Strategic Moves (Stone Barrington 19)

“And your client was driving . . . flying it?”

“For a short time, yes.”

“That is the wildest story I’ve ever heard!”

“Tell me, is the DA expecting to call my client as a witness in these prosecutions he’s so looking forward to?”

“That was my impression,” Willa replied.

Well, Stone thought, we’ll see about that.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Stone excused himself, let himself into Dick Stone’s secure office, and called Lance Cabot’s cell number.

“Yes, Stone? And why are you in Maine again on such a cold weekend?”

Stone ignored the question. “Why does the Manhattan district attorney believe that Pablo’s questioning is going to result in numerous prosecutions for him and that Pablo will be testifying?”

Lance sighed. “I happened to have dinner with him at Peter Luger’s in Brooklyn the evening before last. I’m afraid he may have overestimated his potential involvement in the results of Pablo’s testimony.”

“Were you drunk?” Stone asked.

“Now, Stone, don’t make too much of this, please.”

“Too much of it? Apparently, details of my client’s cooperation are abroad in the land. Surely you’re aware that that sort of information could endanger his life and those of his family?”

“Nonsense. Pablo has nothing to fear.”

“Well, let’s take a hypothetical example: Pablo tells you, on tape, that he sold X arms to X person on X date, and someone in the DA’s office lets that slip to an acquaintance of X. What do you think X’s reaction will be?”

“You have a hypothetical point, Stone, but don’t stretch it. It won’t happen that way.”

“Lance, I give you notice now: if you ask Pablo a question the answer to which might put his life in jeopardy, I will instruct him not to answer.”

“Stone, I’m sure our four days together will go very smoothly, and I’ll do everything I can to protect Pablo’s health and happiness during the proceedings.”

“Thanks, Lance. I’m going to hold you to that, and afterwards, too.” Stone hung up and returned to Willa.

“Problem?” she asked.

“Not anymore,” he replied, hoping it was true.

They had a good dinner and retired early. Willa came to bed wearing only a short, filmy nightgown, and Stone received her wearing only boxer shorts. Shortly, neither was wearing anything.

“You have a reputation to live up to,” Willa said, throwing a leg over and snuggling close, her breasts firmly against his chest.

“Oh, God,” Stone breathed, but he did his best to live up to it.

When they had finished and lay on their backs, letting the ceiling fan cool their sweating bodies, Willa said, “I hope what I said about the DA hasn’t disrupted anything for you.”

“What you said hasn’t,” Stone said, “but what the DA said may, before this is over.”

“He wasn’t supposed to know about your meeting?”

“He was told by a participant who was indiscreet,” Stone said. “I’ll take steps to see that it doesn’t matter.”

“I hope that works out for you,” she said.