Swimming to Catalina

doing a lot of major sucking up,” she said.
    “I can imagine. Did Marty say anything to you about his relationship with Ippolito?”
    “He refers to him as the boss sometimes. Not to me, but on the phone. I’m sure that’s who he’s talking about. My turn for some questions.”
    “All right.”
    “Are you a cop?”
    “No, but I used to be; now I’m a lawyer.”
    “What’s your interest in Marty and Ippolito?”
    “I think that both of them are mixed up in organized crime.”
    She rubbed her forehead. “I was afraid of something like that,” she said. “I was beginning to get this feeling.”
    “Where is Marty now?”
    “He left this morning for Mexico, or that’s what he said, anyway.”
    “Barbara, I think you ought to get off the boat as soon as possible.”
    “I don’t have anywhere to go,” she said, “and I’m about out of money.”
    “What about the friend you stayed with before?”
    “We didn’t part on such good terms.”
    “Have you got a lot of stuff on the boat?”
    “Two suitcases and a hanging bag.”
    “Tell you what: you go back to the marina, pack up, and I’ll meet you at the restaurant where we met in an hour, okay?”

    “But where will I go?”
    “You can stay with me, until we figure something out. Don’t worry about money.”
    “Okay, let’s do it.”
    “One other thing: remember I asked you if you had ever driven a white Mercedes convertible?”
    “Yes.”
    “You didn’t really answer me. Do you know the car?”
    “I drove it here today,” she said. “It’s in the parking lot.”

36
    Stone arrived at the Marina Del Rey restaurant on time, but there was no sign of Barbara. Arrington’s car was parked near the chandlery, though. When she was fifteen minutes late, Stone began to worry. Then she came up the ramp from the pontoon, struggling with her bags, one of which was on wheels. Stone ran to help her.
    When they were in the car, she looked into her handbag. “Damn,” he said, “I’ve still got the keys to the Mercedes; I’ll have to take them back to the boat.”
    “Wait,” Stone said, thinking. “Don’t take the keys back; drive the car to the hotel.”
    “I can’t just steal the guy’s car,” she said.
    “It’s not his car, and don’t worry, he won’t report it stolen.”
    “Stone, I don’t want to get into trouble.”
    “Believe me, I’m getting youout of trouble.”
    “Oh, all right.” She went to the Mercedes, and Stone led the way back to the hotel.

    He called the parking valet aside. “Bury the SL500 somewhere,” he said, handing the man a twenty. “We won’t need it for a while.” He gave his room key to Barbara, along with tip money for the bellman. “You go on upstairs; there’s something I have to do.”
    “What am I supposed to do in a hotel room?”
    “I’ve arranged for you to sign, so do some shopping downstairs, or go out to the pool again, if you like.”
    She brightened. “Okay; see you later.”
    It wasn’t very far down Sunset to Vinnie’s Deli. Stone parked on a side street facing the boulevard and looked at his watch: just in time, he thought. Ten minutes passed, then an unmarked car pulled up to the deli, and Rick Grant and another man got out and went into the place. Stone raised his binoculars and watched as they stood at the counter, ordering something and watching the counterman buzz two hoods through the door to the back room. Rick and his companion sat at a table and began eating their sandwiches. From down the block, a large white van slowly approached the deli.
    It was beautifully coordinated. Rick and the other cop got up from their table, walked behind the counter, and pinned the counterman to the wall. The van opened, and a dozen SWAT team members spilled out and into the deli. Rick hit the buzzer under the counter, and the door to the back room opened as SWAT cops oured into the room. A moment later, two paddy wagons arrived on the scene, and a moment after that, the cops started loading arrestees into the wagons; among them was Vinnie Mancuso, Stone’s swimming instructor. The whole thing took less than ten minutes.
    When Rick Grant left the restaurant, Stone turnedonto Sunset and pulled up in front of the deli, rolling down the opposite window. Grant walked over to the car.
    “That seemed to go well,” Stone said.
    “Couldn’t have gone better,” Grant replied. “You want to come down and watch while I interrogate Mancuso?”
    “Love to. Come on, I’ll give you a