“Run it,” Stone said, “and turn into the park.”
“The park’s closed,” the cabbie said, pointing. “There’s a sign.”
“We could use a cop right now. Do it, and I’ll square it with the cops.”
The cabbie ran the light and turned into Central Park. The car behind them followed.
“Is there a tire iron in the trunk?” Stone asked.
“There’s a tire iron right here,” the cabbie said, reaching down to the floor and handing Stone the steel tool.
“Brake hard and pull over here,” Stone said. “I’m getting out of the car, and if I whistle loudly, get the hell out of here and find a cop.”
The cabbie stood on the brakes and ran the cab up onto the curb. The car behind followed, nearly rear-ending the cab. Stone got out and, clutching the tire iron, advanced on the car. He yanked the driver’s door open, grabbed the driver and pulled him into the street.
The man’s companion got out the passenger door and leveled a snub-nosed revolver at Stone. “Freeze, police!” he yelled.
Stone flashed his own badge. “Yeah? If you’re on the job, what are you doing harassing an innocent woman for money?”
The driver of the car struggled to his feet. “You just assaulted a police officer, pal.”
Stone put away his badge and took out his cell phone, punching a speed-dial button.
“Bacchetti,” Dino said. “This better be good.”
“Lieutenant? This is Stone Barrington. I’ve got two deadbeat cops here who are moonlighting as muscle for a probable felon, and…” He stopped. The two men were back in their car, backing up very fast, then spinning a hundred and eighty degrees and heading the wrong way up the park drive. “Never mind, Dino,” Stone said.
“What the hell is going on?”
“I was being followed by two off-duty cops who’re working for a former friend of Celia’s trying to give her a hard time.”
“Did you get their names?”
“No, but I will next time.”
“You all right?”
“I’m fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Stone hung up, got back in the cab and gave the driver Celia’s temporary Park Avenue address.
“Are they gone for good?” Celia asked.
“I doubt it, but they’re gone for now.” They made their way back to Park Avenue, and the cab stopped. “I want you to go pack enough stuff for a week, jeans and like that; you won’t need a cocktail dress. I’m going to go get my car, and I’ll be back here in half an hour. I want you downstairs with your luggage, waiting, all right?”
“Where are we going?”
“I’ll explain when we’re on the way.”
“All right.” She got out of the cab and ran for the door.
“You did good,” Stone said to the cabbie, then gave him his address.
“That was kind of fun,” the cabbie said. “Who were the two guys?”
“A couple of bad cops working for a bad guy.”
“I hope they didn’t get my cab number.”
“Don’t worry, they weren’t interested in you.”