Reckless Abandon (3 page)

6

STONE’S FIRST REACTION was to send Lance on his way, but, as it happened, things had been a little slow in the way of work, and a fresh injection of business could help his cash flow. “What are we talking about?” he asked.

“Just a little legal work,” Lance replied, studying his well-manicured nails.

“Look at me when you lie to me, Lance.”

Lance looked up. “Why do you think I’m lying?”

“Because you’ve never said anything to me that was the truth. Ever.”

Lance shrugged. “Surely you understand that that was business. I was carrying out an assignment important to the national interest, and you were helping.”

“Yes, but I didn’t know that.”

“I wasn’t allowed to tell you, and it was important that you didn’t know. In fact, you never would have been involved at all, if I hadn’t been in a situation of, shall we say, temporarily interrupted cash flow. I needed your quarter of a million, which you very kindly supplied, and you made a very tidy profit from the arrangement. Where else could you have gotten a return of four hundred percent in less than thirty days?”

“
Everybody
was lying to me, especially Hedger.”

“Hedger is dead. Did I mention that?”

Stone took a quick breath. “No, you didn’t. Do I want to know how and why? I assume he didn’t keel over of a coronary.”

“No, he was expertly stabbed by somebody who worked for you.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Stone demanded.

“Remember those two retired British cops you hired to follow me around London and bug my house?”

Stone hadn’t known that Lance knew about that, so he said nothing.

“You’ll remember that Hedger’s people beat up one of them very badly, so badly that he later expired.”

“Go on.”

“Well, his mate took exception to that and held Hedger accountable. He knifed him in a mews a short walk from the Connaught, while you were still in London.”

“I didn’t know,” Stone said.

“Scotland Yard hushed it up, the knifer having been one of their own. Had an exemplary military record, too, killing people in the Special Air Services. That detective inspector, Throckmorton—unlikely name, isn’t it?—didn’t think a shady American spook’s life was worth a blip in the happy retirement of one of their former officers.”

“And what did the Agency have to say about that?”

“Almost nothing. Somebody gave Throckmorton a good lunch and received the details. They shook hands and went their separate ways. Hedger is now a star on the memorial in the lobby of the headquarters building at Langley.”

“The more I learn about your business, the less I want to learn about it.”

“You shouldn’t feel badly about Hedger. He was a bad apple; been using his position for years to enrich himself in various underhanded ways, and the Agency was sick of him. Good riddance and no trial or publicity. His death didn’t even make the tabloids, let alone the
Times
. His alumni newsletter ran a nice obit, though, most of it lies.”

“An ignominious end,” Stone mused.

“In Hedger’s case, deservedly so.”

“What is this legal work you want done? It isn’t illegal work, is it?”

“Oh, no, no, nothing like that. It’s pretty simple, really: A fellow we hired for some contract work got himself into a scrape with the local law, and—”

” The local law where?”

“Right here in Gotham, actually.”

“Go on.”

“There’s a DUI and some other minor stuff involved. He needs a lawyer, and we feel honor bound to provide him with one. We’ll pay five hundred an hour.”

Stone’s normal fee for that sort of thing was three hundred an hour. “That is not ungenerous.”

“We don’t want it to go to trial, you see; could be embarrassing and might even reveal information detrimental to national security.”

“You mean, detrimental to the Central Intelligence Agency.”

“Same thing. Do we have a deal?” Lance held out his hand to shake.

“Oh, all right,” Stone said, shaking the hand. He picked up a pen and pad. “What’s your client’s name?”

“Herbert Fisher, a professional photographer by trade.”

Stone nearly choked. “Oh, no, no, no, no,” he said, holding out his hands as if to ward off evil.

“You know Mr. Fisher?” Lance asked, looking surprised.

“I know him far better than I want to,” Stone said.

“Well, come to think of it, he did ask for you. I’m glad you’ve agreed.”

“Wait a minute, Lance. I’m not doing this. The guy is trouble from beginning to end—he won’t take legal advice, won’t do anything he’s told.”

“Stone, Stone, it’s a simple matter, really. We just want you to negotiate something for him—get him off, if possible, sure, but we can’t let it go to trial.”

“Lance, sometimes these things go to trial, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Stone, we can do something about it, if necessary, but we’d rather let you handle it in the normal way.”

“I don’t like the sound of that, Lance.”

Lance held up a placating hand. “Now don’t go reading a subtext into my words.”

“Do you know Herbie Fisher?” Stone asked.

“We’ve met.”

“Well, let me tell you about him. Last year, I hired him—on the recommendation of a guy who does a lot of good work for me—to take some photographs. A domestic matter. Herbie fell through the skylight while taking the pictures, got himself arrested, then, when I got him out, jumped bail and ran for the Virgin Islands. I had to go down there and get him back to make his court appearance and get my bail money back.”

“Well, he does sound lively, doesn’t he? He did come well recommended.”

“Lance, you don’t want anything to do with this guy, and neither do I.”

“Fine with me, Stone. See him through this, and we’ll both kiss him off.”

“You’re not listening, Lance. I won’t represent him.”

“But you’ve already agreed, old sport, and you’re a man of your word.”

“But I didn’t know who we were talking about.”

“Then you should have asked before we shook hands on it, not afterward.”

“Lance . . .”

“Tell you what: We’ll make it seven-fifty an hour, in cash, and I’ll send you over a retainer of twenty-five thousand. You can bank the unused portion, or stuff it into your mattress.”

That stopped Stone in his tracks just long enough for Lance to place a card on his desk, get up, and walk out of his office.

“Thanks, Stone,” Lance called over his shoulder. “Herbert will be in touch. Let’s have dinner.” He closed the door behind him.

“Oh, God,” Stone moaned.

7

STONE WAS DRESSING when Holly and Daisy returned from their walk.

“Hi there,” she said.

Stone looked at his watch. “That was a long walk.”

“We went all the way to the north end of the park and back; really had a workout.”

“You’d better grab a shower, then. Dino called and said he has some information for you. We’re meeting him at Elaine’s in an hour.”

“I’ll feed Daisy and change my socks,” Holly said, and headed upstairs.

They settled into their table, and Elaine came over and sat down. “What’s up?”

“This is my friend Holly Barker, who’s visiting from Florida,” Stone said.

The two women shook hands.

“Are you the lady cop?” Elaine asked.

“That’s right. How did you know?”

“I read the papers. Not that Stone would have ever mentioned you.”

“There wasn’t a lot to mention,” Stone said. “We met only once, before this week.”

“Once has always been enough for you,” Elaine said, rising to hop to the next table.

“What was
that
supposed to mean?” Holly asked.

“Pay no attention to Elaine,” Stone replied. “She likes to needle me.”

“About women?”

“About whatever she can think of.”

Dino came in, hung up his coat, sat down, and ordered a Scotch.

“What would you like, Holly?”

“A three-to-one vodka gimlet, straight up, shaken, very cold,” she said to the waiter.

“Make it two,” Stone said.

“Sounds good. Cancel my Scotch and make it three,” Dino echoed.

“I’m glad to be able to influence opinion,” Holly said. “What information do you have for me, Dino?”

“You’re right. Your guy, Rodriguez, is in town. He’s been hanging out at the La Boheme coffeehouse in Little Italy.”

“Holly’s a little ahead of you, Dino. We had lunch down there, and she spotted Trini and gave chase.”

“No shit? What do you need me for?”

“Well,” Holly said, “I didn’t know about the La Boheme coffeehouse.”

“It’s a mob joint. There’s at least two bookies and a loan shark working out of there.”

“Maybe tomorrow I’ll stop in for a cup of coffee.”

“Not without a SWAT team to back you up,” Dino said. “They don’t cotton to the company of women in that place.”

“Maybe it’s time I brought them up to date.”

“Not unless you enjoy the sound of your bones breaking. They’re not friendly to outsiders of any kind, but especially women.”

“I’m sure there’s a New York City ordinance that prohibits such behavior. Why don’t you come down there with me and enforce it?”

“Because no law enforcement agency, local or federal, wants to disturb the action in the joint. Just between you and me, there’s probably more audio and video equipment installed in the walls there than at the Wiz.”

“What’s the Wiz?”

“A great big audio and video store.”

“I get the picture. Maybe I should just go down there and park outside until Trini shows up, then take him.”

“Holly, you’re not listening. You try to take somebody in that coffee shop, and a shooting war will break out. I wasn’t kidding about the SWAT team.”

“Can you arrange a SWAT team for me, Dino?”

“You got an extradition warrant?”

“It’s in my handbag, right next to Stone’s Walther.”

“Tell you what: If you can get the governor of Florida to call the governor of New York, and the governor to call the mayor of the city, and the mayor to call the police commissioner, and the commissioner to call the chief of detectives, and the chief to call me and order me to do it, then I’ll do it.”

“Dino, you sound reluctant.”

“What gave you that idea? Was it something I said?”

Stone spoke up. “Holly, the best you’re going to get out of the NYPD, except in the circumstances Dino described, is for them to look the other way until you’re on an airplane south with Trini trussed up like a turkey.”

“Dino, did you hear anything about what name Trini is using in the Witness Protection Program?”

“He’s using Trini at the La Boheme. Outside, who knows?”

“I’ve got an idea,” Holly said, digging her cell phone out of her purse.

“That’s it,” Dino said. “Call the director of the FBI. I’m sure he’ll be helpful.”

Holly dialed two zeros, then another digit. “Hello, may I please have the number, under the United States Government, Department of Justice, for the Federal Bureau of Investigation field office in American Samoa? S-A-M-O-A. It’s a bunch of tiny islands in the South Pacific. I’ll hold.” She turned to Stone. “Got a pen?”

Stone handed her his.

“Yes, that’s right.” She grabbed a cocktail napkin and jotted down a long number. “And everything but the last seven digits is the dialing code? Thank you very much.” She punched off.

“What time is it in Samoa?” Dino asked.

“I don’t even know what day it is,” Holly said, dialing the long number. “It’s ringing. Hello, may I speak with Harry Crisp, please? Tell him it’s Holly Barker calling.” She nodded at Stone and waited.

“Hello, Harry? Can you hear me okay?. . . Why, Harry, that’s not a very nice thing to say. And I was trying to be helpful. . . . How? Well, I’ve been feeling badly about your getting transferred to the Pacific Rim, and I thought I might be helpful in getting you back to the States. . . . Well, I don’t know for sure if I can do that, but I can certainly put in a word with Deputy Director Barron, the guy who shipped you out there. . . . Well, of course there’s a tit for tat, Harry. Did you think you’d get my help for free? Actually, it’s a very easy one for you. All I want is the name the Bureau gave Trini Rodriguez in the Witness Protection Program. . . . Yes, Harry, I’m aware that that’s highly confidential,” Holly continued, “but when you weigh a slight breach of confidentiality against a ticket home, well . . . Look, Harry, you’re the guy who put him into the Program. You don’t even have to tap a few computer keys; the name is right there, lodged in your frontal lobe. They haven’t lobotomized you, have they, Harry? . . . Now, how could this possibly get you in trouble? Nobody will know except me. I just want to look up Trini and say hello. He’s of no further use to you, not that he ever was. You were just trying to keep me from arresting and trying him in my jurisdiction.

“Come on, Harry, cough it up. Look, I can’t specify a new assignment for you, but honestly, wouldn’t anywhere be better? . . . I didn’t even know you had an office in Alaska. Would you like me to request Nome for you? Only joking, Harry. Now give me the name and you won’t hear from me again. And if you
don’t
give me the name, you might never hear from
anybody
again.” Holly listened and jotted something on her napkin. “Thank you so much, Harry. I’ll give Deputy Director Barron a call tomorrow, first thing. No, it’s dinnertime here, Harry. Bye-bye.”

She hung up and held up the napkin for Stone and Dino to see.

“Robert Marshall,” Stone read aloud.

Dino took Holly’s hand. “Holly, would you like to come work for the NYPD as liaison with the Feds?”

8

HOLLY GOT UP and went to the ladies’ room, leaving Stone and Dino alone.

“So, how’s it going?” Dino asked.

“Well, I stepped in a steaming pile of shit today.”

“What else is new? What is it this time?”

“Remember Lance Cabot?”

“The rogue ex-CIA guy in London?”

“Yes, but it turns out he’s not a rogue, just CIA. The rogue was Hedger, the guy who hired me. Lance is in New York and he turned up at my office today and asked me to represent a guy who’s been doing some contract work for them. Apparently, he’s had a DUI and a couple of other things, and the Agency wants his mess cleaned up. I didn’t want to do it, but he offered me seven-fifty an hour, and he sent around a brown envelope stuffed with twenty-five thousand in crisp, new hundred-dollar bills.”

“That doesn’t sound so shitty. What’s the problem?”

“The guy I’m representing is Herbie Fisher.”

“That schmuck that we had to hunt down in the Virgin Islands?”

“One and the same.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind? There isn’t enough money to make dealing with that guy worth it.”

“Well, yes, but I agreed to represent him before he told me the name. We shook hands on it.”

“Well, unshake his fucking hand.”

“I gave him my word.”

“Stone, Lance Cabot and the people he works for would screw you in the blink of an eye, if it was worth their while, and maybe just for the fun of it.”

“Actually, my dealings with Lance have been, if not exactly straightforward, then conducted in an honorable manner.”

“Stone, this is the guy who hustled you into putting up a quarter of a million dollars to finance a theft from the British government, then disappeared into thin air.”

“I got my money back, remember?”

“Yeah, but he promised you a million-dollar profit, too. Whatever happened to that?”

“It’s in my brokerage account, less taxes.”

Dino stared at him, stupefied.

“No kidding.”

“You never told me that.”

“Where is it written that I have to tell you everything?”

“Where is it written that I can’t put a gun to your head and pull the trigger? You’d fucking well
better
tell me everything. I was involved, remember?”

“As I recall, your involvement was pretty much confined to lying around the Connaught Hotel, watching cricket matches on TV and gaining weight on room service.”

“Not all that much weight,” Dino said defensively.

“Have you lost it?”

“Most of it.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Well, it was a pretty good hotel, and your friend Hedger was paying.”

“By the way, Hedger is dead. He was knifed near the Connaught by an ex-cop that I had hired to follow Lance.”

“You had him snuffed?”

“Of course not; it was nothing to do with me. Well, not much to do with me.”

Dino shook his head. “Wherever you go, people drop dead, and women take off their underwear. I don’t know how you do either of those things.”

Holly returned to the table. “So, have you been talking about me in my absence?”

“No,” Dino and Stone said as one man.

“Well, that’s insulting. I thought you might have said something nice about my ass as I walked away.”

“It’s a very nice ass,” Dino said. “I mentioned that to Stone.”

“You did not.”

Stone turned to Holly. “He did not. I noticed, though. I just didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, sure,” Holly replied. “What’s for dinner?”

“I’m having a spinach salad, chopped, and the spaghetti alla carbonara,” Stone said.

“Me, too.”

“All right,” Dino said, “I’ll join you. Why confuse the waiter by ordering something different?”

Frank appeared, and they ordered.

“I’m confused,” Frank said. “You all had the same drinks, and now you’re having the same dinner?”

“What’s confusing about that?” Dino asked.

Frank shook his head and walked away.

Stone’s cell phone vibrated, and he dug it out and flipped it open. “Hello?”

“Stone?”

“Yes, who’s this?”

“It’s Herbie Fisher! How are you?”

Stone groaned. “I’m in the middle of dinner, Herbie. Call me in the morning.”

“Isn’t this great? You’re representing me again!”

“No, it’s not great, Herbie, and my food is getting cold. Call me in the morning.”

“Do I take two aspirin?”

“What?”

“You know, take two aspirin and call me in the morning. Isn’t that what lawyers say?”

“That’s what doctors say, Herbie.”

“Whatever. So you’re going to make these charges go away?”

“I’m going to do the best I can for you, Herbie.”

“Lance said you were going to make them go away.”

“What did you do? What are the charges?”

“Wait a minute. I’ve got the ticket here somewhere.” There was the sound of papers rustling.

“That your new client?” Dino asked, smirking.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Why do I have to shut up?” Herbie asked.

“Not you, Herbie. Did you find the ticket?”

“Well, yeah, but you wanted me to shut up.”

“Herbie, I was talking to somebody else. I’m in a restaurant, having dinner with friends. Or, at least, I was, until you called.”

“Yeah, I got the ticket right here.”

“What does it say the charges are?”

“Let’s see: DUI, driving with a suspended license, and—you’re not going to believe this, Stone—resisting arrest with violence.”

“And why wouldn’t I believe that, Herbie?”

“You know me, Stone. I’m not a violent person.”

“What did you do to the cop, Herbie?”

“It’s kind of hazy. I’d had a couple beers.”

“Did the cop Breathalyze you?”

“Yeah.”

“What was the reading?”

“Two-point-oh.”

“Jesus, Herbie, that’s more than double the legal limit! Could you even walk?”

“Not good. Like I said, it’s all pretty hazy.”

“Why was your license suspended, Herbie?”

“Oh, I guess that was that other DUI.”

“You had a
previous
DUI? When?”

“I don’t know, two, three weeks ago.”

“So you’ve had two DUIs in less than a month?”

“I guess.”

“What did the judge give you for the first one?”

“Community service and DUI school.”

“Have you performed any community service?”

“Not yet. I been pretty busy.”

“Did you attend DUI school?”

“Not all of it.”

“How many times did you go?”

“Uh, once.”

“It’s three classes, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“And you went to just one?”

“Stone, you have no idea how boring those classes are.”

“Herbie, you have no idea how boring it is in a cell on Rikers Island.”

“Well, you’re not going to let that happen, are you? Lance said you’d make it all go away.”

“Herbie, back to the resisting arrest with violence: What did you do to the cop?”

“Well, we argued a little.”

“That’s not violence. What did you do to him?”

“It’s all pretty hazy. I might have kicked him.”

“Oh, Jesus. Kicked him where?”

“Maybe in the balls.”

Stone made a whimpering noise. “I have to finish dinner, Herbie. Call me in the morning.”

“I have to be in court in the morning.”

“You mean there’s another charge?”

“No, it’s the same one.”

“And your court appearance is
tomorrow morning
?”

“Yeah.”

“At what time?”

“Ten o’clock.”

“That’s just great, Herbie. I’ll meet you in the hallway outside the courtrooms at nine-thirty, and you’d better be there, sober and neatly dressed.”

“All right, I’ll be there,” Herbie said, sounding chastened.

Stone hung up.

“Where did Herbie kick the cop?” Dino asked.

“In the balls.”

Dino and Holly collapsed in laughter.