Lucid Intervals (Stone Barrington 18) - Page 72
“They did?”
“That’s the way they work.”
“So I don’t owe the IRS anything?”
“I didn’t say that. How much did you make last year?”
Herbie shrugged. “A hundred and a half, maybe.”
Stone was surprised. “From what source?”
“Some from the ponies, some from poker.”
“But you had to pay your bookie and your loan shark a bunch of money, didn’t you?”
“That was how much I lost,” Herbie said. “A hundred and a half was how much I won.”
“Well, if you combine those numbers, you ended up with a loss.”
“I did?”
“Your accountant will explain it to you. He will also explain how, if you’re going to earn your living as a gambler, you’d better keep some records.”
“But if I do that, the IRS will tax me.”
“If you had kept records for the last year, you’d have a very large deduction to take, and you wouldn’t owe any taxes.”
“Oh.”
“Please, talk to your accountant.”
“I don’t have one.”
“You need one desperately,” Stone said, digging a card out of his desk. “Call this guy; he’s first-rate.”
“Can’t you be my accountant?”
“Certainly not. I’m your lawyer; I have little financial expertise. That guy can tell you how to hang on to your money and to live on the income from it.”
“Okay, I’ll call him. By the way, I want the apartment in Sheila’s and my names.”
“Too late,” Stone said. “All the documents are in your name; it would take a long time to change them, and you couldn’t move into the apartment today.”
“Oh, we moved in last week,” Herbie said.
“How did you do that?”
“I swiped a key from the real estate lady.”
“Herbie, we close today, with the apartment in your name.”
“But I told Sheila…”
“You tell Sheila to call me for an appointment. I’ll sort it out.”
Joan buzzed. “The seller and his attorney and the real estate agent are here.”
“Send them in,” Stone said, moving to the conference table. “Herbie, say nothing during these proceedings. All you do is sign your name where I point, and keep your mouth shut.”
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