Fresh Disasters (Stone Barrington 13)

Dino laughed. “That’s good; that’s really good.”

Stone looked at the front door. “No,” he said, nodding toward the door, “that’s good.”

Dino swiveled his head in time to see Bernard Finger and Marilyn the Masseuse being led to a table up front.

Stone grabbed the complaint from Dino’s fingers and stuffed it back into the envelope. “I’ll be right back,” he said, rising.

He walked toward the front of the restaurant. Finger didn’t see him coming, but Marilyn did, and her face fell. Finger turned around to look for the problem and found it immediately.

“Oh, hi, Stone,” he said. “I was going to call you in the morning to set up depositions in your case against Carmine Dattila. Why don’t we do Mr. Dattila and Mr. Fisher back to back in my office, day after tomorrow at two?”

“I’d be very happy to depose Mr. Dattila, Bernie,” Stone said, “but as you probably know, my client is momentarily indisposed.”

“Well, in that case, I guess we’ll just have to postpone depositions until Mr. Fisher is feeling more disposed,” Finger said, smirking.

“I hope, for your sake, that Mr. Fisher is found alive and well,” Stone said, “because if he isn’t, you’re going to be reading a lot about him and his lawsuit in the papers, and Dattila doesn’t like seeing his name in the papers, does he?”

“You’ve got no case, Stone,” Finger said. “Learn to live with it. It’s sad, I know, since that’s probably the only work you’ve got at the moment.”

“No, Bernie, it isn’t my only case,” Stone said, taking the envelope from his pocket. “I have a brand-new one.” He laid the document on the table.

Finger removed the document from the envelope, and as soon as he read the first sentence his face fell.

“You’ve been served, Bernie. Call me tomorrow, and we’ll arrange a settlement conference.” Stone sauntered back to his own table and sat down, pointedly not looking in Finger’s direction.

“You served him?” Dino asked.

“I did. What’s he doing?”

“He’s still reading, and he doesn’t look happy. Now he’s turning to Marilyn and saying something, and she’s wearing a huge smile and kissing him.”

“Well, I’m sorry to make Marilyn so happy, but if that’s the price of making Bernie unhappy, then so be it.”

“Uh-oh, here comes Bernie.”

Stone looked up to see Finger approaching, clutching the complaint.

“Can we meet tomorrow morning in my office at eleven?” Bernie asked, his face expressionless.

“Perfect, Bernie.”

“I’ll make short work of this.”

“That will be easy, if you accept Bernice’s terms. And Bernie,” Stone said, “remember: A lawyer who represents himself has a fool for a client, so bring somebody. Oh, and congratulations to you and Marilyn on your engagement. I wish you every happiness.”

Finger turned around and stalked back to his table.

Stone waved for another round of drinks, and when they came he raised his glass to Dino. “You know, yesterday I was having trouble paying the bills, but today I’ve got a hundred grand of Bernie Finger’s money in the bank, and when I’m through with him, he’ll never know what hit him.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Dino said, raising his own glass.

23

Stone arrived at Bernie Finger’s office fifteen minutes late, just to annoy him. As he waited for the receptionist to announce him he looked around Finger’s waiting room. Everything was tasteful but with an extra coat of gloss, which pretty much described Bernard Finger, Esquire, Stone thought.

A shapely young woman materialized before him. “Mr. Barrington? Will you please come with me?”

Stone resisted the riposte and, with pleasure, followed the young woman. He was led to a large conference room, where Bernie Finger and a younger man awaited. The huge table was completely bare.