Dirt

were a lot of women coming to his apartment.”
    “Figures,” she said. “I can really pick ’em, can’t I?”
    “Your record is improving.”
    She reached across and squeezed his hand. “It certainly is,” she said.
    Stone’s pocket telephone rang. He dug it out and pressed a button. “Yes?”
    “Stone, it’s Amanda.” Her voice was shaky.
    “Hi, are you all right?”
    “I’m afraid something awful has happened.”
    “Tell me.”
    “I’m up at the Connecticut house. Martha and I went for a walk and a picnic, and I’m afraid she strayed too close to a bluff called Steep Rock.”
    “Go on.”
    “She fell, and I couldn’t stop her.”
    “Is she badly hurt?”
    “It was a long fall, and there were rocks at the bottom.”
    “I see,” he said. “Where are you now?”
    “I’m still at Steep Rock; this happened only a moment ago.”
    “Have you called the police?”
    “No; I wanted to talk to you first. After all,
you’re my lawyer.
”
    Stone noted the emphasis on those words. “Amanda, I want you to call nine-one-one right this minute and report what happened.”
    “All right. Can you come up here?”
    “I’ll have to rent a car, so it’s going to take at least two and a half, three hours.”
    “All right.”
    “After you’ve talked to the police, ask them to take you back to your house; I’ll meet you there. If anything else comes up, call me on this number.”
    “All right. Good-bye.”
    Stone hung up. “Jesus Christ,” he said.
    “What’s happened to her?” Arrington asked.
    “Not to her, to her secretary, Martha. She’s had what sounds like a fatal accident.” Stone began to wonder if “accident” was accurate.
    “You’re going to Connecticut, then?”
    “Right now; I’ve got to rent a car first.”
    “I’ve got a car; I’ll drive you.”
    “You don’t have to do that.”
    “I
want
to drive you.”
    “Then let’s go.” He waved for the check, paid the bill, and they took a cab uptown to Arrington’s garage. Twenty minutes later they were in Arrington’s Jeep Grand Cherokee, on their way.
     
     
    When they arrived at Amanda’s country house, a state police car was parked out front, and two uniformed troopers were leaving.
    Stone got out of the car and handed them his card. “I’m Stone Barrington; I’m Mrs. Dart’s attorney.”
    “I’m Captain Quentin,” one of them said. “This is Sergeant Travis.”
    Stone shook their hands. “Can you tell me what’s happened?”
    “Mrs. Dart said she phoned you.”
    “That’s right, but she was pretty shaken up, and I’d like to know what you’ve learned.”
    “The two women went for a walk up to Steep Rock, took a picnic lunch. According to Mrs. Dart they had lunch, drank a bottle of wine between the two of them. Miss McMahon got up to stretch her legs, wandered too close to the edge of the bluff, and fell.” “Is she dead?”
    “Yes. Her body finished up a couple of miles downriver, at a weir. It’s being taken to the state morgue in Hartford for an autopsy, but I don’t think there’s much doubt about the cause of death. For now we’re calling it an alcohol-related accident.” “Is it absolutely necessary to report alcohol-related on this? Mrs. Dart is a very well-known person, and her reputation might suffer. From what you’ve told me she has no culpability; it was an accident, after all.” “I can leave it out of my initial written report, but the final determination will be made by the medical examiner. It will depend on the blood alcohol level.”
    “Thank you, I appreciate that,” Stone said. He shook the men’s hands. “Is there any reason why Mrs. Dart can’t return to New York when she’s ready?”
    “None at all; we have her phone number in the city if we need to get in touch with her.”
    “If you need to speak with her, I’d appreciate it if you’d call me,” Stone said.
    “Sure. Good afternoon.”
    The two men left, and Stone opened the front door. “Amanda?” he called out.
    “I’m in the kitchen,” she called back.
    They left their coats in a hall closet and went to the kitchen, where Amanda was washing and putting away dishes, apparently from the picnic. She showed only a trace of surprise at seeing Arrington.
    “You remember Arrington,” Stone said. “We were having lunch when you called, and she offered to drive me up here.”
    Amanda shook her hand. “How very kind of you, Arrington.”
    “How are you feeling?” Stone asked.
    “Still shocked,