Book 18 in the Stone Barrington series, 2010

Elaine’s, late.

Stone Barrington and Dino Bacchetti were sitting at their usual table, eating penne with shrimp and vodka sauce, when a young man named Herbert Fisher walked in with a tall young woman.

Stone ignored him. Herbie Fisher was the nephew of Bob Cantor, a retired cop with whom Stone had worked many times. Bob Cantor was Herbie’s only connection with reality. Herbie Fisher, in Stone’s experience, was a walking catastrophe.

Herbie seated his girl at a table to the rear, then walked back and took a chair at Stone’s table. “Hi, Stone,” he said. “Hi, Dino.”

“Dino,” Stone said, “you are a police officer, are you not?”

“I am,” said Dino, spearing a shrimp.

“I wish to make a complaint.”

“Go right ahead,” Dino said.

“What’s going on, Stone?” Herbie asked.

Stone ignored him. “There is an intruder at my table; I wish to have him removed.”

“Remove him yourself,” Dino said. “I’m eating penne with shrimp and vodka sauce.”

“You are a duly constituted officer of the law, are you not?” Stone asked.

“Once again, I am.”

“Then it is your duty to respond to the complaint of an upstanding citizen.”

“What kind of citizen?”

“Upstanding.”

“I’m not at all sure that the word describes you, Stone.”

Herbie, whose head was following the conversation as if he were seated in the first row at Wimbledon, said, “No kidding, Stone, what’s going on?”

Stone continued to ignore him. “Dino, am I to understand that you are ignoring a citizen’s complaint?”

“You are to understand that,” Dino said, mopping up some vodka sauce with a slice of bread. “Do your own dirty work.”