“Rosaria makes a wonderful cheesecake. Now. I have spoken to…certain parties and, I believe, have made some progress. It seems that the prosecution of Mr. Dante turned on what was said on some surveillance tapes made by the district attorney’s investigative division. The odd thing is that, in spite of the evidence, which was played in court for the jury, Dante denies ever having spoken the words on the tape.”

“So the tapes were doctored?”

“Mr. Dante’s lawyers, of course, had the tapes examined by experts, but they were unable to find any evidence of their being tampered with. They will have them examined again, by other experts. The parts in question, although they comprised hardly more than a minute of the tapes, were crucial to the conviction of Mr. Dante, and he still insists that he never spoke those words. Since he did not testify in his own defense, he was unable to make the denial in court, not that it would have helped.”

Stone nodded. “May I use a telephone?”

“Please use the one in the study,” Bianchi said. “I think I will have a little cheesecake.”

Stone went into the study, hoping against hope that Martin Brougham’s telephone number was not unlisted. It was not. He called the number, and when a woman answered, asked to speak to Bill Eggers, hoping he was still there. He was.

“Hello?”

“Bill, it’s Stone; listen carefully: the tapes that Marty used to convict Dante were somehow falsified by Deacon, or somebody in his division. I have this on very good authority.”

“Thank you,” Bill said. “That’s very interesting.”

“How’s it going?”

“Call me tomorrow.” He hung up.

Stone hung up and went back to the kitchen.

“This information was helpful?” Bianchi asked.

“I believe so; I won’t know for sure until tomorrow.”

“I would very much like to know the outcome of this,” Bianchi said.

“I will certainly let you know.”

“It is terrible to see such abuses of power by public officials,” Bianchi said. “To think that a man like Brougham could destroy another’s livelihood for nothing more than his own political benefit. He wants to be district attorney, of course, when the present occupant of that office finally vacates.”

“I’ve heard that.”

“Perhaps it would be a public service if that could be prevented,” Bianchi said.

“Perhaps so.”

“I will give it some thought.” Bianchi looked at his watch. “Well, it is getting late; I must go. I will leave you young people to your evening.” He shook hands with Stone, and Dolce walked him to the front door.

Stone had another cup of coffee and waited for her to return.

She came in. “Now you can bring your bags up,” she said, kissing him.

Stone went to the garage for his luggage and returned.

“Your father knows we were together in Connecticut,” he said.