Read Lucid Intervals (2010) for Free Online

ER. You, on the other hand, would be calling 911 before you hit the pavement.”
    “You bet your ass I would,” Stone said, sipping his new drink. “The really weird thing is, Eduardo told me that his butler—what’s that guy’s name?”
    “Pietro,” Dino said. “ That guy really gave me the willies.”
    “Pietro taught Dolce to use a knife when she was a teenager. Eduardo implied that she was good enough to disable Mario without killing him.”
    “Now that is very good indeed,” Dino said. “Somehow I don’t think she’ll have as much consideration for you, unless it’s to let you die more slowly. She would want to watch.”
    “We’d better order dinner before I order another drink,” Stone said.
    “I think you’d better keep your wits about you,” Dino said. “Where’s Felicity?”
    “She called and said she was hung up in a meeting; she’ll join us here.” A waiter brought menus.
    Felicity came in and sat down before they could order. She gave them both a kiss on the cheek. “Order for me, will you, Stone?”
    “Of course.”
    “But something light. I think I gained five pounds last night.”
    “How about the Dover sole?”
    “Perfect.”
    He ordered the same for both of them, and Dino ordered pasta. He also ordered Felicity a Rob Roy.
    “So,” Felicity said, “have you begun our little project?”
    “I’m not listening,” Dino said.
    “You may listen,” Felicity replied. “In fact, you may even be of help. Go on, Stone.”
    “My guy has gotten access to the security tapes at the Seagram Building on or around the dates you gave us,” Stone said. “We’ll review them tomorrow.”
    “Good thought,” she said. “What else?”
    “One of my guys also mentioned an Englishman’s love of his tailor, and it seems likely that he’s still having his clothes made.”
    “A very good possibility,” Felicity said. “My father practically went into mourning when his tailor died.”
    “We’re looking at New York tailors who make English-style suits.”
    “Very good.”
    “Since Dino can listen now, may I show him the photo?”
    “Better yet, I’ll give him a copy,” Felicity said, opening her briefcase and handing the picture to Dino.
    “Who’s the guy?” Dino asked.
    Stone explained. “Do you have access to the FBI’s facial comparison program?”
    “I can manage that,” Dino said.
    “I’m sure Felicity would appreciate it if you’d run that photograph. Who knows, maybe we’ll get a match.”
    “It’s twelve years old,” Felicity reminded him.
    “Ask them if they can age him twelve years,” Stone said.
    “Okay.”
    “And ask them to give him a nose job, too.”
    “Yeah, that’s quite a honker,” Dino said, looking at the man’s profile.
    Felicity laughed. “Yes, it is quite a honker.”
    “There’s something else I have to tell you,” Stone said to Felicity, “which is unrelated to your work.”
    “And what might that be?” She took a sip of her Rob Roy.
    “A woman has been hanging around across the street from my house for . . . a while.”
    “I’m not surprised,” she said.
    “The thing is, she’s dangerous.”
    “And what makes her dangerous?”
    “Mental illness and a considerable facility with a knife.”
    “An unattractive combination,” Felicity said. “What does she look like?”
    “Like a Sicilian princess,” Stone said.
    “That’s a good description,” Dino agreed. “It’s also what she is, right to the bone.”
    “Should I go about armed?” Felicity asked.
    “It couldn’t hurt,” Stone said. “I’ll loan you something, if you like.”
    “Oh, I can manage,” Felicity said.

9
    S tone sat in Bob Cantor’s van, parked right outside the Turtle Bay house, and looked at the surveillance tapes from the Seagram Building.
    “I’ve copied them and done some editing and enhancing,” Cantor said, “so what you’re seeing is the most likely candidates.”
    Stone watched a videotape of men entering the building and the