Book 13 in the Stone Barrington series, 2007

Elaine’s, late.

Stone Barrington sat at his usual table with Dino Bacchetti and Bill Eggers. Dino was his old partner from when he had been on the NYPD, and Eggers was the managing partner of Woodman and Weld, the law firm for which Stone was of counsel, which is to say, he did the work that the firm did not wish to be seen to do, sometimes for clients the firm did not wish to be seen to represent. He did this work from a distance, at his home office in Turtle Bay.

Stone took his first sip of his second bourbon, while Dino and Eggers did likewise for their second Scotch.

“I’m hungry,” Stone said. “How long since we ordered dinner?”

Eggers glanced at his watch. “Twenty minutes.”

“I should have my green bean salad, hold the peppers, by now,” Stone said.

“Look around,” Dino said. “It’s a busy night.”

It was a busy night, Stone reflected, and then it got even busier. The front door opened, and in walked Herbert Q. Fisher with two hookers. Stone knew they were hookers, because renting was the only means by which Herbie Fisher could acquire company so attractive, not that they were all that attractive.

“Oh, shit,” Stone said.

“Shit what?” Dino asked.

“It’s Herbie Fisher.” Stone looked away from the door, so as not to catch Herbie’s eye. It didn’t work.

Herbie stopped at Stone’s table, picked up his hand and pumped it. “Hey, Stone, baby!” he yelled, forming his words carefully enough that he appeared drunk. “How’s it hanging?”

“Hello, Herbie,” Stone said. “How are you?” He immediately regretted the question.