about Brownies, but itâs not the worst pack in the world to be in. I mean, some women watch Donahue every morning and others drink whiskey.â
Mareth Stone only closed her eyes. âI do both,â she said. âWhat does that make me?â
D.T. took a deep breath and looked at the woman for whom life was about to become a brawl. âWhere are your children, Mrs. Stone?â
âIn school. Why?â
âWhich school?â
âCountry Day. Why? â Worry polished her forehead.
D.T. pushed his telephone toward her. âCall them. Make sure your children are still there.â
âWhat are you saying? Do you think Chas has done something? He wouldnât .â
D.T. held up a hand. âI have no idea whether he would or wouldnât, I just know that divorce can get to be the stinkingest, slimiest thing you can imagine, and it can get there fast. I know that men whose wives have cooked their food and washed their socks and licked their cocks for twenty years will suddenly try to cut them off without a penny and see to it they spend the rest of their lives in a welfare line. And I know that a hundred thousand fathers kidnap their kids every year and a hundred thousand mothers spend the rest of their days looking for them. Or vice versa. Call the school.â
She looked at him oddly. âYou take all this personally, donât you?â
He met her eyes. âDo I?â
âI think so. Iâm surprised.â
âSo am I. Call the school.â
D.T. waited while she placed the call and enjoyed her relief when she learned that the children were there. D.T. whispered to her to instruct the school to keep them inside until she picked them up, which she did. When she hung up she looked at him fearfully. âIs there a place you can take them for a while?â he asked.
âI donât know. My parents arenât good with them, not at all. My friends seem at odds with their own so much, I donât know. Iâll have to think.â
âAfter you pick them up you should go to your bank and take all the money out of all the accounts you can lay your hands on. I mean all . Plus you should empty all the safe deposit boxes and get a new one in a different bank and put the stuff in it. Okay?â
âBut is that fair? I mean â¦â
âIn this business fair is first, Mrs. Stone. Besides, my guess is youâre going to discover your husband has beat you to it and the accounts will be empty. So be prepared.â
She lowered her head. âItâs like preparing for war, isnât it, Mr. Jones?â
âThatâs exactly what itâs like, Mrs. Stone. And your husband is already marching through Poland so weâve got to get busy.â
âI didnât think it would be like this, somehow,â she said quietly. âNot us.â
D.T. nodded. âThe whole world thinks itâs an exception. I felt the same way when I was drafted. It lasted till I got shot. Thereâs one more thing.â
âWhat?â
âCall a locksmith and change the locks on your house. Then search it for any kind of business papers you can find. Deeds, stock certificates, anything having to do with property. Eventually Iâll want to know everything you own, you and your husband I mean, so start getting together anything that will help. Do you have a stock broker or does your husband handle it?â
âMy husband.â
âDo you own any real property besides your home?â
âA cabin at the lake.â
âCall your realtor and tell him your husband is not authorized to act for you in any way. How many cars do you have?â
âThree.â
âTake the one youâre driving and park it in a long-term garage. Take a cab home and use the second one. I assume your husband drives the third.â
âYes.â
âHow much do you need a month, Mrs. Stone? To support you in the manner to which youâve