At the sound of the first shot, Sylvia began running flat-out toward the rear exit from the kitchen. It was at least a hundred feet and she brushed past a waiter, dumping a tray of dirty dishes onto the floor with a crash. “Out of my way!” she yelled to a busboy with a tray of glasses, and he obeyed just in time to save his burden.

Sylvia hit the door running and burst out of the building onto East Fifty-sixth Street, a block uptown from the hotel’s entrance. A few yards ahead a couple were hailing a cab, and as the man opened the door for his companion, Sylvia dived into the rear seat and slammed the door behind her.

“Hey!” the man outside the door yelled.

She retrieved a fifty from her bra and thrust it at the driver. “The Waldorf-Astoria,” she said.

The driver took the fifty. “Yes, ma’am!” Then he stepped on it.

—

Stone pressed his body against Hank. “Not yet,” he said. He waited for more gunfire, and when all he heard was yelling, he released her and they moved out of the elevator. Dino was standing, his gun in his hand, watching as half a dozen detectives poured into the dining room.

Stone put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right, buddy?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dino said, “but Ryan isn’t.” He looked at his left shoulder, where the padding from his jacket had been exposed. “He fucked up a brand-new suit, though.”

“As long as you’re okay.”

“Get Hank out of here, will you? She doesn’t need to be questioned. Viv will be all right with me.”

Stone turned to see Viv, still in the elevator, holding the door open. “He’s okay,” he said. Then he turned to Hank. “Let’s go, and right now.” He took her arm and steered her toward the front door of the hotel. As they emerged, the doorman signaled for the first in a line of cabs to move up. They got in, and Stone said, “The Waldorf-Astoria.” The driver made a U-turn and then a right on Park Avenue.

“What happened back there?” Hank asked.

“Somebody who had it in for both Dino and me apparently took a shot at Dino, and that was not to the perpetrator’s benefit. Are you all right?”

“I think so,” she replied, “but I don’t think I want to be alone for the next few hours.”

“Then we mustn’t let that happen,” Stone said.

The taxi came to a halt in front of the Waldorf, and as Stone and Hank got out, a buxom woman showing a good deal of cleavage took their place in the cab.

—