“He also said suspended.”
Herbie wiped away a tear. “He did?”
“He did,” Lance said. He took an envelope from an inside pocket and handed it to Stone. “Pay his fine, and let’s get him out of here. Go ahead, we’ll wait here.”
Stone went back into the courtroom, found the clerk, and paid Herbie’s fine with the ten thousand dollars in cash in Lance’s envelope. He got a receipt, then rejoined Herbie and Lance in the hallway.
Lance led them out of the courthouse, and they paused at the bottom of the steps.
“Herbie,” Stone said, “do you know what ‘suspended’ means?”
“It means I’m a free man, doesn’t it?”
“No, it means you’re a free man until the second you fuck up again—until you get a ticket for jaywalking or for playing your car radio too loud—for anything at all. That happens, you’re doing a year at Rikers. You understand that?”
“Yes,” Herbie said.
“Herbie’s not going to fuck up again,” Lance said, staring at Herbie. “You remember your little sojourn in the Virgin Islands last year, Herbie?”
“Yeah, sure,” Herbie said.
“Did you like it there?”
“Yeah, it was great. I had this great deal going where I took pictures at the hotels.”
Lance took an envelope out of his coat pocket and handed it to Herbie. “I’m glad you liked it, Herbie, because you’re going back. Here’s your ticket.”
“I am?”
“Your flight leaves at six-twenty this evening. A man will pick you up at your home at four o’clock. You have until then to sell your car and pack.”
“I have to sell my car?” Herbie wailed. “But I just bought it!” He pointed at a new Mustang parked at the curb ten yards from where they stood. There were three parking tickets on the windshield.
“I’m afraid there’s no car ferry service to the Virgin Islands,” Lance said. “And since you can’t drive that or any other car for five years, you’ll have no need of it. By the way, there’s a voucher in the envelope for two weeks in a small hotel in Charlotte Amalie and transportation from the airport. There’s also two thousand dollars in cash, to help you get on your feet.”
“Herbie,” Stone said, “if you get into the slightest trouble in Charlotte Amalie, your previous and current convictions will pop up on the police computer, and you’ll find yourself back here, in Rikers, in a heartbeat. Do you understand?”
But Herbie wasn’t listening. “Hey!” he yelled, pointing at his car. A tow truck had pulled to the curb ahead of it. Herbie sprinted to the car, dove inside, got it started, and roared away from the curb, scattering parking tickets in the wind.
“I can’t believe he’s driving home,” Lance said.
“I wouldn’t have expected anything else,” Stone replied. “Lance, what did you say to Judge Goldstein?”
Lance shrugged. “Let’s just say the judge is a patriot. Nice doing business with you again, Stone.”
“Please, Lance, no more.”
“We’ll see,” Lance replied and strolled toward a black Lincoln parked at the curb with its motor running. Lance opened the door and paused. “Dinner tonight?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Elaine’s, eight-thirty.” He got into the car and it pulled away.
Stone noted that the car had a diplomatic license plate. He wanted one of those.
12
STONE GOT HOME around noon and went to his office. “Where’s Holly?” he asked Joan.
“Oh, she borrowed your car and went somewhere.”
Stone blinked. “She borrowed my car?”