Read Stone Barrington 36 - Scandalous Behavior for Free Online Page B

it’s in the library, I’ll wear a necktie.”
    “That’s all the advice I need,” she said. “See you in ten minutes.” She hung up.
    Stone looked at the bedside clock: ten to seven. He bounced out of bed, got into a blazer, gray flannels, and a striped tie, and walked down the stairs to the library, which he found empty, but with a fire alight and the card table set. The remaining half-bottle of the Batard-Montrachet was in an ice bucket beside the table and a bottle of Romanée-Conti La Tache was on the table, open and breathing. He was still trying to calculate the cost of the wine he was drinking that day when Susan swept in, wearing a black cocktail dress and gorgeous jewelry. “Evening, all,” she said.
    “Evening. Drink?”
    “You did such a nice martini at lunch, I’ll have that again, please.”
    Stone mixed it, poured, and set it on a silver tray with his bourbon, then offered it to her. “Someone was kind enough to lay in a stock of Knob Creek,” he said.
    “The staff are anticipating your wishes,” Susan replied. “It’s off to a good start, you are.”
    They sat down on the sofa facing the fire, where a tray of canapés awaited them. “I’m beginning to feel at home already,” Stone said, “and it’s not even twenty-four hours that I’ve owned the house.”
    “When I’m done here you’ll feel even more at home,” she said.“It’s a specialty of mine, making the owner feel at home in his house.”
    “May I place an order with you?”
    “Of course.”
    “I like the king-sized mattress on my bed—very comfortable—but I would prefer a pair of extra-long twins that can be electrically adjusted. Also, I haven’t been able to find the television set.”
    “Beds noted—I have a source. On your return from America, they will have been installed, and I’ll have fitted sheets for you, too. Do you like the Irish linen sheets?”
    “Very much, as long as they’re changed or ironed every day.”
    “I will convey that to Elsie. Mmmm, this is a very fine martini.”
    “And the TV set?”
    “It arises from a piece of antique furniture at the foot of your bed, and its remote control is in the bedside table drawer.”
    “How long have you been working on this house?”
    “About fourteen months,” she replied. “Of course, that includes waiting times for almost everything to arrive.”
    “What have you done here that I can’t see?”
    “Well, we’ve reupholstered seventy pieces of furniture, virtually everything except a dozen or so leather pieces that have worn well with age. We’ve replaced all the house’s main systems—boilers and air-conditioning system—refinished many of the mahogany and walnut pieces of furniture, installed a twenty-four-extension office-quality telephone system, new TV sets andDVRs in every bedroom, and in here, had the Steinway grand completely rebuilt and refurbished.”
    “I didn’t know there was a piano. Where is it?”
    “On a truck, on the way down, be here tomorrow. Where would you like it?”
    “In this room, I think,” he said, pointing. “Over there.”
    “It shall be done. Do you play?”
    “A bit. I played my first gig in twenty years last Saturday night, in Positano.”
    “Where in Positano? La Sirenuse, perhaps?”
    “No, in a private house owned by a very important mafioso. My co-instrumentalists were a guitarist who is a policeman, a bassist who is an officer of the CIA, and a drummer who is the police commissioner of New York City. I also wore a false nose and mustache and pretended to be blind.”
    She laughed. “That sounds like a fascinating story. Tell it to me, please, all of it.”
    Stone gave her a fifteen-minute version of the events in Italy.
    She couldn’t stop laughing. “Your girlfriend must be very grateful to you.”
    “On the contrary, she punched me in the face at the first opportunity and hasn’t spoken to me since.”
    “Why, the ungrateful bitch! Does she know about the reward you posted for her