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Authors: Stuart Woods
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murmured some words of condolence. Stone took a seat in the front pew, next to his son, Peter, and his girlfriend, Hattie Patrick.
A moment later, the president-elect entered from the Fiftieth Street side of the cathedral, and Stone rose to greet her. She spoke briefly to Mary Ann, then came and sat by Stone. She squeezed his arm, then sat with her hands in her lap, her head bowed.
The cardinal had just finished his prayer when there was a small stir behind where Stone sat, and he was aware of someone taking a seat in the pew directly behind him, but he did not turn to look.
A procession of the city’s prominent persons—the mayor, the chairmen of the boards of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and two other important museums, and Tom Donnelly, Dino’s predecessor as police commissioner, now a candidate for mayor, all spoke of what Eduardo had meant to their work and to the city. There followed another performance by the choir, then the cardinal gave his benediction and the service ended.
Stone stood and chatted with Kate for a moment.
“Can you and your kids come to the Carlyle for dinner tonight at seven?” she asked.
“We’d love to,” Stone said, then the Secret Service escorted her to where the cardinal waited to say goodbye, then led her out the way she had come—a slow process, since everyone wanted to shake her hand.
Stone turned to look at the people behind him, then froze.
Dolce was sitting quietly in the pew directly behind him. She rose and held out her hand.
“Hello, Stone,” she said softly, holding out her gloved hand.
Stone took her hand. “Hello, Dolce,” he said. “How are you?”
“Much better than the last time we met,” she said.
Stone recalled that, on that occasion, she had been carrying a butcher knife. “I’m so glad,” he said.
“Will you be coming back to the house?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Perhaps we might talk for a moment there.”
“Of course.” She was the last person on earth he wished to speak to.
She left the pew and spoke to a few attendees. Then Mary Ann approached her, they air-kissed and spoke for only a moment.
People lingered to schmooze in the pews and aisles, but gradually the crowd dissipated, and Stone made his way back to Dino’s car. Peter and Hattie got into the Bentley, with Fred at the wheel. Mary Ann and Ben were driven in a black Mercedes.
“A nice send-off, huh?” Dino said.
“Very nice. Did you see Dolce?”
“She was there?” Dino asked, alarmed.
“Sitting directly behind me.”
“Jesus, if I’d known I’d have had some men there.”
“She seemed… normal, whatever that is for Dolce. You’ll see her at the house.”
“Oh yeah,” Dino said, “I’m really looking forward to that.”
Eduardo Bianchi was interred in a mausoleum in a grove of trees behind the mansion. The cardinal prayed, and the casket was moved into the little building, then it was locked and the key given to Mary Ann.
The group of about a hundred people wandered back to the house, where a buffet had been laid out in the dining room. Stone had seen that the forgeries of Eduardo’s paintings had been rehung in their original places.
“They look real to me,” Dino said.
“They looked real to everybody,” Stone said, “until somebody noticed that check mark on a painting’s frame.”
Stone had something to eat and moved around the room, speaking to those he knew. Then he looked up and saw Dolce standing in a side doorway. She crooked a finger at him and beckoned.
Stone gulped.
Stone left through the side door and stepped into the hallway. Dolce was just disappearing into Eduardo’s study at the end of the hall. He walked slowly toward the study and hesitated at the doors. Finally, he figured he had to do this sometime, and it might as well be now.
He opened the door and peeked through. Dolce was sitting at her father’s desk across the room. He walked into the room, leaving the door open behind him.
Dolce rose, walked around the
A moment later, the president-elect entered from the Fiftieth Street side of the cathedral, and Stone rose to greet her. She spoke briefly to Mary Ann, then came and sat by Stone. She squeezed his arm, then sat with her hands in her lap, her head bowed.
The cardinal had just finished his prayer when there was a small stir behind where Stone sat, and he was aware of someone taking a seat in the pew directly behind him, but he did not turn to look.
A procession of the city’s prominent persons—the mayor, the chairmen of the boards of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and two other important museums, and Tom Donnelly, Dino’s predecessor as police commissioner, now a candidate for mayor, all spoke of what Eduardo had meant to their work and to the city. There followed another performance by the choir, then the cardinal gave his benediction and the service ended.
Stone stood and chatted with Kate for a moment.
“Can you and your kids come to the Carlyle for dinner tonight at seven?” she asked.
“We’d love to,” Stone said, then the Secret Service escorted her to where the cardinal waited to say goodbye, then led her out the way she had come—a slow process, since everyone wanted to shake her hand.
Stone turned to look at the people behind him, then froze.
Dolce was sitting quietly in the pew directly behind him. She rose and held out her hand.
“Hello, Stone,” she said softly, holding out her gloved hand.
Stone took her hand. “Hello, Dolce,” he said. “How are you?”
“Much better than the last time we met,” she said.
Stone recalled that, on that occasion, she had been carrying a butcher knife. “I’m so glad,” he said.
“Will you be coming back to the house?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Perhaps we might talk for a moment there.”
“Of course.” She was the last person on earth he wished to speak to.
She left the pew and spoke to a few attendees. Then Mary Ann approached her, they air-kissed and spoke for only a moment.
People lingered to schmooze in the pews and aisles, but gradually the crowd dissipated, and Stone made his way back to Dino’s car. Peter and Hattie got into the Bentley, with Fred at the wheel. Mary Ann and Ben were driven in a black Mercedes.
“A nice send-off, huh?” Dino said.
“Very nice. Did you see Dolce?”
“She was there?” Dino asked, alarmed.
“Sitting directly behind me.”
“Jesus, if I’d known I’d have had some men there.”
“She seemed… normal, whatever that is for Dolce. You’ll see her at the house.”
“Oh yeah,” Dino said, “I’m really looking forward to that.”
Eduardo Bianchi was interred in a mausoleum in a grove of trees behind the mansion. The cardinal prayed, and the casket was moved into the little building, then it was locked and the key given to Mary Ann.
The group of about a hundred people wandered back to the house, where a buffet had been laid out in the dining room. Stone had seen that the forgeries of Eduardo’s paintings had been rehung in their original places.
“They look real to me,” Dino said.
“They looked real to everybody,” Stone said, “until somebody noticed that check mark on a painting’s frame.”
Stone had something to eat and moved around the room, speaking to those he knew. Then he looked up and saw Dolce standing in a side doorway. She crooked a finger at him and beckoned.
Stone gulped.
Stone left through the side door and stepped into the hallway. Dolce was just disappearing into Eduardo’s study at the end of the hall. He walked slowly toward the study and hesitated at the doors. Finally, he figured he had to do this sometime, and it might as well be now.
He opened the door and peeked through. Dolce was sitting at her father’s desk across the room. He walked into the room, leaving the door open behind him.
Dolce rose, walked around the
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