LATER, they checked into a three-bedroom cottage at the Bel-Air Hotel.

“What did you think about how things are going?” Stone asked Mike.

“I was impressed,” Mike said. “Everything is on schedule. Frankly, I hadn’t expected that.”

There was a large bowl of fruit on the entrance hall table, and a note addressed to Stone, from the manager. He read it aloud to Mike and Dino. “The Bel-Air welcomes the competition,” it said. “We’ll do our best to show you how it’s done.”

Everybody had a good laugh.

On the living room coffee table was a large flower arrangement, with an envelope. Stone picked it up and handed it to Dino. “It’s addressed to you.”

“It can’t be,” Dino said. “Nobody knows I’m here.”

“Nevertheless, it has your name on it,” Stone replied.

Dino took the envelope and opened it. His face fell.

“What?” Stone asked.

Dino handed him the note inside.

Stone read it: “I hope you had a good trip,” it said. “See you when you return.” It was signed, simply, “S.”

“Uh-oh,” Stone said.

“Yeah,” Dino agreed.

“What is it?” Mike asked.

“Nothing much,” Stone replied, “just a note from a serial killer of Dino’s acquaintance.”

24

THE FOLLOWING MORNING they visited the building site again and talked more with the architect and construction foremen, then they drove back to Burbank Airport and boarded the G-550. They were back at Teterboro in time for Stone and Dino to make the opening of Marla’s new show.

AT THE final curtain Stone and Dino stood and beat their hands together and cheered, along with the rest of the audience. Marla and Rita took their bows, and finally, the curtain fell again.

They strolled through Shubert Alley over to Sardi’s and were seated at a large round table, which gradually began to fill up. Marla and Rita arrived looking freshly scrubbed and excited.

“It was wonderful,” Stone said.

“Do you really think so?”

“Everybody in the house thought so, and the critics will, too. You’re looking at a long run.”

Dino turned to Rita. “Am I ever going to see you again?”

“I get one night off every week,” she said.

THE PARTY continued past midnight, then somebody arrived with a stack of newspapers, and the producer stood on his chair and read the reviews aloud, to appreciative applause from the crowd.

Stone looked around the room and saw someone familiar. He turned to Dino. “Hey, remember our final dinner at Elaine’s, when a tall redhead clocked some not-so-innocent bystander?”

Dino looked tense. “Yeah. Why?”

“Because I just caught a glimpse of her over there somewhere,” Stone replied, pointing.

“Oh, shit,” Dino said.

“What’s wrong?”

“That’s Shelley.”

“Who’s Shelley?” Rita asked.

“Somebody Dino doesn’t want to meet,” Stone said.

“Why not?” she asked.

“There was some unpleasantness a while back.”

“What kind of unpleasantness?”

“Rita,” Dino said, “let it go. Please.”

“Well, I guess I know what you’ll be doing when it’s not my night off,” she said, digging him in the ribs.