“I think that’s my question,” Stone replied, “since you’re rifling my desk.”
“Oh, this?” Doyle tossed the bundle of checks onto the desk. “They were just lying here.”
“No. They were at the back of my center drawer,” Stone replied. “You’re the one doing the lying.”
“I have a perfect right to search your desk,” Doyle said, as if he really did.
“I think that’s called breaking and entering,” Stone said.
“Not if you’re my subordinate.”
Stone came around the desk, grabbed Doyle’s necktie, dragged him to a chair, and pushed him into it. “Let’s get something straight, Brian,” he said, “once and for all: I am not your subordinate in any sense of the word-intellectually, morally, or sartorially. I am your superior in every department, and if you think your little prank with the badge makes any fucking difference, I’ll stick it up your ass sideways.”
Doyle held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “All right, all right, just calm down.”
“State your business, then get out,” Stone said, glaring down at him.
“I just want to talk about the Sharpe and Larsen bust,” he said.
“So, talk.”
“I’m concerned about Mitzi’s safety,” Doyle said.
“So soon? I’ve been concerned about it from day one.”
“Well, me, too. Why do you think I put Tom there to take care of her?”
“Because he’s her partner, and it’s his responsibility, perhaps?”
“Well, sure, but he’s the right guy for the job.”
“So, why aren’t you talking to Tom instead of me?”
“Because since we have him set up as her driver, he’s not going to be welcome at the buy. You will be, though.”
“I’m aware of that,” Stone said. “I’ve just come from a meeting with Sharpe and Larsen where Mitzi proposed the big buy, and Sharpe agreed to the terms.”
“I heard that from Mitzi’s earpiece,” Doyle said. “And why weren’t you wearing yours?”
“Because it’s a pain in the ass and because I don’t want you listening to every word I say,” Stone replied. “I’ll wear it when it’s necessary.”
“It’s necessary every time you have a meet like that,” Doyle said. He was beginning to recover his composure and adopt his superior attitude again. “We’ve got to have yours as a backup, in case Mitzi’s goes on the fritz.”
“I’ll wear it when it’s necessary,” Stone repeated.
“I want us to have another meeting with Tiffany Baldwin about the bust,” Doyle said, changing the subject.
“You have another meeting with her, not I.”
“What, are you afraid of her?”
“If you knew her better,” Stone said, “you’d be afraid of her. You’d better watch your ass, Brian, because I think even the commissioner is a little afraid of her. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been at the last meeting.”
“Why should I be afraid of that bitch?” Doyle asked.
“Because she could destroy you in a heartbeat if she felt like it,” Stone explained.
“And how would she do that?”