sending me this very nice fax this morning.”
How the hell did she know it came from him? “Which fax was that?”
“The one about this character, Sig Larsen.”
“Oh, that one.”
“I know you sent it to the NYPD first, but when I got it, it still had your imprint at the top from your fax machine.”
“Oh.”
“This is a very interesting situation,” she said.
“Is it?”
“Yes, it’s the first I’ve heard of it.”
“I thought the NYPD had mentioned Larsen’s name to you.”
“Maybe to a minion, but it didn’t float up to my desk until your fax came in.”
“I’m happy to be of help.”
“Have you actually met this Larsen?”
“Yes, I have.”
“What did you think of him?”
“A very slick con man, I thought.”
“And he’s trying to fleece your client?”
Stone didn’t want to pour out everything about Mitzi’s undercover work; he didn’t know if she had heard about that. “In a manner of speaking,” he said.
“I assume it’s a she.”
“I don’t know why you assume that, but she is a she.”
“It’s always a she with you, isn’t it, Stone?”
“Sig Larsen isn’t a she.”
“And how did you happen across Mr. Larsen?”