Page 83 of Black Dog

“Can you give me the license number?”

“I can,” she said, consulting the paper in her bra.

“I’ll get back to you.”

—

Stone called Dino.

“Bacchetti.”

“It’s Stone. Can you run a plate for me?”

“In seconds,” Dino said, and Stone read him the number.

“Got it,” he said. He tapped the number into his computer.

“Who owns it?”

“A Delaware corporation. Registered a week ago.”

“Well, shit,” Stone said, knowing how impossible it would be to trace that.

“A neighbor’s, maybe?”

“They’ve already excluded that possibility.”

“Well, whatever branch of the tooth-fairy organization that handles Mercedeses has just dropped one in Joan’s garage. Congratulate her for me, will you?” He hung up.

Stone hung up and called Bob Cantor.

FORTY-TWO

Cantor answered on the first ring. “Speak to me.”

“It’s Stone Barrington, Bob. I wonder if you could solve a mystery for me.”

“Tell me your mystery, and I’ll see.”

Stone explained.

“Did you run the VIN, the vehicle identification number?”

“Joan didn’t think of that,” Stone said.

“We’re not going to get anywhere without it, unless I run down to Wilmington and ransack the State of Delaware’s files.”

“I’ll get back to you.”

Joan, who had just returned to Stone’s house, helpfully walked into his office and handed him a piece of paper. “I thought the VIN might be helpful,” she said.

“It would have been helpful the first time,” Stone replied. “Call Bob Cantor and give it to him.”

“Will do.” She left his office.

Bob Cantor called half an hour later. “Got something on the Mercedes for you.”

“Hit me with it.”

---