“I’ll be there.”
Stone hung up. Kennerly was stirring now, and swearing. A moment later Joan led two police officers into the room.
“This our guy?” one of them asked.
“That’s the assailant,” Stone replied. “I’d appreciate it if you’d use your cuffs and give me mine back.” He gave them an account of the incident, Joan backed it up, then the two cops recuffed Kennerly, stood him up and frog-marched him out of the room.
“I’ll get you for this!” Kennerly screamed on his way out.
“Please make note of that threat,” Stone called to the cops and got a thumbs-up in return.
Stone went back to his desk and called Tatiana.
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Stone. Good news: Henry just came over here and took a swing at me with a club.”
“Oh, Stone, I’m so sorry. Are you badly hurt?”
“Not at all. I said it was good news. He’s on the way to the police station now, and I imagine it will be some hours before his attorney can bail him out. Call your lawyer and tell him to add assault with a deadly weapon to Henry’s list of misdeeds.”
“I will do so immediately.”
“I think your settlement problems will all be over before the weekend, to which I am greatly looking forward.”
“And I as well.”
“Pick you up Saturday morning at ten?”
“See you then.”
Stone hung up, feeling he had done a good day’s work.
59
On Saturday morning Stone collected first Tatiana from her home and then Carla from the Carlyle, and they headed north to Litchfield County.
The two women chatted amiably, which was good, as long as they weren’t chatting about him. He hated the thought of the two of them in the ladies’ room together.
“How much longer are you singing at the Carlyle?” Tatiana asked.
“I’ve just finished three months in the Bemelmens Bar,” Carla said, “and, after a few weeks’ rest and preparation, I’m moving into the Café Carlyle, across the hall, with a bigger backup group, and we’ll be there through New Year’s Eve.”
“That sounds like a wonderful step up,” Tatiana said.
“It certainly is a promotion, and the money’s better, too. And I’ll like having a six-piece group backing me, instead of just a bass player. The arrangements are being written now.”
They drove on, and the conversation fell away in favor of exclamations about the increasingly beautiful fall foliage as they headed north. Finally, they arrived at Barton’s house, and he came out the kitchen door to greet them.
“Stone, Peter Cavanaugh and Julian Whately will be staying over tonight – no women or companions along this time – so will you and Tatiana come over around six for a drink?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Peter will have the final contract ready for our signatures, and we’ll have plenty of witnesses. “I’d also like your help in showing them the mahogany secretary.”
“I’ll be glad to help.” Stone got Carla’s bags from the car, then he and Tatiana continued to his house.
“So,” Tatiana asked, “who will be at dinner tonight?”