“What’s up?”
“I made a few calls about Onofrio Ippolito.”
“What did you find out?”
“It was really weird; nobody would say anything about him, good or bad.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, every time I asked somebody about Ippolito he’d say, ‘Oh, he’s a banker, I think,’ and then he’d get Alzheimer’s. And these are people who should know stuff about him, people who know stuff about everybody.”
“So they’re protecting him?”
“More likely, they’re scared shitless of him.”
“Maybe I should have been nicer to him at dinner.”
“I hope you didn’t spill anything on him.”
“I hope so, too.”
“It worries me, Stone. I’ve never run into anything quite like this before. Usually I can find out anything about anybody with three or four calls.”
“Well, there’s nothing to be worried about. I sat next to him at dinner, and that’s it. There’s no reason why I should have any further contact with him.”
“I’d keep it that way, if I were you.”
“I’ll try; thanks for your help.” Stone said goodbye and hung up.
He opened the second little envelope and the message froze him in his tracks.
SORRY I MISSED YOU, it read. I’LL TRY LATER, IF I CAN. It was signed “A.”
11
Stone immediately called the hotel operator. “I got a message signed ‘A.,’” he said. “What time did the call come in?”
“It should be written on the message, Mr. Barrington,” the woman replied.
“Oh, yes; less than half an hour ago.”
“I’m double-checking…yes, that’s right.”
“She didn’t leave a number?”
“No, sir, just said she’d try and call later.”
“Do you have caller ID on your phone system?”
“Yes, sir, but we rarely use it.”
“Would you please make a note that on all the calls I receive to make a note of the caller ID number?”
“All right, I’ll do that; and I’ll let the other shifts k
now.”
“Thank you.” Stone hung up. Vance had been right; getting his name into the trade papers had produced results. If only he’d been at home when she called. He fixed himself a drink from the bar, switched on the television news, and watched it blankly, absorbing none of it. When his glass was empty, he got into the shower and stood under the very hot water, letting his muscles relax. Then, as he turned off the water, he heard the phone ringing. Grabbing a towel, he raced into the bedroom, but just as he reached for the instrument, it stopped ringing; all he heard was a dial tone. “Dammit!” he yelled at nobody in particular. He called the operator. “You just rang my suite, but I was in the shower. Who called?”