“What was that?”

“When he asked you who you were going out with.”

“Well, yeah.”

“First time I’ve ever known you to be without at least one woman on the available list.”

“It’s certainly a dry spell,” Stone admitted.

“You want a date tonight?”

“You mean with somebody besides you?”

“I’ve been seeing this assistant DA lately.”

“You sly dog; you never said a word.”

“Her name’s Doris Trent.”

“Sounds like an old soap opera.”

“Maybe, but she’s pretty nice.”

“Are you offering me your girl, Dino?”

“Certainly not. She has a friend.”

“Uh-oh.”

“I hear she’s all right. What the hell, you might like her. Her name is Willa Crane.”

“Oh, all right. Where are we dining?”

“I thought maybe the Park Avenue Café.”

“Sounds good.”

“I thought we’d come to you at seven for a drink, give you a chance to impress the lady with your good taste, then dine at eight.”

“All right. I’ll get Helene to do us some of her hors d’oeuvres.”

“See you then.”

Later, Stone showered and got into a suit and necktie, because he knew that’s what Dino would wear, then he went downstairs to the library.

Helene, as requested, had laid out some things to nibble on and had placed a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Grande Dame champagne in a silver ice bucket. Stone removed the plastic wrap from the tray and tossed it, then got some champagne flutes from the bar cabinet. At ten past seven, the doorbell rang. Stone picked up the phone and pressed the electric unlock. “Come in,” he said.

He walked to the living room and waited for the elevator to stop, then open. Dino emerged with two women: one was very small and cute; the other was tall and, Stone had to admit to himself, drop-dead gorgeous, with long, straight black hair, dressed in a black-and-white sheath that reminded him of a pinto pony. He held his breath while introductions were made.

“Stone Barrington, this is Doris Trent,” Dino said, indicating the small one.

Stone heaved a sigh of relief. “Hello, Doris.”

“And this is Willa Crane,” Dino concluded.

Stone shook her hand. “Hello, Willa,” he said. “Please come into the library.” He led them into the next room, seated them, and began to open the champagne. “Would anyone like anything else besides champagne?” he asked.

Heads were shaken. He popped the cork and poured, then set the tray of food on the coffee table and took a good look at Ms. Crane, wondering about her.

He took a glass for himself and sat down next to her. “Willa, what do you do?”

“I’m a deputy district attorney,” she said.

Deputy. That meant she was a career prosecutor and senior in the office. He supposed she was thirty-five.

“Tried anyone interesting lately?”

“Well,” she said, “I thought about prosecuting a client of yours, but I haven’t decided yet.”