Fresh Disasters (Stone Barrington 13)
She was obviously flabbergasted to see him so far off the reservation. “Uh, hello, Boss. You know Stone Barrington?”
The Old Man offered his hand. “We’ve opposed each other once or twice. It’s one to one, so far, isn’t it?”
“I thought it was two-nil, your favor,” Stone said.
“No sucking up,” the Old Man said. “Come on, Dierdre, I’ll give you a lift back to the office. You’ve got a deposition, haven’t you?”
She was momentarily nonplussed. “Yes sir, I have, and I’d love a lift. It’s so hard to get cabs at this time of day.” She got up and went with the Old Man, but not before she had turned to Stone and mouthed, “Call me!”
Stone sighed, put away his dictator and dug out a credit card. Saved from a fate worse than death by the district attorney. And he had done himself some good, too: He had Dierdre interested not just in Carmine Dattila but in Devlin Daltry, and that could come in useful.
43
Stone arrived back at his house to find Herbie Fisher waiting in his office.
“Hey, Stone!” Herbie cried, as if they hadn’t seen each other in years.
“What are you doing here, Herbie?”
“I didn’t know where else to go, unless you think it’s safe for me to go back to my apartment. I mean, Cheech is dead and Gus is in jail, isn’t he?”
“You think those two guys are the only muscle working for Dattila?”
“Well, I…”
“Exactly.” He pressed a button and Joan answered. “Have we got a thousand dollars in the safe?”
“Yes, I guess so.”
“Bring me that much in an envelope.” He regarded Herbie. “Do you have any relatives besides your uncle Bob?”
“Well, there’s my mom’s sister, Gladys. She lives out on the Island. Her husband’s a plumber out there, does really well.”
“Is she speaking to you?”
“Are you kidding? I’m her favorite!”
“When did you last see her?”
“I don’t know, maybe a year ago.”
“If you turned up on her doorstep, would she take you in?”
“Sure, I guess so.”
“Then why aren’t you out there? You’ve been on the run for a while now.”
“She’s in East Hampton, and that’s too far out. I don’t like being away from the action, and that’s in Manhattan.”
“Herbie, has it occurred to you yet that just being in Manhattan could get you killed?”
“Well, I guess that after all that’s happened…”
“Exactly.” Joan came into his office and handed him the envelope. Stone handed it to Herbie. “There’s a thousand dollars in this envelope,” he said. “Here’s what I want you to do: go to Third Avenue and take a left; there’s a cell phone store there, almost on the corner. Buy a throwaway, untraceable cell phone with a couple of hundred minutes on it and be sure to ask the clerk if it has a GPS chip in it; don’t buy it if it does. Call Joan and give her the number, then get a cab to Penn Station and take the next train to East Hampton. Throw yourself on your aunt’s mercy, and don’t do anything to make her or her husband mad at you. Call Joan every morning at ten and let her know you’re okay.”
“Gee, East Hampton…I don’t know, Stone.”
“Herbie, the Hamptons are full of beautiful girls, very rich beautiful girls. Be nice to them, and they’ll be nice to you.”