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Lucid Intervals (Stone Barrington 18)

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“What’s his name?”

“Sam Leung,” Herbie replied.

“Leung is a Chinese name,” Stone pointed out.

“Yeah, but he makes English suits. He makes any kind of suit you want.”

Stone jotted down the name. “Where is he?”

“Lex and about Sixty-fourth, upstairs.”

“Thank you,” Stone said. “Anything else?” Why the hell hadn’t Joan interrupted him?

“Gee, I don’t know. Why don’t we just talk?”

“Talk about what?” Stone asked, intrigued by this turn in the conversation.

“I don’t know,” Herbie said, shrugging. “What do lawyers and clients talk about?”

“Legal problems,” Stone said.

“Like wills?”

“Sometimes.” Stone looked at his watch again.

“You gotta be somewhere?”

“I have another meeting,” Stone said.

“With who?”

“With a client.” Stone’s phone buzzed, and he picked it up. “Yes?”

“You said to interrupt you after five minutes.”

“It’s been at least half an hour,” Stone replied.

“No, it just seems that way when you’re with Herbie.”

“You have a point. Send him right in as soon as he arrives.”

“Herbie?”

“No, my other client.”

“Oh, that client,” Joan said, then hung up.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Herbie,” Stone said, looking at his watch again.

“Why? What did you do?”

This was turning into an Abbott & Costello routine. “Another client is due here right now, and I have to see him.”

“Can’t I stay until he arrives?” Herbie asked.

“No, he wouldn’t like that. It’s a client confidentiality thing.”

“Can’t I just wait outside until he’s gone?”



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