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rang, andCarrie picked it up. “Hello? . . . Yes, he is.” She handed Stone the phone. “It’s your policeman.”
    Stone took the phone. “Hello?”
    “Afternoon. Sorry to disturb you on a Sunday, but I have some news.”
    “Shoot.”
    “Darla Henry was a high-class prostitute out of Palm Beach. She’s had two arrests in the past five years. Makes you wonder who she was selling her services to, doesn’t it?”
    “I have some news, too,” Stone said. “James Carlton has hired me to represent him.”
    “Uh-oh.”
    “Don’t think that way. He’s flying in from London tomorrow afternoon, and he’d be happy to meet with you.”
    “When?”
    “Say, six o’clock at his house?”
    “Fine with me.”
    “Other news—he gave a party last New Year’s Eve, before leaving for London the following day, and he can supply you with a guest list.”
    “I’d really like to have a look at that.”
    “You will. He wants to have the house cleaned before his arrival. Are you finished with the room that was furnished with a corpse?”
    “I guess so, we’ve been over it every which way twice. I don’t think he’ll want the mattress back.”
    “I don’t think so, either. His stay will be short, so youprobably won’t get a second shot at him. You should plan accordingly.”
    “I’ll do that, and I don’t think it will take long.”
    “I’ll let him know. See you tomorrow at six.” He hung up. “Looks like you’ll have me as a guest until Tuesday morning,” he said to Carrie.
    “I can stand that,” she replied. “I just hope you’re up to it.”
    “I’ll steel myself,” he said.
    “Steel is good.”

11
    A little after four the following afternoon, Stone’s cell phone rang. “Hello?”
    “It’s Jim Carlton. We’re ten minutes out, so I’ll see you at the house at five-thirty?”
    “That’s fine. Sergeant D’Orio will visit at six, and he’s given the okay to clean the affected room, but you won’t get the mattress back.”
    “He’s welcome to it. See you soon.”
    Stone walked over to the Carlton house at five-thirty. The front door was open. “Hello?”
    “Come in!” a male voice shouted. “In the study!”
    Stone found a book-lined room off the living room, and Carlton rose from his desk to greet him. “Welcome,” he said. “Can I get you a drink?”
    “Business first,” Stone said, taking a seat.
    “The cleaners have gone, and that guest room smells like limes,” he said, sinking back into his chair. “Do we know any more than the last time we spoke?”
    “The police did a background check on Darla Henry,” Stone replied. “She’s a high-end pro, working out of Palm Beach.”
    “I can usually pick those out in a crowd,” he said, “but nothing comes back to me from New Year’s Eve.” He handed Stone a sheet of paper. “Here’s the party list.”
    Stone ran a quick eye down it, spotting some celebrity names, then his eye stopped. “Harvey Biggers?” he said.
    “Yeah, he was there.”
    “It says, ‘Harvey Biggers and guest.’ Who was that, his wife?”
    “No, they split. I chose sides. I remember a pretty girl, a blonde, with Harvey, but not her name.”
    Stone took a copy of the deceased’s driver’s license photo from his pocket and showed it to Carlton.
    “That’s the girl with Harvey,” he said.
    “Was Harvey staying overnight?”
    “Nobody was booked in for the night, but some of them didn’t want to drive and left the following morning, I guess. I left around eight AM , myself, and nobody was stirring. I gave instructions to the staff to give breakfast to anybody who turned up.”
    “Did you actually see Harvey that morning?”
    “Nope. I don’t even know if he stayed.”
    “Well, we know he didn’t take his date with him.”
    “That’s clear.”
    “Did you fly private?”
    “Yep. I have a Gulfstream 450.”
    “That’s a good way to travel.”
    “Do you have a Gulfstream?”
    “No, but I often travel on them, courtesy of a business