by Stuart Woods
“We are entirely alone,” Stone said, lying back and letting her do the work. He waited until she had come three times and exhausted herself before rolling her off him and sitting up on one elbow. “Now to business,” he whispered in her ear.
“I released the account this afternoon,” she said. “Your client is now three and a half million dollars richer. Oh, and you can thank your friend Mike Freeman, who called the attorney general on your client’s behalf.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that at dinner?” he asked.
“Because if your wish had been granted too early, you might have been less interested in the latter part of the evening,” she said. “And I’m staying the night.”
“I hope you won’t mind if I get some sleep,” Stone said, rolling over and pulling up the covers.
“Not at all,” Tiffany said. “I’ll let you know when you’re needed.”
And she did.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, suffering from soreness, Stone called Herbie Fisher.
“Herbert Fisher’s office,” a female voice said.
“Good morning. It’s Stone Barrington.”
“Mr. Barrington, this is the receptionist. Mr. Fisher and his secretary are in a real estate closing at the moment. I’ll tell him you called.”
“Thank you.” Stone hung up, wondering what real estate sale Herbie was closing.
AN HOUR LATER, Herbie called. “Sorry about not taking your call, Stone.”
“Not at all, Herbie. What were you closing?”
“A new client of mine, High Cotton Ideas, bought an old building in SoHo for its headquarters.”
“Oh, this is Marshall Brennan’s software start-up?”
“One and the same. I’ve already got a construction crew in the building, making it habitable for a shiny new corporation.”
“Then you’re a full-service attorney.”
“You betcha.”
“I have good news, Herbie.”
“By the way, it’s Herb, remember?”
“Of course, negligent of me.”
“What’s the good news?”
“Mike Freeman called his friend, the attorney general, on your behalf and yesterday the U.S. attorney released your ex’s brokerage account. You may now do what you will with the money.”
“That’s great news, Stone. After what I’ve seen and heard downtown, I’m going to put it all into High Cotton Ideas. My client is so happy with my services that he has offered me an investment opportunity.”
“I won’t ask you for details, to avoid having to explain myself to the SEC after the IPO takes place.”
“You give yourself good legal advice, Stone.”
“I do, thank you. And you owe me a very good dinner for what I had to do last night on your behalf.”
“I think I know exactly what that means,” Herbie said, “and I take the position that your lack of virtue was its own reward.”
Stone hung up, laughing.
21
HERBIE OVERSAW the signing of the last of the closing documents, then invited Mark Hayes back to his office for a cup of coffee.
“How does it feel to own commercial real estate?” Herbie asked.
“It feels just great,” Mark said, “and I want to thank you for suggesting that I buy the building personally and lease it back to the company.”
“And I want to thank you for your invitation to invest with you,” Herbie said.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Mark said. He took a notebook from his pocket and did some scribbling, then ripped out the page and handed it to Herbie. “That’s the number of my shares you’ll get for investments of one, two, or three million dollars.”
Herbie took a quick look at the numbers and made a quick decision. “I’ll do the three million. I’ll draw up the documents, move the money today, and have a cashier’s check for you tomorrow.”
Mark nodded. “I’m impressed that someone your age can come up with that kind of cash on short notice.”
Herbie smiled. “I’m impressed that someone your age can start a company that’s worth the investment.”
“I suppose you’re wondering why I’m willing to sell you these shares,” Mark said.
“I expect you can use the cash for the renovation of your new building. That way, you won’t need to mortgage it.”
Mark nodded. “My new architect and builder tell me it’s going to cost a million dollars a floor to make the space habitable, and I’m going to reinforce the roof, so that I can build myself a penthouse up there.”
“What a great idea! I live in a penthouse, and I can tell you, you’re going to love it.”
There was a rap on the door and Bill Eggers stepped in.
“Good morning, Bill,” Herbie said.
“I understand our new client is here,” Eggers said, offering his hand to Mark.
“Mark,” Herbie said, “this is our firm’s managing partner, Bill Eggers.”
“Good to meet you.” Mark rose and took Eggers’s hand.
“I’ve wanted to meet you since Marshall Brennan told me about your start-up,” Eggers said. “Are we meeting all your legal needs?”
“More than meeting them,” Mark said. “Herb has given me a wealth of good advice in a very short time.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” Eggers said.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Mark said, “I have a computer to get back to. I’m unaccustomed to seeing daylight during the workday.”
They said their goodbyes and Mark left. Eggers took a seat, and Herbie handed him a cup of coffee.
“Well, Herbert,” Eggers said, “congratulations on making our new client happy.”
“Thank you, Bill.”
“Now, what have you done for me lately?”
Herbie laughed aloud. “Greedy, aren’t you?”
“You’d better know it.”
“Well, last night Robert Bentley the Third and I had dinner at the Brook with Robert Bentley the Second.”
Eggers’s eyebrows went up. “And?”
“And the elder Mr. Bentley says he’d like to give us some new business soon.”
“How soon?”
“I’m going to leave that up to him, and I’m not going to rush him. He said something interesting, though.”
“What was that?”
“He put this to me hypothetically: how would I handle a major piece of commercial litigation for a client?”
“Tell me what you told him.”
“I told him that we are a large enough firm to have specialists in every area of the law, and that I would assemble a team of our best litigators, then act as the firm’s liaison with the client.”
“Whew!” Eggers said. “I’m relieved to hear it. I’m glad you didn’t tell him you’d handle it yourself.”
“I’m young, Bill, but I’m not crazy.”
“Do you have any idea if he’s referring to a real lawsuit?”
“My guess is, yes. He described it as ‘dangerous.’”
Eggers frowned. “I’m not aware of anything like that looming in Bentley’s future.”
“Perhaps it hasn’t happened yet. Perhaps he’s thinking of suing, not being sued.”
“I’m going to have a word with our litigation department and see what we can find out. If Bentley comes to us with this, I want to be ready.” Eggers got to his feet and wandered out.
Cookie came in with a brown envelope and handed it to Herbie. “This just came by messenger.”
“Thanks, Cookie. You performed brilliantly in putting together that closing.”
“Thank you, kind sir.”
“You’re getting a fifteen percent raise, starting with your next paycheck,” Herbie said. “And it is richly deserved.”
Cookie smiled broadly, revealing small, beautiful teeth. “Thank you again.” She curtsied, then went back to her desk.
Herbie opened the envelope and removed the contents. It was a statement of his ex-wife’s brokerage account, with a letter saying tha
t it had been released to him. He flipped through the pages, looking at the investments, then he called Cookie back in and handed her the statement. “Write a reply to the signatory of this letter, to be hand delivered, thanking him and instructing him to immediately liquidate all the shares, except the Apple stock, and to wire the proceeds to my checking account. Then write another letter to my banker, telling him that upon receipt of the funds he is to issue a cashier’s check for three million dollars, payable to Mark Hayes, and have it hand delivered to me.”
“It will be done,” she said.
“And when those are done, I’ll dictate a document transferring some of High Cotton Ideas stock to me, for Mark Hayes’s signature.”
“I shall return,” she said.
Herbie sat back and reflected that things were going very well indeed for him, and that it had been his experience that whenever things were going very well for him he always found a way to screw it up. When he had won sixteen million dollars, net, in the lottery, he managed to blow six million of it in three months, and all he had to show for it was an apartment, a car, and some clothes. He resolved that henceforth he would devote himself to making his fortune grow, instead of blowing it. Now that he had money in Marshall Brennan’s hedge fund and an investment in High Cotton Ideas, he was off to a good start.
22
STONE MET DINO for dinner at P.J. Clarke’s.
“Are we ever going to have dinner anywhere else?” Dino asked.
“I’m game,” Stone said. “Suggest somewhere.”
“I mean, I’ve always liked Clarke’s, but none of the regulars from Elaine’s are ever here.”
“That’s because, like us, they don’t know what else to do with themselves.”
“I miss them,” Dino said.
“Why? You didn’t spend a lot of time with them.”
“Yeah, but I miss them anyway.”
“Dino, I’ve got news for you: Elaine is dead, and Elaine’s is closed for good. Get used to it.”
“I’m trying.”
“Are you seeing the dancer, Rita?”
“Oh, yeah, but the hours may be more than I can deal with. Right now, she’s available in the evenings, because she rehearses in the daytime, then, after tomorrow night, she’ll only be available in the daytime, when I’m working, because she’s performing at night. You going to the opening?”
“I think we’re sitting together.”
“Okay, and there’s the party at Sardi’s afterward. It may be the last time I see Rita.”
“Cheer up, maybe the show will close after the first performance.”
“I wouldn’t wish that on her. How much have you seen of Marla?”
“Only the once. Fortunately, unlike Rita, she’ll be available in the evenings once the show has opened.”
“Good for you. If I can’t see Rita, then I’m going to start thinking about Shelley again.”
“Have you heard from her since you booted her out of your bed?”
“I had a postcard with a picture of the Port Authority bus terminal on it. No signature.”
“What did she have to say?”
“‘See you around.’”
“That sounds ominous.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I hope you burned the postcard. You don’t want that lying around the house.”
“I’ve been a cop all these years, and you think I don’t know how to destroy incriminating evidence?”
Stone laughed. “I was getting worried about you.”
“I was getting worried about me, too. You know, there’s this female detective in my squad named Vivian DeCarlo, nice Ital-ian girl.”
“Dino, the next worse thing to fucking Shelley Bach is fucking somebody in your squad.”
“Unless we can get away with it,” Dino replied.
“Oh, shit,” Stone said. “You’re determined to destroy your career, one way or the other.”
“So what if I do? I’ve got the money from my divorce settlement, and a pension waiting for me.”
“Retirement would be an unnatural act for you. What would you do with yourself?”
“I don’t know. What do other retirees do?”
“Play shuffleboard and wait to die.”
“I could travel.”
“You hate travel, unless I’m there to fly you.”
“I could buy a place in Italy and go live there.”
“You’re a New Yorker, not an Italian.”
“With a name like Bacchetti, I’m not Italian?”
“You live and breathe New York. What would you do in Italy? You speak about as much Italian as I do.”
“I used to speak Italian, with my grandmother, when I was a kid. It would come back to me.”
“You’d end up sitting in some bar in Rome, trying to pick up American tourists, so you could talk to somebody.”
“That’s pretty much what I do here, except they’re not tourists.”
“What you do here is be a cop. I hope you’re not stupid enough to give that up before they boot you out.”
Dino sighed. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to quit.”
“If you start seeing this DeCarlo girl, you’ll end up getting one or both of you transferred, probably to the Bronx or the outer reaches of Brooklyn.”
Stone looked toward the door and saw Herbie Fisher standing there.
“There’s Herbie,” Dino said. “At last, a familiar face.”
Stone waved him over. “He wants to be called Herb now—he’s growing up.”
Herbie sat down and ordered a drink. “What a day!” he said. “What a week!”
“Is that good?” Dino asked.
“You bet your ass it is,” Herbie said. “I got promoted to senior associate and pulled in two pieces of new business, maybe three.”
“What’s the third?” Stone asked.
Herbie told them about his dinner with Robert Bentley II.
“Sounds promising,” Stone said.
“Eggers is champing at the bit for me to get that.”
“I’m sure he is.”
“But I’m not going to rush it. I’m going to let him come to me.”
“That’s wise, if he comes.”
“He’ll come—his son is my associate.”
“How’d you swing that?” Dino asked.
“I didn’t swing it. The kid is the newest associate, and I’m the newest senior associate.”
“A marriage made in heaven,” Dino said.
“Don’t laugh, it could turn out that way. If we handle a major litigation for Bentley, it could bring millions into the firm.”
“Eggers would like that,” Stone said.
“I’m redoing my apartment,” Herbie said, apropos of nothing.
“Okay,” Stone replied.
“My secretary is doing it. Turns out she has a real gift. You should come and see my office—even Eggers liked it. He picked up the tab for it, too.”
“My word,” Stone said, “you did have a good week, didn’t you?”
“I’m going to make more rain,” Herbie said. “My goal is to bring in more business than a senior associate ever has.”
“The boy has ambition,” Dino said. “Who knew? Herbie—”
“Herb, please.”
“Ah, Herb, how’d you go from being a gold-plated fuckup to being a senior associate at Woodman and Weld?”
“Hard work and good luck,” Herbie said. “And good friends.”
“That’s an unbeatable combination,” Stone said, clapping him on the back.
Stone looked toward the door and saw Mike Freeman standing there. “Over here!” he yelled.
Mike came over and sat down. “You know, I went to Elaine’s automatically, looking for you.”
“I have to stop myself from doing the same thing,” Stone said.
“Stone, you up for a trip to L.A.?”
“What’s up in L.A.?”
“I think it’s time we had a look at our hotel’s progress.”
> “Well, the hotel is a Woodman and Weld client, so I guess I can justify the trip.”
“We’ll take the Strategic Services G-550,” Mike said.
“That will take the sting out of air travel.”
“Can I come?” Herbie asked.
Stone shook his head. “No junkets for you. You have new business to take care of.”
“How about me?” Dino asked. “I can take the time.”
“You’re welcome, Dino,” Mike said. He looked around. “Do they serve food here?”
23
THE BIG GULFSTREAM lined up for takeoff on Runway 1 at Teterboro, and the pilot pushed the throttles forward.
“What happened to the beautiful pilot Suzanne Alley?” Stone asked. “We had dinner in London once.”
“She got a better offer,” Mike replied.
The pilot rotated and the jet rose and climbed quickly.
“I’ll be interested to see if we get cleared all the way to cruising altitude,” Stone said.
“Not until we get away from Newark Liberty,” Mike said, “but that won’t take long.”
The airplane leveled off at Flight Level 440. The stewardess unbuckled her seat belt and came aft with a tray of breakfast pastries and a pot of coffee.
Dino accepted a pastry and a cup of coffee. “This is better than flying in your airplane,” he said to Stone.
“We have pastries and coffee on my airplane,” Stone replied. “If you bring them.”
“I believe my point is made,” Dino said. “I’d also have to bring my own stewardess.”
LATER THAT DAY they set down at Burbank and got into a waiting rented Mercedes. Mike drove.
“I’ve booked us into the Bel-Air,” he said. “Might as well check out our competition.”
“I hope they don’t know who we are,” Stone said. “We might get mugged.”
“They’ll know,” Mike said. “They knew well before we broke ground. Shall we visit the site now?”
“Sure,” Stone said.
Mike drove them to Bel-Air and up to Vance Calder’s old property. Cars and pickup trucks were lined up along the road for a quarter of a mile. “I guess they don’t have any parking areas finished yet,” he said. They turned into the driveway and stopped to identify themselves to the security guard, then they continued up the winding driveway. “There’ll be cottages on both sides of the road all the way up,” Mike said.
