Dirt

him?”
    She glanced at her watch. “Ten minutes ago.”
    Stone sat up straight. “He followed you here?”
    “Yep. He was out there this morning. Change of clothes, but the same raincoat.”
    They were only a couple of feet above the sidewalk. “Do you see him now?”
    “Nope, but he was down that way a couple of minutes ago.” She pointed toward Fifth Avenue.
    “I’ll be back in a minute,” Stone said. “Don’t leave.”
    He left the room and walked outside. Traffic was heavy on the sidewalk. Stone walked purposefully, west on Central Park South as far as the corner of Sixth Avenue, then all the way back to the front of the Plaza, checking every face coming and going. Nothing. He entered the hotel by the front door and made a sweep of the hallways and the Palm Court, but the man was not in sight. He returned to the Oak Room.
    Tiffany was still at the table, but the Perriers had been replaced by two martinis. “I switched,” she said. “I ordered one for you, too.”
    Stone fingered the glass, but did not pick it up. “It’s a little early for me,” he said.
    “Then leave it; I’ll drink it.”
    “Have you told Dick about this man?”
    “Not yet.”
    “Tell him, but don’t use the phone in your apartment; it may be bugged.”
    “Dick was always careful about that.” She pulled a tiny cellular phone from her coat pocket. “That’s why he gave me this.”
    “Be careful, even using that, and don’t see him until I get a handle on this.”
    “He won’t like that,” she said with a small smile, taking a large swig from her martini.
    “I’ll talk to him. In fact, can I borrow your phone?”
    She handed it over.
    “What’s his number?”
    She gave it to him. “That’s his cellular. Let it ring once, then hang up; that’s our signal. He’ll call back as soon as he can.”
    Stone followed her instructions, then set the little phone on the table. “How long will he take?”
    “Depends; if he’s in a meeting, it could be a while.”
    Stone eyed the martini but didn’t pick it up.
    “Oh, go on; it’s good for you. There was an article in the
Times
this morning, said it’s good for you.”
    “I’ve got to keep a clear head,” Stone said.
    She leaned forward, and her cleavage made an entertaining sight. “A clear head is not always an advantage,” she said.
    Stone managed a chuckle.
    “Tell me about you,” she said.
    “Not much to tell.”
    “Are you seeing anybody?”
    “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”
    She looked disappointed. “Pity.”
    “It’s flattering that you think so.”
    “I spend so much time alone,” she said. “Quite frankly, Stone, I’d like some company.”
    The phone rang, and Stone silently thanked God. “You answer,” he said, “then I’ll talk to him.”
    She picked up the phone and punched a button. “Hey,” she breathed. She listened for a moment, then smiled. “I’d really love to, but someone sitting here says we shouldn’t. I’ll put him on.” She handed the phone across the table.
    “It’s Stone.”
    “What the hell are you doing with her?” Hickock demanded.
    “Someone has been following her, and I’m checking it out.”
    “Following her? Oh, God.”
    “Exactly. And I have to tell you that someone is likely to be following you in very short order.”
    “What do you know that I don’t know?”
    “Your wife is considering divorce.”
    “How do you know that when I don’t know that?” he demanded.
    “I can’t go into that, but it’s a fact. For God’s sake, don’t let her know that you know; just play it out, and for the time being, don’t go anywhere near the young lady or her apartment.” There was a groan from the other end of the phone.
    “I know that’s tough, but it’ll be tougher still if you’re seen together. I’m going to send someone over to her apartment to find out if there’s any electronic surveillance in the building.” “If there is, can you get rid of it?”
    “If there is, I’m going to leave it in place. As long as we know it’s there, it can’t hurt, and it could be useful.”
    “I’ve got to see her,” Hickock said, and he sounded pathetic.
    “Please take my advice, and don’t. And it would be best if you didn’t talk on the cellular phone, either, unless you’re willing to be overheard. It’s not that tough to listen in.” “How long is this going to last?”
    “Until either your wife tells you she wants a divorce, or until you make up with her.”
    “God.