Kisser (19 page)

“Not particularly.”

“Well, if I take out my finger, they can hear everything you say.”

“Okay,” she said, “keep your finger in your ear. It’s starting to look attractive that way.”

Stone took a big slug of his drink. “God, I needed that.”

“You know,” Dino said, “this is the funniest evening I’ve ever spent in this joint. I’ve never laughed so much.”

“It’s good for you,” Elaine said.

Stone looked up to see Mitzi Reynolds walk into the restaurant, and she headed for his table.

She gave him a kiss. “Don’t tell me, you’ve lost the little wire, and you’ve got your finger in your ear so they can’t hear you downtown.”

“Drop it,” Stone said.

She leaned over and whispered in his left ear. “Rita Gammage is outside in a limo; why don’t you and I join her, and we’ll go down to your house and have some fun.”

“What, with this thing in my ear?”

“I’ll show you how to get it out without the wire,” she said.

“You’re on,” Stone replied. “Will you excuse us?” he said to Elaine and Dino before tossing back his drink.

“What, you’re not eating?” Elaine said, looking shocked. “You took up a whole table, and you’re not eating?”

“Dino’s the one taking up the table,” Stone said, “and he’s eating. Maybe I’ll eat later.”

“What’s going on?” Dino asked.

“Something’s come up,” Stone replied.

Mitzi leaned over and whispered, “Something’s
going
to come up.”

They left the restaurant and got into the rear seat of the limo. Rita was there, and she kissed Stone and continued to kiss him as they rode downtown, while Mitzi unzipped his fly and got a hand inside.

“This is working,” she said.

Stone still had a finger in his ear. They got to his house and upstairs. “How do I get this thing out?” he asked. Rita was working on his buttons.

“Stand over the bedside table,” she said, “with the right side of your head down. Stick your finger in your left ear, hold your nose with your right hand, take a deep breath and blow, but hold your breath in.”

Stone followed the instructions and the bug popped out onto the table. “Thank God,” he said.

Rita had his shirt off, and Mitzi was getting his trousers down. After another few seconds of the frantic shedding of clothes, the lights were turned off, and they were all naked in bed.

Stone lay on his back while somebody kissed him and somebody else had his penis in her mouth. He couldn’t tell which was which in the dark, but it hardly mattered. He did what he could with his hands, then somebody mounted him and somebody else sat on his face. He could not remember such a medley of sensations.

AFTER A WHILE,
they all lay in a heap, panting and sweating.

“So, Stone,” somebody asked, “how was that?”

Stone was panting too hard to reply.

“Again?” the other voice said.

“You’d better start without me,” Stone said, and they did, while he explored their bodies with his fingers, entering here and there. The two girls were talking to each other and to him, issuing instructions while they played, then they both seemed to come again, nearly simultaneously.

“Let’s order a pizza,” someone, perhaps Mitzi, said.

“What kind?” Rita asked.

“Domino’s—Extravaganza, hold the green peppers,” Stone said.

But nobody could move, and they dozed off.

STONE WAS JERKED
awake by the noise the front door bell was making on the telephone. He picked it up. “Yes?”

“Pizza delivery,” a voice said.

“Hang on,” Stone replied. He found a robe and some money, then went down to the front door and brought the pizza upstairs. The girls were sitting up in bed, and the light was on.

He handed them the box and got some beer out of the little bar fridge.

Mitzi was looking at him oddly. “I remember talking about pizza,” she said, “but I don’t remember anybody actually ordering it.”

Rita opened the box and held up a slip of paper. “What is this?”

Stone took it and read it aloud. “ ‘From the guys at the First Precinct. Bravo!’ ”

“Uh-oh,” Mitzi said, pointing at the bedside table.

The little bug sat there where Stone had dropped it, pointing toward the bed.

This time they rested and dozed a little.

34

STONE HAD NEVER EXPERIENCED
a night quite like it. The pizza had revived them, and after having stuffed the ear bug into his sock drawer, they began again.

Now, at ten in the morning, they were having breakfast in Stone’s garden, snug behind the ivy-covered brick walls on either side of them and facing the Turtle Bay Common Garden at the end.

The girls seemed fresh as a daisy—showered, shampooed, coifed, and made up, their clothes freshly pressed with Helene’s iron. Stone was freshly showered, shaved, and dressed, too, but despite his having drunk a cup of strong Italian coffee—and he was now drinking his second—he felt tired, sore, and sleepy.

“Do you have any important work to do today, Stone?” Rita asked.

“Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow,” he mumbled.

“Then maybe you should go back to bed,” she said.

“And maybe we could join you!” Mitzi offered.

Stone held up his hands in a gesture of pleading. “Not today; maybe never again.”

“We’ll see about that,” Mitzi said.

“What I need is a massage,” Stone replied.

“I’d love to do that, but I’ve got a meeting at the precinct.”

“Thank God,” Stone said.

“And I have to go to work,” Rita added.

“And good luck to you.”

Mitzi spoke again. “The meeting downtown is about our next step with Derek Sharpe.”

“What about Sig Larsen?” Stone asked.

“The feds have taken an interest in him. We’re going to give them the recordings that you and I make.”

“That you and I make when?” Stone asked.

“Perhaps as early as this evening,” Mitzi said, “so you’d better get some rest.”

“Has Brian Doyle explained to you how dangerous this is, and why?”

“You mean from Derek’s rivals in the drug game?”

“I do.”

“I’m not particularly worried about that; we’ll be well protected. Still, I’m going to armor up, and you should, too.”

Stone nodded.

The girls got up and took turns kissing him.

“And don’t forget your ear bug,” Mitzi said.

“I think you’re going to get a hard time from the guys at your meeting,” Stone said.

“Oh, no; they’ll save that for you, and it will be mostly admiration. They have no idea who you were with last night.”

“I hope not,” Stone said, waving good-bye to them.

LATER, STONE WAS
so zonked out on the massage table that the masseuse had to turn him over when the time came. He had no memory of it when she finished. She helped him to the bed, and he fell into it, his body an oily overcooked noodle.

IT WAS
a little after five when Mitzi called. “We’re on for tonight,” she said.

“Do we have to go to Sharpe’s studio? It’s dangerous there.”

“No, this is about Sig and my so-called money, so we’re meeting at 740 Park at seven. After Sig makes his pitch and we’ve recorded that for the benefit of the feds, I’ll take Derek aside and tell him I need some drugs for a friend.”

“Good. Don’t tell him you’re a user, or he’ll make you use some with witnesses around.”

“My story is that I use only booze, which is all he’s seen me use.”

“What are you going to ask him for?”

“Half a pound of marijuana and five ounces of coke.”

“Are you going to have cash?”

“I’ve already signed for it.”

“You’re not going to get a receipt for the drugs, you know.”

“Don’t worry, we have a bookkeeping way of keeping track of that.”

“You should insist that he give you the drugs in the apartment, too, not at his place and especially not in a car.”

“Yeah, yeah, Stone, I know. We’ve worked all that out. Can you be at the apartment at six thirty?”

“Yes, I guess so.”

“We can have dinner afterward,” she said.

“Okay. See you then.” He hung up.

He had just gotten out of the shower when the phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Carrie.”

“Good afternoon.”

“Dinner tonight?”

“I can’t; business.”

“Cop business?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“How much longer is this going to go on?”

“I hope not much longer.”

“Me, too. I’ve been working hard, and I miss you.”

“Same here,” he said, but he didn’t sound very convincing.

“You sound funny.”

“I just had a massage, and I’m half asleep.”

“Oh.”

“Any movement from Max?”

“Not a peep out of him. Tomorrow’s the last day I’m using the Leahys. I really don’t feel threatened.”

“I would advise you to keep them on for another week, at least.”

“They’re expensive!”

“You can afford it. Max’s check cleared, didn’t it?”

“It’s already in T-bills,” she said.

“Keep them on for another week.”

“We’ll see. Bye-bye, sweetie.” She hung up.

Stone struggled out of bed and into some clothes. He was about to leave his bedroom, but he remembered something. He went to his sock drawer, retrieved the ear bug, and slipped it into the ticket pocket of his jacket.

He arrived at Rita’s apartment on time, and Mitzi greeted him with a big kiss. She leaned into his left ear. “You were sensational last night.”

“So were you,” he said, “but you don’t have to whisper; the bug’s in my pocket.”

“Mine’s in my ear,” she whispered, “so be careful.”

Stone nodded.

Mitzi held out her hand. “Give it to me,” she mouthed.

He dug out the bug and handed it to her, and she stuffed it into his right ear and pushed it home with the tip of her little fingernail.

“All set, guys,” she said. “They should be along in about twenty minutes,” she said to the air. “In the meantime, all you’re going to hear is the clink of ice cubes.” She went to the bar and poured them each a Knob Creek.

Stone accepted it gratefully, then sat down to rest and wait.

35

AT FIVE MINUTES
after the appointed time the phone in Rita’s flat rang, and Mitzi picked it up. “Yes, please send them up,” she said, then hung up.

“They’re not going to like having a lawyer here,” Stone said.

“I’ll handle it,” Mitzi replied. She went to the door and let in Derek Sharpe, Sig Larsen, and Sig’s wife, Patti. This time there was no maid to serve, so Mitzi trotted out some pre-prepared hors d’oeuvres from the bar fridge, then handed Stone a bottle of vintage Krug champagne to open.

Stone was stunned that Mitzi would waste such a fine bottle on these people, but he uncorked it and filled their thin crystal flutes.

After some small talk Sig placed his briefcase on the coffee table, snapped it open, and lifted the lid. “Mitzi, we have some very exciting things to talk with you about,” he said, “but do you always have your attorney present at financial meetings?”

“Stone is not my attorney,” Mitzi said. “He’s just a friend I’ve been seeing a lot of who happens to be an attorney.”

“Still,” Larsen said, “I’d be grateful if we could meet alone with you. We’ll be discussing some highly confidential information.”