Son of Stone (Stone Barrington 21)

“Yes, I’ve met many of them.”

“I dried my clothes a little and got warm, then I went back outside and mingled with the tourists, who were boarding the ferry for the return trip. Nobody asked me for a ticket.”

“I guess they’re unaccustomed to selling tickets to patrons who arrived at the statue under their own steam.”

“Yeah. When I got ashore I took a cab here.”

“Why, Herbie? What would you like me to do?”

“I would like to be divorced,” Herbie replied. “Will you handle that for me?”

Herbie had won the lottery a couple of years before, and he had paid Stone a million-dollar retainer to handle all his legal affairs, and not a few of his personal problems.

“Of course,” Stone said. “Maybe the best way to start would be to send me the papers Stephanie asked you to sign. Do you still have them?”

“Yeah, they’re somewhere in my apartment.”

“Well, grab a cab, go home, get out of those clothes, take a nice hot bath with a glass of brandy floating in it, and when the brandy is all gone, get out of the tub and fax me the papers.”

“That’s the best advice I’ve had all day,” Herbie said. With some difficulty he got into the sodden overcoat, and Stone walked him to the door.

“And, Herbie,” Stone said, “don’t let anybody you don’t know into your apartment. Tell the doorman to be on the lookout for strangers who want to see you, and don’t hesitate to call the police if the two guys show up.”

Herbie nodded and ran for a cab.

Stone stepped into Joan’s office. “Herbie just took a dip in New York Harbor,” he said.

“He told me.”

“How much of Herbie’s retainer is left?”

“About half a million dollars,” she said.

“I don’t suppose we can just write him a check.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“He’s faxing over some divorce papers from Stephanie.”

“I’ll bring them to you when they come.”

Stone nodded and went to his desk. He returned some phone calls, and then Joan buzzed him.

“Herbie’s on the phone,” she said. “I’ll bring in the papers.”

Stone picked up the phone. “The fax just arrived, Herbie.”

“I know, I just sent it.”

Stone took the papers from Joan. “Hang on while I take a quick look through them.” He did so. “Okay, they’re pretty standard. She wants you to admit to adultery and agree to a divorce.”

“Adultery? I didn’t do any adultery.”

“It doesn’t matter. New York is the last state with no-fault divorce; it has to be for cause, the usual choices being adultery, cruelty, or mental cruelty. There’s a move afoot in the state legislature to change that, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

“How about stealing a billion dollars and running?” Herbie asked. “Is that a good enough cause?”

Stone thought about it. “Well, it wasn’t your billion dollars, was it? I’m not sure if stealing somebody else’s billion dollars is grounds for divorce.”