“Stone,” Herbie said, “I’m rich.”

“That’s rich,” Dino replied.

“No kidding, I’m rich. I won the lottery.”

“How much?” Dino asked.

“Don’t encourage him,” Stone said.

“Thirty million dollars,” Herbie replied.

“How much you got left after taxes and paying off your bookie and your loan shark?” Dino asked.

“I’m warning you,” Stone said. “Don’t encourage him, he’s dangerous.”

“Approximately fourteen million, two,” Herbie replied. “I want to hire you as my lawyer, Stone,” he continued.

“Why do you need a lawyer?” Dino asked.

“All rich people need lawyers,” Herbie said.

“Could you be more specific?” Dino asked.

“Dino,” Stone said, “stop this, stop it right now. He’s sucking you in.”

“Prove you’re rich, Herbie,” Dino said.

“I’ll be right back,” Herbie said. He got up, walked back to where the girl sat, picked up her large handbag, came back to Stone’s table and sat down. He lifted up the handbag and opened it wide, displaying the contents to Stone and Dino. “What do you think that is?” he asked.

“Well,” Dino said, gazing into the purse, “that would appear to be approximately twenty bundles of one-hundred-dollar bills each, or two million dollars.”

“Absolutely correct,” Herbie said.

“Do you always walk around with that much money, Herbie?” Dino asked.

“Only since I got rich.”

“Oh.”

“Stone, I want to retain you as my lawyer. I’ll pay you a one-million-dollar retainer in cash, right now.”

Stone stopped eating. “Dino, have you had any recent training at recognizing counterfeit bills?”

“Funny you should mention that,” Dino said. “We had a guy in from Treasury the day before yesterday who gave us a slide-show presentation on that very subject.”

“Would you examine the bills in the bag, please?”