Dirty Work (7 page)
Stone settled at his desk the following morning and sipped the single cup of coffee he allowed himself after breakfast, an Italian espresso roast, made very strong in a drip coffeemaker. He buzzed Joan.
“Good morning. Please get me Herbie Fisher at his place of work. It’s a Walgreens in Brooklyn. You have his numbers, don’t you?”
“Got them on his first visit. I’ll buzz you back.”
Stone read the front page of the
Times
and washed it down with his black coffee.
Joan buzzed back. “He didn’t show up for work. You want to talk to his boss?”
“Yes.” Stone picked up the phone. “Good morning,” he said, “is this Herbert Fisher’s supervisor?”
“Yes, this is Mr. Wirtz, the manager.”
“I understand that Herbie didn’t show up for work this morning?”
“That’s right.”
“Do you know why?”
“Nope. He didn’t show up yesterday, either.”
“Is this unusual?”
“Well, he’s come in late and hungover before, but at least he always showed up.”
“Thank you,” Stone said. He buzzed Joan. “Try his home number.”
Joan buzzed back a moment later. “His mother answered the phone. I’ve got her on the line.”
Stone pressed the button. “Mrs. Fisher?”
“Mrs. Bernstein,” she replied curtly. “Mr. Fisher took a hike a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry. Mrs. Bernstein, this is Stone Barrington. I’m Herbie’s lawyer, and it’s important that I speak to him. Where can I reach him?”
“You’re
who
? I thought his lawyer was Mr. Levy.”
“Mr. Levy works for me on Herbie’s case. It really is very important that I reach him.”
“You’re a cop, aren’t you?”
“No, ma’am, I’m not. You can look me up in the phone book, if you want to be sure.”
“Hang on.” She put the phone down.
Stone waited, drumming his fingers on the desktop. Why was she taking so long?
She came back on the line. “Yeah, all right, I got you in the book.”
“Where’s Herbie, Mrs. Bernstein?”
“He’s on a boat somewhere or other.”
“A boat? Where would somewhere or other be?”
“Down in some islands, you know? His uncle Bobby is down there, too.”
Stone was having trouble breathing. “In Saint Thomas?”
“Saint something or other,” she said.
“And did he say when he’d be back?”
“He said when things cooled down, and the judge forgot about him.”
Stone was having trouble speaking now. “And did he say when he thought that would be?”
“A year, maybe. He took a lot of clothes.”
“Mrs. Bernstein, did he leave a phone number or the name of his hotel?”
“He said he’d send me a postcard,” the woman said, then she hung up.
Stone was left listening to a dead phone. He wondered, in passing, what his blood pressure might be at this moment. When he recovered himself enough to speak, he buzzed Joan.
“Any joy?” she asked.
“Anything but,” Stone replied. “Get me Bob Cantor on his cell phone.”
“Okay.” She went off the line, then came back. “I’m getting a recording saying that the person’s phone is out of the calling area. What next?”
“First of all, if Irving Newman, the bail bondsman, calls or sends anybody over, I’m out of the country, can’t be reached, and you don’t know when I’ll be back. Got that?”
“Got it.”
“Now get me Tony Levy. He’s probably on his cell phone, too.”
Levy came on the line. “Yeah?”
“Tony, it’s Stone Barrington.”
“Yeah, Stone, you got something for me?”
“Just the opposite,” Stone replied. “When is Herbie Fisher’s next court appearance?”
Levy let out a short laugh. “He jumped bail, didn’t he?”
“There are some things it’s better for you not to know, Tony. When’s his next appearance?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
“Oh, shit. Is Judge Simpson back yet?”
“No, out for at least another week. Kaplan’s still sitting.”
Stone tried to think how things could be worse and failed. “Tony, I want you to get a postponement.”
“On what grounds, and for how long?”
“On any credible grounds you can dream up and until Judge Simpson is back on the bench and in a really good mood.”
“I’ll see what I can do. If I can’t get the postponement, any chance Herbie will show?”
“If he doesn’t, it’ll be because he’s dead.”
“Whatever you say, Stone. What are you going to tell Irving Newman?”
“I’m not going to tell him anything, and don’t you, either.”
“He’ll hear about the postponement, you know. He’s got a guy in court every day.”
“He’ll hear whatever you tell Judge Kaplan, and it better be good.”
“Stone, this is going to cost you.”
“Cost me what?”
“Five grand. That’s my price for lying to a judge.”
“Tony . . .”
“Come on, Stone. We both know it’s a bargain.”
“All right. Joan will send you a check today.”
“Cash, like before. I don’t want to share it with Uncle Sam.”
“All right, Tony. You may be able to reach me on my cell phone, if it’s absolutely necessary.” Stone gave him the number.
“It’s a pleasure doing you, Stone.”
Stone hung up and called Dino.
“Bacchetti.”
“Dino, can you take a few days off?”
“For what purpose?”
“To spend a little time on a tropical island, feeling the warm breeze waft across your bald spot.”
“I don’t have a bald spot; I’m Italian.”
“So’s Rudy Giuliani.”
“On whose nickel am I traveling?”
“Mine, but you’ve got to get me an extradition warrant without logging it in.”
“For who?”
“For Herbie Fisher. He’s jumped bail, and I’m on the hook to Irving Newman for two hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“Oh, boy. The warrant can’t be done; new procedures.”
“Then get me a blank warrant and I’ll fill it in.”
“That, I can manage. When do we leave?”
“Go home now and pack, and you might start working on what you’re going to tell Mary Ann.”
“I’ll blame it on you, the way I always do.”
“I’ll call you when I’ve got a flight booked.” Stone hung up and buzzed Joan. “Please get Dino and me on the next flight to Saint Thomas, and I’m going to need an open, one-way ticket back for Herbie Fisher. And find us a decent hotel there.”
“I stayed at Harborview the year before last,” Joan said. “You’ll like it.”
“That will be fine,” Stone said.
Joan came back a few minutes later. “Your flight leaves in an hour and a half, change in San Juan. You’ll be there for dinner.”
“Thank you,” Stone said. He called Dino’s cell phone.
“Bacchetti.”
“We fly in an hour and a half,” Stone said. “Your driver is taking us to the airport, with the siren on.”
“I hope you got first-class seats,” Dino said.
Stone gave him the flight number. “Get on the phone to the airline’s station chief at Kennedy, sound official, and tell them not to let the flight leave without us,” Stone replied. “And for Christ’s sake, don’t forget your badge.”
“I never leave home without it,” Dino said.
They sat at the end of the runway in San Juan, the engines of the DC-3 roaring, while the pilot did his runup.
Stone was enchanted. He hadn’t been on a DC-3 since he was a boy, and he loved the deep rumble of the radial engines. “This is great, isn’t it?” he said to Dino.
Dino, who was holding tight to the armrests, his knuckles white, did not reply.
“Isn’t it great, being on a DC-3?” Stone asked, elbowing him.
“It has propellers,” Dino said.
“Of course it has propellers.”
“It’s not a jet.”
“You’re very observant.”
“Why is the tail on the ground and the nose in the air? We’ll never get off the ground.”
“It’s a tail dragger,” Stone explained. “It doesn’t have a nosewheel, just a little one at the back. It’s the way all airplanes used to work.”
“They used to crash a lot, too.” Dino let go of an armrest long enough to grab the wrist of a flight attendant, who was walking down the short aisle. “I need a drink,” he said.
“I’m sorry, sir, but our flight is too short to offer drink service. We’ll be in Saint Thomas in half an hour.”
“I’m a cop. Does that make any difference?”
“We don’t even have liquor aboard, sir. Please relax, it’s going to be a very short flight.”
Dino let go of her wrist and resumed his death grip on the armrest. The airplane rolled onto the runway and kept going, while Dino helped by keeping his eyes tightly shut. After an interminable roll, the airplane lifted off and began to climb.
“See,” Stone said, “it flies.”
They crossed the coastline and entered clouds. The airplane began to shake. The pilot came on the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “this is the captain speaking. We apologize for the turbulence, but I’m afraid we’ll be dodging thunderstorms along our route today, so please keep your seat belts fastened.”
Dino let go of an armrest long enough to yank his seat belt tight enough to cut off circulation to his legs.
“This is going to be great,” Stone said, as the airplane leveled off.
Dino looked out the window. “We’re flying awful low.”
“It’s a short flight, Dino. There’s no point in climbing higher; we’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
The airplane suddenly dropped a couple of hundred feet.
“Jeeesus!” Dino said through clenched teeth.
“Nothing to worry about,” Stone said, sounding unconvinced. He was feeling a little queasy himself.
The airplane banked sharply to the right, kept that course for ten minutes, then banked sharply to the left. Items were falling out of the overhead racks.
Then, unexpectedly, they were on the ground, just as a rain squall struck the airplane. It did some weaving as it braked, but then they were at the terminal.
“I want a drink,” Dino said.
“When we get to the hotel,” Stone replied.
The rain continued as they got into a taxi, and what little they could see of the town of Charlotte Amalie through the rain-streaked windows seemed drab. The taxi climbed steeply for a few minutes, then deposited them on the doorstep of a small hotel. Shortly, they were in their adjoining rooms.
“You want a drink now?” Stone called.
“I want a blood transfusion,” Dino called back. “Leave me alone.”
“Our dinner table is in twenty minutes,” Stone shouted. “Get changed.”
Twenty minutes later, they walked out onto a broad terrace overlooking the twinkling lights of the town. The rain had passed, and the night was filled with stars. A pair of cruise ships anchored in the big harbor far below were bathed in their own lights, while the anchor lights of sailing vessels bobbed around them. They found a couple of comfortable chairs, accepted menus from the waiter, and Stone ordered two piña coladas.
“I want a double Scotch,” Dino complained.
“Shut up, you’re in the tropics,” Stone explained.
The drinks were icy cold and delicious. Stone flipped open his cell phone to see if he could get a signal. He did, and he dialed Bob Cantor’s number and got the out-of-range recording. “Either Bob’s on a boat somewhere or he’s turned his phone off,” Stone said.
Dino looked out at the view. “Can you blame him? I’d do the same in this place.”
They listened to the piano player as the bar filled with arriving customers.
“Did you call the DA’s office this morning, about getting Herbie’s charges dropped?” Stone asked.
“Who had time?” Dino replied. “You yanked me out of my office before I had time to do anything.”
“Call him in the morning,” Stone said. “It’ll be easier to convince Herbie to go back to New York if the manslaughter charge has disappeared.”
“Yeah, okay,” Dino said. “Now can I drink this ridiculous drink and enjoy the view?”
“Be my guest.”
“You’d better believe it.”
The waiter came and took their orders. “It’ll be twenty minutes or so,” he said. “Would you like another piña colada?”
“You betcha,” Dino replied.
“What, no Scotch?” Stone asked.
“We’re in the tropics, dummy.”
Stone laughed. “I’m sorry we couldn’t bring Mary Ann along.”
Dino looked at him as if he were mad. “You bachelors,” he said, “don’t understand anything. The duty-free shopping alone would break you.”
“Break
me?"
“We’re on your nickel, remember?”
“My nickel doesn’t extend to duty-free shopping. It won’t support a camera or a Rolex, you remember that. Besides, you’re not going to have time to shop. We have to find Herbie.”
“And how do you figure to go about doing that?” Dino asked.
“If Bob Cantor won’t answer his phone, then I don’t have a clue,” Stone said.
Then a flashbulb went off in their faces.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” somebody with a New York accent said. “Here’s my card. Can I print that great shot for you? Only twenty bucks.”
As his eyes readjusted to the available light, Stone looked up into the smiling face of Herbie Fisher.
Herbie’s smile collapsed. “I, ah . . .” He couldn’t seem to get it out.
Stone was too stunned to speak for a moment. Finally, he said, “Hi, Herbie.”
Herbie turned and sprinted across the terrace like a terrified rabbit, then out through a door.
“Come on!” Stone said. He and Dino struggled out of the deep soft chairs, around the table, and ran after Herbie. Stone got a glimpse of him fleeing the parking lot, and he turned on the speed, losing a loafer in the process. “Get him!” he yelled at Dino, then went back for his shoe. By the time he caught up, Dino was standing in the street, looking around.
“Which way did he go?” Dino asked.
“I don’t know. I had to stop for my shoe.”
“You’re a big fucking help, Stone.”
From behind a little stand of trees beside the street, they heard a car start, then the sound of tires spinning on gravel. Stone ran around the trees in time to see a yellow jeep disappear around a curve. “Well,” Stone said, “at least we know what he’s driving.”
“A jeep?” Dino said, laughing. “Haven’t you noticed that half the tourists on this island are driving rented jeeps?”
“It’s a
yellow
jeep,” Stone pointed out. “They’re not all yellow.”
“I’m hungry,” Dino said.
They walked back into the hotel and out onto the terrace, where two new piña coladas were melting.
“Your table is ready, gentlemen,” the waiter said. “Right this way.”
They settled into a banquette near the door, where they could still see some of the view, and accepted a glass of wine.
“How the hell are we going to find him?” Dino asked, as he dug into his first course.
“He’ll call his uncle Bob as soon as he can, but he’s having the same problem contacting him that I am. As soon as Bob gets within range, I can explain things to him, and he’ll explain them to Herbie.”
“And how long do you figure that will take?” Dino asked.
“Well, Bob’s been down here for at least four days. Maybe he’s ready to go home.”
“What if he’s on a three-week vacation?”
“Don’t say that.”
“When does Herbie have to appear in court?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
“Oh, swell.”
“I called Tony Levy and told him to get a postponement, no matter what.”
“Who’s the judge?”
“Kaplan.”
“You’re fucked,” Dino said, chuckling. “You’re out of a quarter of a mil, and by the time you get home, Irving Newman is going to own your house.”
“Dino, you’re ruining my appetite.”
“Have you called Irving?”
“No. I’m hoping he hasn’t heard that Herbie jumped. How could he know?”
“Well, when Herbie doesn’t show the day after tomorrow, and Tony Levy is standing in front of Kaplan with his dick in his hand, Irving is going to suspect something. He’s got a guy in every courtroom, you know.”
“I know. Can we just drop it?”
“And Irving is not the kind of guy to just trust you for a quarter of a mil.”
“It’s not a quarter of a million, it’s two twenty-five.”
“Oh, that’ll make all the difference,” Dino said.
“Really, Dino, you’re ruining my dinner.”
“Of course, you’ve got some bucks in the bank. You could write Irving a check.”
“I’d have to sell stock, and my portfolio is way down. I have hopes of it bouncing back, but it would cost me dearly to write that check right now.”
“Didn’t you have to make a margin call last week?”
“Dino, if you keep talking about this I’m going to go back to the room, find your gun, and shoot you.”
“I didn’t bring a gun.”
“Let’s change the subject, all right?”
“Okay.” Dino chewed for a moment and sipped his wine. “Does Carpenter know you left town?”
Stone groaned. “I didn’t have time to call her.” He dug out his cell phone and called the Lowell. “What’s the name she’s registered under?”
Dino looked thoughtful. “I don’t remember,” he said. “She’s got too many names.”
The hotel answered.
“Just a moment,” Stone said, covering the phone. “Come on, Dino, help me out here.”
“I swear, I can’t remember it.”
“Neither can I.” Stone slapped his forehead. “Susan!” he said.
“That’s right!”
He put the phone to his ear. “May I speak to Susan Kinsolving, please?”
The phone rang and rang, then the operator came back on. “I’m sorry, sir, but there’s no answer. Would you like voice mail?”
“Yes, please.” Stone listened to the message and heard the beep. “It’s Stone. I’ve had to leave town on business. Please call me on my cell phone.” He repeated the number, in case she had lost it. “I’ll be back in a day or two.” He punched off.
Dino laughed. “A day or two? That’s funny.”
“We might get lucky.”
“We already got lucky, and you blew it.”
“I
blew it?”
“It wasn’t me,” Dino pointed out.
“You were closer to him than I was. You could have just grabbed him.”
“Who could see after the flash went off?”
“Well, I couldn’t see either.”
A woman at the next table leaned over. “Excuse me,” she said, “but are you two married to each other?”
“I’m very sorry,” Stone said.
“You sure sound married,” she said, then went back to her dinner.
“You’re embarrassing me,” Stone whispered.
"I’m
embarrassing
you
?” Dino asked, astounded.
“I asked you to change the subject.”
“And I did,” Dino replied.
“Gentlemen,
please,
” the woman at the next table said.
“I’m very sorry,” Stone said again.
“I did change the subject,” Dino whispered.
“Shut up,” Stone said.
