Stone Barrington 06-11

“See you in PB.”
    Shames rang for the elevator. “Now, about Liz,” he said to Stone. “What do you want to know?”
    “Describe her appearance.”
    Shames held a hand across his chest. “She comes up to about here.”
    “Five-five, five-six?”
    “I guess.”
    “Was she wearing heels?”
    “I’m not sure.”
    “Hair color?”
    “A dark brunette.”
    “Long? Short?”
    “To her shoulders; maybe a bit longer.”
    “How old was she?”
    “Thirtyish, I guess.”
    “Weight?”
    “Mediumish, I suppose.”
    “Body?”
    “Attractive.”
    “Anything else distinctive about her appearance? Nose?”
    “Turned up.”
    “Eyes?”
    “Blue, I think.”
    Jesus, Stone thought, I’m glad the girl didn’t commit a crime; she’d get away with it.
    The elevator arrived, and they got on.
    “Let’s talk about her name again, Thad. What made you think that Liz might not be her real name?”
    “Just a feeling.”
    “Try to remember if she said anything specific about her name.”
    “I asked her, ‘What’s your name?’ And she said, ‘Liz will do.’ And I said, ‘What’s your last name?’ And she said, ‘Just Liz.’”
    “Well, she’s pretty cagey. Do you think she knew who you were?”
    “If she did, she didn’t give any sign of it. She asked me what I did, and I told her.”
    “What did you tell her?”
    “I said I was a software entrepreneur. She said, ‘Like Bill Gates?’ And I said, ‘Well, not quite on that scale.’ That was the only time we talked about work.”
    “You didn’t ask her what she did?”
    “Oh, yeah, I did. She said, ‘I’m retired.’ And I said, ‘From what?’ And she said, ‘From marriage.’”
    “So she divorced well?”
    “I guess.”
    “How was she dressed?”
    The elevator reached the ground floor, and they went to the checkroom.
    “She was wearing this sort of dress.”
    “Did it look expensive?”
    “I guess. I mean, she looked beautiful in it, and it was a pretty expensive crowd at the party.”
    “How about jewelry?”
    “I think she was wearing earrings. Yes, diamond earrings. Those little stud things, you know? Except they weren’t all that little.”
    “Wedding or engagement ring?”
    “A big diamond, but not on her left hand.”
    “So she didn’t return her engagement ring after the divorce.”
    “I guess not.”
    “Necklace? Bracelet?”
    “A gold necklace and a gold bracelet, I think with diamonds. Nothing flashy, though.”
    “How about her speech; any sort of accent? Southern? Midwestern?”
    “American. No accent that caught my attention.”
    Stone got into his coat, and they left the hotel. “Right across the street, there,” he said, pointing to the shop. He led the way, avoiding ice patches and slush in the gutters. “Don’t you have a coat?” he asked.
    “It’s in the car,” Shames said, nodding at a stretched black Mercedes that was making a U-turn, following them.
    Stone held the shop door open for Shames, then pointed the way upstairs. They emerged onto the second floor and went into the shirt and tie room.
    “Gosh!” Shames said. “I’ve never seen so many colors. You pick out something for me.”
    “What size?”
    “Sixteen. The sleeves usually aren’t long enough for me.”
    “These will be pretty long,” Stone said. A salesman showed them the sixteens. Stone riffled through them and picked out a blue-and-white narrow-striped shirt. “How about this?”
    “Fine.”
    Stone picked out a tie and a complementary silk pocket square and handed them to a saleslady. “Send these down to the shoe shop, please.” He led the way back downstairs to the shoe shop.
    “This is a really nice place,” Shames said, looking around.
    “You’d never heard of it?”
    “No, and it’s right across the street from the hotel, too.”
    A salesman approached, and Stone helped the man choose some dignified oxfords and some socks.
    Shames handed the man a credit card.
    “There’s a dressing room,” Stone said, pointing. “Why don’t you put those things on?” He waited, and when Shames returned, he had made a mess of tying the tie. Stone retied it for him and stuffed the silk handkerchief into his breast pocket. “You could pass for a captain of industry,” Stone said. “That’s a really nice suit.”
    “I had it made in London. This is the only time I’ve worn it.” Shames signed the credit card chit and checked himself out in a mirror. “Something doesn’t look quite right,” he said. “What is