Barely Legal

by Stuart Woods

  “What’s up?” Stone said.

  “He probably wants to congratulate me on my handling of the case.”

  “You want me to wait? Grab some dinner?”

  Herbie shook his head. “I’m beat. I’m going straight home. I’ll probably order takeout.”

  Stone was glad to hear it. If Herbie stayed home, he’d be safe, and the man Dino had tailing him would have an easy time of it.

  “Listen. I got a call from Dino. It turns out the surveillance cameras in the back stairwell of your building were out on the night of the murder. Anyone could have gotten in or out unseen from the garage. So it wasn’t necessarily the boyfriend. It might have been Taperelli’s men after all.”

  Herbie’s jaw was set. “Is that right?”

  “There’s video from a street camera of two thugs sneaking into the garage.”

  Herbie took a deep breath and blew it out again.

  “I don’t mean to upset you, but I thought you should know.”

  “Dino’s been keeping this from me?”

  “Don’t blame Dino. He just found out. Look, Herbie, don’t get any ideas about Taperelli. These guys play in a different league.”

  “You were going to tell me this over dinner?”

  Stone smiled. “It seems like we always give you bad news over dinner, doesn’t it?”

  “Thanks, Stone. Well, I mustn’t keep the judge waiting.”

  Herbie found Judge Buckingham in chambers. He was leaning back in his desk chair with his hands folded in his lap. His fingers were intertwined, and he was tapping his two thumbs together.

  “Yes, Your Honor?”

  The judge cocked his head. “I noticed a distinct change in your strategy this afternoon.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

  Herbie felt like a student who’d been summoned to the principal’s office. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I find your asking the question somewhat irregular.”

  “Oh, do you now? We are off the record, Mr. Fisher. You may speak candidly.”

  “I have no idea why I am here.”

  “Then you’re being disingenuous. Your behavior in court this afternoon was exemplary. You were the very model of speed and efficiency. You asked only pertinent questions, and few of those. None were objectionable on any grounds whatsoever. You were polite, courteous, and cooperative.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.”

  “This is in sharp contrast to your performance during the rest of the trial. A complete one-eighty. It occurs to me a desperate attorney might point to our conversation before court and claim it had intimidated him into curtailing his cross-examination.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m not desperate, Your Honor, or I would think you were talking about me.”

  Judge Buckingham raised his finger. “See, now that sounds more like the smart aleck I’ve grown used to.”

  Herbie sighed. Some days you just couldn’t win. “Your Honor, if a lawyer had done what you’ve just implied I’ve done, I would think it would be a matter for the Bar Association.”

  Judge Buckingham’s eyes narrowed. “To consider a charge of intimidation?”

  “Certainly not. To consider the lawyer’s attempt to pervert justice. It’s a good thing neither of us is contemplating such an action.”

  Judge Buckingham looked buffaloed. He clearly wanted to say something, but Herbie’s attitude had left him speechless.

  “Well, if there’s nothing else, Your Honor, I have to prepare for the case. The defense is up tomorrow.”

  Herbie bowed and nodded his way out the door, leaving the judge utterly frustrated.

  91

  HERBIE SPOTTED DINO’S MAN as he was getting onto the subway. He’d tried to get a taxi, but it was rush hour, so there were no cabs to be had, so he’d walked down to City Hall to catch the Lexington Avenue express.

  Herbie spotted him getting onto the car. At first he thought he was one of Taperelli’s men. Or, rather, one of Detective Kelly’s men. Herbie could tell from the man’s unmistakable bearing that he was a cop—he just didn’t know if he was a good cop or a bad cop. He was an undercover cop, perhaps out of Kelly’s stable.

  The guy wasn’t a bad tail. Herbie only spotted him because he couldn’t get on the car until Herbie did, and in the rush-hour crunch, there was no room and the conductor was trying to close the door on him. The loudspeaker was squawking, “There’s a train right behind us! Let the doors go!” in a distorted, tinny voice. Then he noticed a man trying to get onto the car at all costs, and it dawned on him he was a cop.

  The cop followed Herbie all the way back to his apartment. Herbie noticed him a few times, but only because he’d already spotted him in the subway car. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have had a clue.

  Herbie went into the bar, poured himself a shot of Knob Creek, tossed it off, and collapsed on the couch in a heap.

  All right, what the hell did he do now?

  The cop was a problem. Taking on Taperelli’s men alone wouldn’t be easy, and the cop added an unnecessary complication. If the cop followed him to the hideout in Queens, he’d come crashing in as soon as he realized what was going on. But he’d be too little too late. Herbie’d probably be dead by the time he reached the door.

  Herbie’s cell phone rang. He pulled it out, checked caller ID.

  He groaned. It was Mario Payday.

  He’d forgotten all about Mario Payday. The guy wanted ninety thousand bucks or he’d kill him. Well, he’d just have to wait in line. Herbie sent the call to voice mail. He wondered if Mario would leave a message or if such tactics were beneath him.

  Herbie considered calling Joshua Hook at Strategic Defenses. He should have taken him up on his offer to help. Was it too late now? Josh could be here in, what, an hour and forty-five minutes? But what would he be? Just another person to pique the interest of the police escort. If Dino heard Josh was here, he’d throw every cop in the area in the mix.

  Herbie’s phone beeped.

  Mario Payday had finished leaving his voice mail message. Herbie clicked it on and played it back.

  “Mr. Fisher, this is Carlo, Mario Payday’s assistant. I’m calling because Mario does not like to make this sort of call himself. Which I quite understand. I’m calling because you have not paid Mario yet. Which I don’t understand. A man such as you should have the wherewithal and the perspicacity—don’t ask me, Mario told me to use the word—to discharge the debt before it becomes an issue. If you do not discharge it this evening, Mr. Fisher, Mario will be forced to cut his losses and make an example out of you, as a lesson to other debtors who might come to think that a financial obligation is something to be taken lightly.

  “Mario will be sad to lose you. He finds you amusing.”

  Herbie slipped the phone back in his pocket.

  92

  DAVID KNEW SOMETHING was wrong. His father had been acting strange all day. For the last two days, actually, ever since he’d come and pulled Herbie away from lunch. David didn’t like it. He was the one on trial. He was the one in danger. And now his own father and lawyer were keeping things from him. It was like he had no one to trust. A hell of a position for a college-age kid, already feeling like he was up against the world.

  David finished his dinner, which he’d eaten alone in the big dining room, thinking he should have gotten a TV tray in his own room, only he’d hoped his father would join him for the meal. He didn’t.

  David went to check on the councilman. The door to his father’s study was closed, which meant he desired privacy.

  David pushed the door open and went in.

  The councilman was slumped in his chair. A bottle of whiskey was open on the desk in front of him. He was a man on the brink of despair.

  “Dad, what’s wrong?”

  Councilman Ross immediately straightened in his chair. “It’s nothing. Just business problems.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “David.”
>
  “Dad, I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s not just me. I’ve been on trial for days. I didn’t do it, but you’re overreacting even if I did. And I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me why.”

  The councilman looked at his son standing in front of him, strong and determined. He sighed and all the resistance oozed out of him.

  “It’s your sister.”

  93

  HERBIE DIDN’T KNOW what to do. The whole world was crashing down on him. The cops were after him. The mobsters were after him. Now a loan shark was after him. And he didn’t have time for any of them, not if he was going to rescue Melanie Porter.

  The thought was amusing. Rescuing the girl. What was he, the hero in some adventure story? No, he was just Herbie Fisher, attorney-at-law, and, sadly enough, the best chance Melanie Porter had.

  He had to get out of his apartment building without being seen. Could it be done? Dino had advanced the theory that Taperelli’s men could have gotten in because they’d cut the cameras for the stairwell. Presumably he could go down those stairs. But what difference would it make? The cop wouldn’t be watching the security cameras. Herbie was a tenant. Nobody gave a damn if he used the elevator.

  The stairwell led to the garage, presumably the method of egress used by Taperelli’s men. Well, the elevator did, too. He could take the elevator down to the garage. He didn’t have a car, but he could just walk out the entrance. The garage man didn’t know him, but he wouldn’t stop him going out.

  Of course, if the cop was worth his salt, he would have made note of the garage entrance and taken up a position on the corner diagonally across from the building from which he could watch the main entrance and the garage entrance at the same time.

  He didn’t dare risk it. He only had one shot, and if he guessed wrong, it could mean Melanie’s life.

  Herbie paced up and down. Think, damn it, think. You don’t have to do this alone. Swallow your pride.

  Herbie smiled slightly.

  He snatched up his cell phone, punched in a number. “Josh? It’s Herbie.”

  Joshua Hook chuckled. “Don’t tell me. You shot somebody, and the cops will be tracking the gun.”

  “This morning you offered to help. Does that offer still stand?”

  “What do you need?”

  “How quick can you get to Manhattan?”

  “Pretty damn quick. I’m there now.”

  “What?”

  “I had some business in town this afternoon. I’m about to have dinner.”

  “Mind postponing it a little?”

  “What do you need?”

  94

  JOSHUA HOOK FROWNED at Herbie skeptically. “You’re being followed by a thug?”

  “Yes.”

  “Over an old gambling debt?”

  “Back before I was a lawyer.”

  “A debt you’ve already paid off?”

  “That’s the crazy thing.”

  “That’s one of the crazy things. This whole thing is crazy.”

  “Maybe so, but the guy is out there.”

  “All right. You say you’ve paid the debt off?”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you considered paying it off again?”

  Herbie frowned. “What?”

  “If this is causing you as much trouble as you claim, wouldn’t your peace of mind be something worth buying?”

  Herbie pretended to consider the idea. “I suppose.”

  Josh studied his face. “What’s the real story?”

  “Huh?”

  “Come on, Herbie. You drive all the way up to my facility, take a lesson, and get a gun. I can’t believe you did that rather than pay someone some money. I mean, we’re not talking a hundred thousand here, are we?”

  “Ninety.”

  Josh shook his head. “Did anyone ever teach you moderation?”

  “Hey.”

  “But even so, you won a fortune in the lottery and you’re a partner in a law firm. Why are you sweating the small stuff?”

  Herbie put up his hands. “All right, all right. It’s not the loan shark. It’s Tommy Taperelli.”

  Josh’s mouth fell open. “You’re mixed up with the mob?”

  “I’m not mixed up with the mob. I got roped into handling a criminal case, a drug bust. The defendant got set up by the guys who busted him, and it looks like Taperelli’s pulling the strings. He wants me to cease and desist.”

  “You think that’s Taperelli’s man on the corner?”

  “Probably.”

  “And you were going to let me walk right into it thinking he works for a loan shark?”

  “I know you can take care of yourself.”

  “Yeah, unless I’m lulled into thinking I’m dealing with an amateur and get coldcocked by a pro.”

  “I’d still bet on you.”

  “Thanks a heap. Assuming you get free of this guy, what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to try to get myself out of trouble.”

  “What sort of trouble are you in?”

  “Well, I’ve been arrested for murder and charged with contempt of court. That’s for starters. I also happen to have some witnesses I’d like to talk to without leading Taperelli to them.”

  Josh sighed. “All right, kid. Let’s go take on the mob.”

  95

  JOSH HAD NO PROBLEM spotting the thug. He was diagonally across Park Avenue from the corner of Herbie’s building, right where he could watch the entrance and the garage at the same time. The guy was clearly a pro. There was no way he was just the enforcer for some two-bit loan shark. He was Taperelli’s man for sure.

  And Herbie hadn’t wanted to tell him. That bothered Josh. Did Herbie think he was getting old? Slow? Losing it? Or did he just think Taperelli’s men were that scary? Herbie had been dealing with them, and clearly they’d scared him, enough to drive all the way upstate to get a gun. Well, no matter. He’d agreed to do it, so he’d do it.

  And Josh was that good. He just needed to be careful, but effective. Come right at the guy. Taunt him. Get him off balance.

  Josh walked up to the thug and said, “Hey, asshole, what do you think you’re doing?”

  The guy ignored him, pretended not to hear.

  “Hey, asshole, I’m talking to you,” Josh said.

  The thug turned then, assessed him calmly. “Run along, buddy.”

  “No, you run along. I like this corner. You’ve had it long enough.”

  “I’m glad to hear that because it was getting boring,” the thug said, and turned away to continue his surveillance.

  “Hey!” Josh said.

  The thug turned back. “What?”

  “You going to leave this corner?”

  The thug stared him down. “No.”

  Josh punched him in the face.

  The blow caught him by surprise. He went down to one knee. He reached for his gun. Josh grabbed his arm, pulled it up behind him until something cracked.

  He howled in pain and lashed out with his left hand. He caught Josh just above the left eye and raised a welt. Josh might not have noticed. He cocked his fist.

  The thug’s arm wasn’t broken. He managed a punch to Josh’s stomach that took some of the joy out of life. Josh grabbed him by the jacket lapels, dropped to the ground, and rolled over backward, flipping him over his head. He turned around and dove on him before he could scramble to his feet.

  A police car with its siren and lights on made a U-turn on Park Avenue and careened to a stop beside them. A second police car took the shorter route against the traffic and screeched to a stop head-to-head with the first. Policemen jumped out of the cars and descended on the combatants. Two grabbed Josh. Two grabbed the thug. They wrestled them toward the cars.

  One of the officers holding the thug said, “Hey, this one’s armed!”

  “I’m a cop, you moron!”

  “Yeah, right,” the officer scoffed. He threw him into the back of the car.

  The other officers had a harder
time dealing with Josh Hook. He managed to keep his feet until he saw Herbie, completely forgotten, come out the front door of his apartment building and walk off down the street.

  96

  DAVID ROSS’S CAB pulled up at the corner of Herbie’s building. There was some sort of fracas going on across the street. Two police cars with lights flashing were blocking one lane, and passersby were gawking.

  As David was paying off the cab Herbie Fisher came out the door of his apartment building and walked quickly down the street in the opposite direction.

  David was tempted to jump out of the car and run after him, but some instinct told him that would be a bad idea. In a flash, David realized what it was. Herbie hadn’t paid any attention to the fight going on across the street. It was only normal to stop and watch, at least to see what was going on. Everyone else was. But Herbie hadn’t done that. It was almost as if Herbie had known what was going on.

  What was Herbie up to?

  As far as David knew, Herbie and his father were the only ones who knew his sister had been kidnapped. Herbie hadn’t told the cops, though he had high-placed friends on the force. And Herbie hadn’t told his father what he was up to. He was playing a lone game, and he wasn’t about to let David in on it. If David stopped him, all it would do would be inhibit the play.

  “Hang on,” David said to the cabbie, “we’re going somewhere else.”

  97

  HERBIE WAS NERVOUS riding along in the cab. He had one shot, and one shot only. He’d gotten out of his apartment building, but that was the least of it. One cop was a lot easier to distract than a bunch of armed thugs, and he’d had help. Well, there was no harm in asking for help. Herbie wasn’t trying to prove anything. If someone else did it for him, that was fine with him.

  Herbie felt bad about tricking Josh. He’d have to make it up to him, assuming he ever got out of this. He’d bail him out, pay his fine, try to make Dino understand that Josh wasn’t in on it at all. Herbie’d completely finessed him, feeding him the story about the loan shark, knowing it wasn’t going to fly, then reluctantly admitting the guy was Taperelli’s. If he’d led with that, Josh would have been suspicious. As it was, he didn’t have a clue. He probably still thought the guy was a hood. Well, whatever the case, Josh had done a great job.