Dirt

you, kind sir. You really know what to say to a girl.”
    Stone felt a need to change the subject. “Have you seen either of your brothers lately?”
    She set her drink down. “Why don’t we change the subject for a while?”
    “What did you have in mind for a subject?” he asked mildly.
    “Oh, if you knew what I had in mind,” she said, smiling.
    He believed he did know, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle it. He certainly didn’t want to annoy her and get thrown out before he had found out what he came for, and she was extremely attractive, except for the booze, and he was feeling just a little boozy himself. What canon of ethics covered this situation? None, he decided; he was on his own. Then he saw her nipples rise under her sweater. He had never seen that happen before. He was lost. “Your nipples are hard,” he said.
    “How can you tell?” she asked, “when you haven’t touched them?”
    He reached out and rubbed the back of his fingers lightly against her breasts. “Confirmed,” he said.
    “Not really,” she said. She pulled her sweater over her head, released her bra from behind, and dropped it on the floor.
    “Reconfirmed,” he said, reaching for her.
     
     
    He got out of the shower and went to find his clothes in the kitchen seating area. Once dressed, he decided to look around. There was a phone book on the kitchen counter, and under “Tommy” was scribbled “Chelsea Hotel.” He wondered how old that address was. He went into the living room and found nothing of interest, then tried the library. On a bookcase were a lot of silver-framed family photographs. One of them had been taken in some tropical place; there were palms and a beach. A man dressed in the uniform of a navy lieutenant was standing next to a handsome blond woman. Arrayed at their feet were two little boys and an older girl of maybe twelve — pretty, straw-haired, smiling.
    “Better days,” she said from behind him. She was tying a robe around her.
    “I thought you were sound asleep,” he said.
    “So you just thought you’d have a look around.”
    “Yes, I did.”
    “Did you find what you were looking for?”
    “Beg pardon?”
    “Did you find Tommy and Charlie?”
    “No. Would you like to tell me where they are?”
    “Why do you want to find them?”
    “I told you, it’s a personal matter. One of them — Tommy, I think — has my wristwatch; it has a lot of sentimental value.”
    She smiled. “Tommy always loved watches. Strange thing.”
    “Where is he?”
    “In New York; but you know that already.”
    “Yes. Do you have an address for him?”
    “Last I heard, Tommy had an apartment on Ninety-first Street.”
    “Not any more; he’s moved. Do you know where?”
    She crossed her arms. “He may be a bastard,” she said, “but he’s my little brother.”
    “If you tell me where to find him, I may be able to keep him from getting into more trouble than he’s already in.”
    “What kind of trouble?”
    “Stealing, mostly.”
    “From you?”
    “Among others.”
    “I talked to him last night, for the first time in more than a year; he said he was about to strike it rich.”
    “Did he say how?”
    “He said that he possessed very valuable knowledge. That’s all he said.”
    “And you don’t know where he’s living?”
    She looked at the floor and shook her head.
    He couldn’t blame her. He walked to where she stood, kissed her on the cheek, and left.
     
Chapter 51
     
    Stone drove slowly back toward the city, through slush, ice, and fresh snow, which had turned into a blizzard. In spite of his recent shower he felt somehow dirty. His sex life had always been serendipitous, and he liked it that way; in the normal course of his life he would have enjoyed his encounter with Lou Burch and reflected pleasantly on it, but his life had taken a new course with Arrington, and it troubled him that he had not once thought of her until he was back in the car. Guilt was new to him, and he didn’t like it.
    Just short of the George Washington Bridge traffic came to a complete halt, and he began to fear that it might be permanent. He got out his pocket phone and called Dino.
    “Afternoon,” Dino said.
    “Already?” Stone looked at his watch; it was nearly two.
    “Happens every day.”
    “Dino, I’ve finally got something on our boys.”
    “Shoot.”
    “An old acquaintance did some checking for me with what I believe was Central Intelligence. Turns out our boy, Jonathan, who