“Who’s dead?”
“I don’t have that information. Just get up here, okay, Mr. Barrington?”
“I’m on my way. Will you get hold of Lieutenant Bacchetti at the one-nine and ask him to meet me there?”
“Okay.” The cop hung up.
Stone thought of waking Ham, but changed his mind. He ran outside and hailed a cab.
Stone walked into the precinct, and he was scared. He presented himself to the desk sergeant.
“Right,” the sergeant said. “See Detective Briscoe back there.” He nodded toward a door.
Stone walked into a small squad room and looked at the only detective there.
“Barrington?” the man asked.
“Yes. What’s happened?”
“You were a detective over at the Nineteenth, weren’t you?” the man asked.
“What the hell has happened?” Stone demanded.
“Are you acquainted with a cop from Florida named Holly Barker?”
“Yes, she’s staying at my house.”
“Come with me.” He got up and walked down a corridor with Stone at his heels. He opened the door to an interrogation room. “In here.”
Stone walked in and the door closed behind him. Holly was sitting at the table stroking Daisy, who was stretched out on the tabletop.
Holly looked up at him. “It’s okay,” she said. “She’s coming around.” She stroked Daisy’s head. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Just take your time. You’ll be all right in a minute.”
Stone sank into a chair and gave Daisy a pat. “I thought you were dead,” he said.
“No.”
“The desk sergeant who called me said there was a homicide.”
“There was a shooting—self-defense.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know; a guy. There were two of them. The second one ran when I shot the first one.”
“Why did you shoot him?”
“Because he was trying to kill me with a knife.”
“Where did all this happen? Start at the beginning.”
“Daisy and I were running, and she was shot with a dart, then somebody hit me upside the head, but not hard enough to put me out. I rolled over a couple of times and got hold of the gun Ham gave me. It was in my jacket pocket. The guy was walking toward me with the knife, as if he didn’t expect any opposition. I shot him.” She held up a corner of her jacket, where the bullet had gone through. “I didn’t have time to draw.”
Stone put a hand to her cheek. “You’re cold,” he said. “Are you feeling all right?”
“I am now,” she replied. “I had a case of the shakes for a while. A cop on horseback found me. I guess he heard the shot.”
“Can I leave you here for a couple of minutes?”