33
Stone opened the door and got into the cab, and as he did, someone pushed him across the seat and got in behind him. Stone drew back his right arm, ready to smash an elbow into his assailant’s face.
“Hey, Stone, don’t hit me!” a plaintive voice yelled.
Stone looked over his elbow. “Herbie, where the hell have you been?”
“Don’t yell at me, Stone.”
The driver piped up. “Where to?”
Stone gave him his address. “I’m not yelling,” he said to Herbie. “Now why did you bail out of your deposition?”
“It was those two guys, Stone; they were after me.”
“Did they drag you out of the building?”
“Well, no, not exactly.”
“You left of your own accord, then?”
“Kind of. But they followed me out, and I had to outrun them again.”
“Herbie, if you hadn’t left, they wouldn’t have followed you out.”
“Well, maybe. I was just uncomfortable with them sitting out there, so I hit the elevator.”
“And where have you been since then?”
“Around.”
“And why didn’t you call me?”
“I was embarrassed.”
“I didn’t know that was possible,” Stone said.
“Huh?”
“What do you want, Herbie?”
“I need some money.”
“What for?”
“I’ve gotta get a room somewhere, and I’m broke. I don’t even have subway money. I was waiting for you outside Elaine’s, but when I saw the cops come, I ran.”
“Why? Are the cops looking for you?”
“No. It was just instinct, I guess.”
“Are you dropping the lawsuit?” Stone prayed for a yes.
“Oh, no, I still want to sue the bastard. Can we reschedule the deposition?”
“That won’t be necessary. Luckily for you, Dattila’s lawyer decided not to depose you. I guess his client had already told him what to expect. We’ll get a trial date soon.”
“Great! I’m looking forward to the trial!”