by Stuart Woods
He was at Elaine’s the usual five minutes ahead of Dino, who joined him and accepted a Scotch from the waiter.
“How are the various affected parts of your body?”
“Responding well to drugs.” He looked at his watch. “Another half hour before I can take another pill.” He took a big swig of his bourbon. “This should help.”
“It usually does,” Dino agreed, sipping his own drink.
“Oh, a lady is joining us.”
“You found me a girl? Oh, Stone, that’s swell of you.”
“I found me a girl.”
“What about the lovely Celia?”
“She’s in lovely Washington, Connecticut, remember?”
“So who’s this one?”
Stone nodded toward the door. “You’ve met.” He struggled to his feet to greet Eliza Larkin. “Good evening.”
She shook his hand.
“You remember Lieutenant Bacchetti.”
“Of course.” She shook his hand and accepted a chair.
“I’m known as Dino, off duty,” Dino said.
“And I’m known as Eliza, off duty.”
“What would you like to drink?” Stone asked.
“I think a very dry martini with two olives,” she replied.
Stone waved at a waiter and ordered.
“So this is Elaine’s?” Eliza said.
“It is indeed. Unpretentious, isn’t it?”
“Cozy. I like it.”
“The food is a lot better than it gets credit for. Restaurant critics don’t like it because they can’t get a good table, not being regulars.”
Eliza noticed the cane hanging on the spare chair. “Are you using that?”
“Yes, the painkiller is wearing off, but I have another twenty-five minutes before I can take another pill.”
The martini was placed before her, and she sipped. “You can’t take another pill.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re drinking,” she said, pointing at the nearly empty glass of bourbon. “Those pills don’t mix with alcohol. You might run amok.”
“I never run amok.”
“Have you ever taken those pills with alcohol?”
“No.”
“If you do, it will be your first experience with running amok, and Lieutenant Bacchetti will have to arrest you.”
“But I’ll be in pain.”
“My prescription is, have another of whatever you’re drinking, and I predict you’ll feel very little pain.”
“And that woman is a doctor,” he said to Dino. He waved at a waiter for a refill, then he glanced toward the front of the restaurant and saw Elaine walk in, right on time. But he was distracted by a face in the front window.
“Excuse me a moment,” Stone said, grabbing his cane and hobbling toward the door. He let two other people enter, then went outside. A couple of smokers were standing on the sidewalk, to his left, shivering and nursing their drug addiction; Stone turned to his right and saw Devlin Daltry standing there, smiling insolently at him.
32
Daltry turned to face him, stepping away from the window. “Oh, I see you’re using a cane these days,” he said, still smiling. “When I finish with you, you’ll be in a wheelchair.”
Stone glanced to his right, through the restaurant window and into the bar. A man was standing there, staring at them, a camera in his hands.
Stone flashed his badge. “You’re under arrest for making terroristic threats,” he said. “Don’t move.” He flipped open his cell phone and punched the speed-dial number for Dino.
“Bacchetti.”
“I’ve just arrested Devlin Daltry for making terroristic threats. Come out here and take him off my hands, will you?”
“Sure thing.”
Stone snapped the cell phone shut. “You thought I would hit you and your buddy in there would get a picture, right?”
Daltry looked around him.
“If you run, you’ll add fleeing arrest to the charges.”
Dino came out the door, and, simultaneously, a squad car screeched to a halt in front of the restaurant, its lights flashing, and two cops got out of the car.
“Careful,” Stone said, “there’s a guy in the bar with a camera.”
“Lieutenant,” one of the cops said. “What do you need?”
“Make sure that guy doesn’t go anywhere for a minute,” Dino said. He turned and walked back into the restaurant and Stone could see him at the bar, flashing his badge at the photographer. Then Dino took the camera from him and came back outside. “Okay,” he said to Daltry, “you’re under arrest for…” He looked at Stone questioningly.
“Making terroristic threats,” Stone said. “He said when he got through with me, I’d be in a wheelchair.”
“For making terroristic threats,” Dino said to Daltry. “Cuff him,” he said to the car, “and take him back to the station house and book him.”
“You haven’t got any witnesses,” Daltry said.
“I have the testimony of a retired police hero,” Dino replied. He turned to the cops. “You got a complaint form in the car?” The cop went to the squad car and returned with a sheet of paper. “Make sure this guy doesn’t stub his toe. Come on, Stone.” He turned and led the way back into the restaurant. Once inside he tossed the camera to the photographer. “Let’s see some I.D.,” he said.
The man produced a wallet.
“Who do you work for?”
“I’m freelance, but this job is for The Sheet,” he said, naming a gossip rag.
“I ought to arrest you for entrapment,” Dino said.
“Hey, wait a minute, I haven’t entrapped anybody. Daltry just asked me to stand inside and take pictures; I didn’t know what was going to happen.”
“If you’ll testify to that, I’ll let you go,” Dino said.
“Sure, I’ll testify.” He handed Dino a card.
“Beat it,” Dino said. “I’ll be in touch.”
The man beat it, and Dino and Stone returned to their table and Eliza Larkin. “Retired police hero?” Stone asked Dino.
“Well, I stretched that a little bit.”
“What was that all about?” Eliza asked.
“That was about the man who drove the car that hit me trying to lure me into taking a swing at him, so he could have me photographed doing it. It didn’t work.”
“Are all your evenings like this?” Eliza asked.
“No, thank God. Usually I have a drink, eat some dinner and go home. We arranged this evening’s entertainment just for you.”
Dino handed Stone the complaint form. “I expect you remember how to fill out this thing.”
Stone whipped out a pen and began writing. “Doing your work for you,” he said, writing rapidly, then signing the document. He handed it back to Dino.
“I’ll drop by the precinct on the way home and file this,” he said, folding it and tucking it into a pocket.
“I’ll have to arrange some ER entertainment for you fellows some evening soon,” Eliza said.
“You don’t want to do that,” Dino said. “Stone can’t stand the sight of blood.”
“I can so, as long as it’s not mine,” Stone retorted, “but I’d just as soon not watch people suffer, unless you can get Devlin Daltry admitted for grievous wounds. That I’d like to watch.”
“Devlin Daltry, the sculptor?” she asked.
“One and the same.”
“He was the one you just had arrested?”
“For making terroristic threats,” Dino said. “He threatened to put Stone in a wheelchair.”
“I know a woman who went out with him a couple of times,” Eliza said.
“With what result?”
“She broke it off, and he stalked her for weeks. Her name is Genevieve James; she works at the hospital.”
“How long ago was this?” Stone asked.
“Late last year, between Thanksgiving and Christmas. She had to leave town for the holidays in order to have any peace.
”
“I’d like to talk to her,” Dino said. “Do you think she’d testify to all this in court?”
“I doubt it,” Eliza said. “She was pretty shaken up by the whole business. But I’ll ask her.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Stone said. “I’m representing another woman who’s had major problems with Daltry. She fears for her life, and I had to get her out of town.”
“Well, I hope you can put the creep away,” Eliza said, returning to her drink.
Stone returned to his second bourbon.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“A whole lot better,” Stone said, raising his glass. “Ah, the wonders of medical science.”
“So you’re a lawyer?” she asked.
“That’s debatable,” Dino said. “‘Disreputable lawyer’ would be more like it.”
“That’s a dirty Communist lie,” Stone said. “I mean, you’ve got to have a disreputable client or two to make a living. After all, they’re the ones who need lawyers.”
“Are you telling me you can’t make a living representing reputable people?” Eliza asked.
“Well, reputable people occasionally sue or get sued, or get divorced, but that’s not likely to lead to a protracted trial, the kind that runs up billable hours.”
“When was the last time you had a protracted trial?” Dino asked.
“That’s beside the point,” Stone replied. “I’m simply replying to your baseless charge of disrepute by using an illustration.”
“It says Woodman and Weld on your card,” Eliza pointed out. “That’s a very reputable firm.”
“Yeah,” Dino said, “and they stay that way by handing off the disreputable clients to Stone.”
“It’s a mutually convenient solution to both our problems,” Stone said. “For instance, at the insistence of Woodman and Weld, I’m currently suing a big-time mafioso on behalf of a client they would never represent.”
“Which big-time mafioso?” she asked.
“One Carmine Dattila.”
“Dattila the Hun?” she asked, wide-eyed.
“You clearly need to be reading a better newspaper,” Stone said. “Try the Times.”
“Oh, I read the Times,” she said, “but not for fun. I like the Post and the News for that.”
“You sound like my secretary,” Stone said.
Later, when they had finished dinner, they left the restaurant.
“Can I offer you a nightcap at my house?” Stone said.
“No, you can put me in a cab and send me home.”
“Where do you live?”
“Not far, but you’re in no condition to walk.”
“I didn’t have all that much to drink.”
She pointed at the cane.
“Oh, that. The pain has temporarily subsided.”
“Not enough for you to walk me home. I’ll accept the drink offer when I’m not looking at an early shift on the morrow.”
Stone stepped into the street and flagged down a cab, then opened the door for her.
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for dinner. I liked Elaine’s.”
“Another time soon?”
“I’m around this weekend.”
“Alas, I’m out of town. Early next week?”
“Call me.” She got into the cab, and it drove away.
Stone sighed and started looking for his own cab.
33
Stone opened the door and got into the cab, and as he did, someone pushed him across the seat and got in behind him. Stone drew back his right arm, ready to smash an elbow into his assailant’s face.
“Hey, Stone, don’t hit me!” a plaintive voice yelled.
Stone looked over his elbow. “Herbie, where the hell have you been?”
“Don’t yell at me, Stone.”
The driver piped up. “Where to?”
Stone gave him his address. “I’m not yelling,” he said to Herbie. “Now why did you bail out of your deposition?”
“It was those two guys, Stone; they were after me.”
“Did they drag you out of the building?”
“Well, no, not exactly.”
“You left of your own accord, then?”
“Kind of. But they followed me out, and I had to outrun them again.”
“Herbie, if you hadn’t left, they wouldn’t have followed you out.”
“Well, maybe. I was just uncomfortable with them sitting out there, so I hit the elevator.”
“And where have you been since then?”
“Around.”
“And why didn’t you call me?”
“I was embarrassed.”
“I didn’t know that was possible,” Stone said.
“Huh?”
“What do you want, Herbie?”
“I need some money.”
“What for?”
“I’ve gotta get a room somewhere, and I’m broke. I don’t even have subway money. I was waiting for you outside Elaine’s, but when I saw the cops come, I ran.”
“Why? Are the cops looking for you?”
“No. It was just instinct, I guess.”
“Are you dropping the lawsuit?” Stone prayed for a yes.
“Oh, no, I still want to sue the bastard. Can we reschedule the deposition?”
“That won’t be necessary. Luckily for you, Dattila’s lawyer decided not to depose you. I guess his client had already told him what to expect. We’ll get a trial date soon.”
“Great! I’m looking forward to the trial!”
“I can’t imagine why,” Stone replied.
“Because I want to see Dattila squirm.”
“Dattila doesn’t squirm,” Stone said, “and certainly not from anything you could say to him.”
“Just wait till I get on the stand.”
“It’s your word against his, Herbie. That is, unless there’s a videotape of Dattila telling his goons to kill you slow.”
Herbie reached into his inside coat pocket, pulled out a small dictating machine and pressed a button. There was what sounded like a chair scraping across the floor, then a male voice. “What do we do with him, Mr. Dattila?”
“Kill him slow,” Dattila replied.
Stone snatched the dictator from Herbie’s hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you had this?”
“I was going to spring it in my deposition and make Dattila shit in his pants.”
“I don’t think that would have been Dattila’s response,” Stone said, “but his lawyer might have done that. Herbie, I almost hate to say this, but the recording might actually give us a chance of winning this thing.”
Herbie beamed. “I thought so.”
“And if you’d given it to me immediately, instead of playing games, we might have already settled your suit.”
“I don’t want it settled, I want to win it.”
“Is that what they taught you at your Internet law school, Herbie? Never settle? Settling is a good thing, Herbie; you get money, maybe an apology, and Dattila doesn’t put a contract out on you, if you’re lucky. Hasn’t it ever crossed your mind that, even if you do win the suit and get a judgment, and humiliate Dattila in open court, that you’ll have a target on your back for the rest of your days? Or the rest of Dattila’s days, whichever comes first.”
Herbie looked sober for a moment. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said.
“It’s time for some thinking, Herbie. Listen, can you get back into your apartment without anyone seeing you?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Well, then, go home, let yourself in, don’t turn on any lights or the TV, and don’t make any noise, and don’t answer the phone unless it rings once, then stops, then rings again a minute later. If it does that, it will be me.”
Herbie muttered these instructions to himself. “But what am I gonna eat?”
Stone pressed some bills into his hand. “Whatever you do, don’t order in. Stop at a deli and pick up enough groceries for a few da
ys.”
“Okay.”
“And, Herbie, draw all the curtains. Don’t even let the light in the refrigerator be seen.”
“Okay.”
“And don’t leave the apartment, except late at night, and only then to get more food.”
“You said I can’t run the TV?”
“No, you can’t.”
“Well, what am I gonna do?”
“All right, you can run the TV in the daytime, but not at night. They’ll see the flickering light.”
“Okay.”
The cab stopped at Stone’s corner. “Herbie,” Stone said, “please don’t get yourself killed. At least, not yet.”
“Okay,” Herbie said.
Stone got out of the cab and watched Herbie disappear into the night.
34
Stone worked through the morning, clearing his desk so that he could leave early to meet Celia in Connecticut and avoid weekend rush-hour traffic. Joan came into his office.
“We haven’t heard anything from Bernard Finger’s office about his financial statement, have we?”
“I haven’t,” Stone said. “Call Sam Teich over there and tell him I expect the accounting today. I want to get the settlement paid and the money in the bank.”
“Okay.” She left and came back. “Sam Teich has already left the office for the weekend; won’t be back until Monday. Mr. Finger has left, too, for Las Vegas, expected back on Monday.”
“Damn it,” Stone said, “I forgot to hound them about the accounting. Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait until Monday morning. Call Sam Teich first thing. I may wait until Monday morning to come back to town.”
“Well,” Joan said, “don’t wear yourself out up there.”
Stone was upstairs packing a bag when Dino called.
“Hey.”
“Good morning.”
“Afternoon.”
“Oh, all right, good afternoon. What’s up? I’m trying to get out of here for Connecticut before the rush-hour traffic starts.”
