Stone Barrington 06-11

but I was transporting an officer on duty. Did you get an ID on the guys in the SUV?”
    “Yeah. They were FBI, and they wouldn’t tell us what they were doing. I wrote ’em a ticket for grossly excessive speed.”
    “Good for you. Thanks, that’s all I needed to know.” Stone hung up and turned to Ham. “Well, it looks like absolutely everybody is following us.”
    “What’s your take on what happened in the park?” Ham asked.
    “I think they wanted it to look like a mugging, and they didn’t want to attract anybody with the noise of a gunshot. They used a dart on Daisy, then tried to knife Holly. They would have knifed Daisy, too, once she was out. So somebody would have stumbled on a jogger and her dog, both dead.”
    “Why not use a silencer on both?” Ham asked.
    “Because it would then look like a professional hit. The dart thing is funny, though. It’s not the sort of thing mob guys would normally think of using.”
    “This Trini guy is not a normal mob hood,” Ham said. “He’s a lot smarter and a lot worse. He would think of the dart.”
    “Maybe so.”
    “Good thing I came up here,” Ham said. “While I’m in New York, she doesn’t leave this house without me watching her back.”
    “Sounds good to me,” Stone said.
    “Oh, and you may as well move her back into your room,” Ham said. “I get the idea that’s where she wants to be.”
    Stone gulped. “Up to her.”

29
    H OLLY AND DAISY slept straight through until the following morning. When they came down for breakfast Stone was scrambling eggs, and Ham was having coffee.
    “Daisy looks like she had a few too many beers last night,” Ham said, rubbing her flanks.
    “She’s fine, just a little groggy,” Holly replied.
    Stone set three plates of eggs on the table and they all dug in.
    “This is good, Stone,” Ham said. “What’s in it?”
    “Smoked salmon and a little cream.”
    “You’re going to make some girl a wonderful wife one of these days,” Ham said.
    Holly spoke up. “I guess that means Ham approves of you, Stone. Otherwise he wouldn’t be trying to marry me off to you.”
    “I never said—” Ham began.
    “Oh, shut up, Ham. You’re transparent.” She turned to Stone. “Ham has suddenly decided it’s time I got married. I think he wants grandchildren.”
    “Now, I—”
    “Well, not much chance of that, Ham.”
    “I can live without grandchildren,” Ham said. “You do what you want. That’ll make me happy.”
    “I want Trini Rodriguez, and I don’t want to wait another couple of days for the FBI to spirit him out of town. You know they’re not going to hand him to me, don’t you, Stone?”
    “I wouldn’t think so,” Stone replied. “You got any ideas?”
    “Well, I can canvas Little Italy for him again.”
    “I may have a better idea,” Stone said.

    It had been quite some time since Stone had visited the old man in the outer reaches of Brooklyn, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He finally decided that what had made him reluctant was not the father, but the daughter who was locked in an upstairs room of his house.
    He parked his car and was met at the front door by Pete, the short, thick former hoodlum who served as Eduardo Bianchi’s butler and bodyguard.
    “Long time,” Pete said.
    “Yeah,” Stone said, and followed the man through the house and out into the back garden, where Eduardo sat at a wrought-iron table, wearing a dark suit, as was his custom. He rose to meet Stone, and it took him a little longer than on Stone’s last visit. “How are you, Stone?” Eduardo asked.

    “I’m fine, Eduardo. Are you well?”
    “I’m better than a person of my years can reasonably expect to be. Please sit down. Lunch will be here soon.”
    “You look wonderful.” Stone paused. “And how is Dolce?” Dolce was Eduardo’s youngest daughter, to whom Stone had once been married for a few minutes before she had degenerated into a murderous psychotic.
    “I wish I could tell you she was well,” Eduardo replied, “but she’s not. Her condition has worsened to the point where she has tried to kill everyone who has anything to do with her, including me. She has a degenerative brain disease, something like Alzheimer’s, that has caused all her behavior. Now she doesn’t even recognize her family. I’ve had to have her removed to a facility where she can be made comfortable and where she can be secured from harming herself or others.”
    “I’m very sorry to hear