Swimming to Catalina

don’t think you could make the case against Ippolito on the basis of the phone call, and Vinnie and Manny sure aren’t going to implicate him.”
    “Probably not. What do you want to do?”
    “Well, I’ve made a start; I sank their boat,Maria, very early this morning. She’s right in the middle of Marina Del Rey; they’ll have a hell of a time getting her up, and it will be very expensive.”
    Grant burst out laughing. “You’re tight, that’s a start. What next?”
    “I told you I thought there was a bookie operation running out of Vinnie’s Deli. Can you have it raided?”
    “I’d need probable cause for a warrant.”

    “How about a tip from a snitch?”
    “Who?”
    “Me. You can even put my name on it, if you have to.”
    “I think I can arrange a raid.”
    “Good; I hope your guys won’t be too careful with the fixtures and fittings.”
    “I’ll mention that. What else?”
    “This guy, Martin Barone? I’d like to know everything there is to know about him and Barone Financial Services.”
    “Okay.”
    “Do you know somebody at the FBI that you can trust?”
    Grant thought about that for a minute. “What part of the FBI?”
    “Them that deal with financial institutions.”
    “Yeah, I know a guy.”
    “I’d like to meet him.”
    “I’ll see what I can do.”
    “Tell him there might be a kidnapping involved; those guys love a kidnapping.”
    “Okay. Where can I find you?”
    “I’m back at Le Parc. I figure they won’t be looking for me there.”
    “No, but they might send a cleanup crew.”
    “Jesus, I hadn’t thought of that; I’d better get out of there fast.”
    “You need a place? I live about three blocks from here; my kid’s in college, you can have his room.”
    “Thanks, but I’d rather stick with hotels; I’ll let you know where I am.” Stone pulled out his cell phone and switched it on; it lit up, as usual. “Son of a bitch, it still works. I’ll have to write Motorola a nice letter.”

    “I can check with you on that number?”
    “Yep.”
    “Anything else?”
    “Rick, can you get hold of a handgun for me?”
    “Something untraceable, I suppose.”
    “I’d rather not fill out any federal forms.”
    “Stone, are you planning to shoot somebody?”
    “Not at the moment, but you never know.”

34
    Stone got himself out of Le Parc as fast as he could, first calling the Beverly Hills Hotel for a reservation. He might as well be comfortable, he thought, and hide in plain sight. He checked into a small suite and rang for the valet.
    “Yes, sir?” the man said when Stone opened the door.
    Stone held up his sodden suit, which he had hung on a hanger, and his shoes, into which he had inserted trees. “Do you think you can do anything with these?”
    The man gingerly lifted a sleeve and sniffed it. “Salt water?” he asked.
    “I’m afraid so,” Stone said. “A boating accident.”
    “I’ll have to soak it in fresh water first, to get out the salt, and then press it several times as it dries.”
    “Can I hope for the best?” Stone asked.
    “You can always hope, sir, but I won’t make any rash promises.”
    “Do the best you can,” Stone said, slipping the man fifty.

    “I most certainly will, sir.”
    The man disappeared, and Stone closed the door. He got some more sleep, and late in the afternoon took a call from Rick Grant.
    “I got the meet set up with my FBI guy, but it’s going to cost you an expensive dinner.”
    “Fine; where?”
    “Place called Michael’s, in Santa Monica, seven o’clock.” He gave Stone the address and directions.
    Refreshed and rested, Stone was at Michael’s on time; Rick and another man were waiting for him at a table in a lovely garden.
    “Stone, this is Hank Cable,” Grant said.
    Stone shook hands with the FBI agent.
    “We’ve met before,” the man said.
    “Where?” Stone asked, puzzled.
    “We had a meeting about the Sasha Nijinsky case, a few years ago, in New York. I was stationed there then.”
    “Now I remember.”
    “You were doing everything you could to keep us out of the case, as I recall.”
    “I believe I was,” Stone agreed.
    “I didn’t particularly hold it against you; it’s what we expected from the locals.”
    “I’m glad. What have they got you doing out here?”
    “I run the financial investigations division.”
    “Just the man I want to talk to,” Stone said, smiling.
    “Let’s order,” Grant said.
    They ordered drinks, perused the menu and ordered dinner,