Barely Legal

83

Herbie got up at six, rented a car, and headed for upstate New York. On the way he called Stone Barrington.

“I’m not going to be in court.”

“Are you sick?”

“I’m fine. I’ve just got things to do.”

“In the midst of a criminal trial?”

“I know you can handle it.”

“Herbie.”

“You were going to be there anyway, Stone. What’s the big deal?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Let the witness go.”

“You’re kidding.”

“The jurors are getting bored. Let him go.”

“I can’t tell if you’re serious.”

“I’m serious. We’ve made our point.”

“We got an adjournment so he could get his notes.”

“Right. I guess we have to ask him about that. What was he looking up?”

“Herbie.”

“Oh. How did they know David would be at the party? I’m sure he’s come up with a good answer. Let him tell it and let him go.”

“Shouldn’t I show a little interest in the answer?”

“Why? No one else will. Time to score some points with the jury. Throw it back in the ADA’s court. If he wants to ask him questions, there’s nothing we can do about that.”

A speeder whizzed by on the left.

“Are you in your car?” Stone said.

“No, I got the TV on,” Herbie said. Lying to Stone and Dino again was getting to be a habit.

Herbie got off the phone and concentrated on his driving.

It had been a while since he had taken the tactical training course, but Herbie had no problem recognizing the entrance of Strategic Defenses, despite the unobtrusive sign at the side of the driveway. Were it not for that, it might have passed for any gated community. He announced himself and was buzzed in.

The facility was clearly thriving. There were several new buildings Herbie didn’t recognize, including gyms, class buildings, barracks, and even a small medical unit with an ambulance parked out front.

It was a sunny day, and men and women were practicing on the front lawn. Some were doing martial arts. Others were working with weapons, usually in pairs, with an unarmed student pitted against an armed one. The pairings were irrespective of age or sex. It was not unusual for a senior citizen to be matched up with a college student.

Josh Hook came out of the main house as Herbie drove up. With his crew cut and chiseled features, Josh resembled nothing more than a marine drill sergeant. Herbie always had to fight the impulse to say “Sir, yes, sir” when speaking to him.

Josh spread his arms and smiled. “So, Herbie, what do you think?”

“I can see why you want to expand.”

“Yeah. Everyone’s defense crazy these days. I could use another driving track and a rifle range or two.”

“You have your own ambulance?”

Josh grinned. “That’s mainly for show. People see it, they take care. Injuries have gone down since I bought it. It’s a great deterrent.”

“I can imagine.”

“The last time I spoke to you, you were being shot at. How did that work out?”

“Not well.”

Herbie told him about Yvette’s murder.

Joshua’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God! You’re ‘New York Midtown lawyer’? Oh, for goodness’ sakes. I haven’t spoken to Mike in days. I was going to call him this weekend. He’d have clued me in. What’s the upshot? They thought you did it but they don’t now?”

“More or less.”

“So what brings you here?”

“I need a gun.”

“And you came all the way up here? There’s that place in the city where the cops all shop. Why didn’t you get one there?”

“Because the cops all shop there. It would get back to Dino.”

“Why would that be bad?”

“Same reason you don’t announce covert operations on TV. Dino would act, and people would die. And the fact that I had a gun would be moot.”

“Is this something I can help you with?”

Herbie considered the offer. Josh would be a valuable ally if he just knew how to use him. “Thanks. I’ll let you know. Could you be prepared to move on a moment’s notice?”

“Just say the word. You really want a gun?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll have to get a carry permit.”

“I’ve got one. You got it for me when this place opened and I took your course.”

“So you need a gun. I understand you don’t want to go to a cop store. But there must be a dozen places in the city you could have got it without driving all the way up here. What’s the deal?”

“It been a long time, Josh. I need a lesson.”

Joshua Hook nodded. “Okay. Show me what you got.”

Herbie didn’t have much. Josh started him off on one of the indoor ranges, shooting a short distance at a paper target. He watched while Herbie emptied the magazine, then reeled the target in. There wasn’t a single hole in it.

“You’re shooting high to the right,” Josh said.

“What do I do?”

“Aim low to the left.”

Herbie gave him a look.

“Here’s the thing,” Josh said. “For years you’ve been a civilian. You haven’t gotten in trouble, you haven’t fired a gun. But way back when, aren’t you the guy who put two shots in the head of Carmine Dattila?”

“Yeah.”

“How many shots did you fire?”

“Two.”

“You know why? Because you had to. There was something at stake. The fact that you hated the guy didn’t hurt, but here’s a bully, an aggressive madman who’s going to kill you on a whim. So you walk in the door and, bang, bang! It’s not aiming, it’s not target shooting. It’s just like pointing your finger.”

Josh gestured to the door. “Okay, let’s go outside.”

“Why?”

“What you lawyers call a change of venue.”

Josh took Herbie to one of the four outdoor shooting ranges.

“Okay, here we go. I’ll walk you through the obstacle course. The targets jump out at you. No time to aim.”

“Nothing to remember?”

“Just squeeze the trigger. Don’t jerk it high right.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s the spirit. You got the layout? You go alone. Those are real bullets, and I don’t want one.”

Herbie walked through the course, firing as the targets popped up. Josh hadn’t told him to, but he found himself crouching as he went. He came out feeling good.

“How’d I do?”

“Much better. You actually hit some of the targets. You also hit a cop, a nun, and a kid on a bicycle, but nobody’s perfect.”

“The nun looked suspicious.”

“You want to go again?”

Herbie shook his head. “As long as I’m hitting something, I’m fine.”

“So now you want a gun?”

“Can you sell me one?”

“No, but I’ll give you one.”

“Oh?”

“I figure I owe you.”

“Why’s that?”

“When you took my course, you refused to run. You said there was no reason to make everyone do it just because I could. You said I’d do better treating the students as professionals rather than raw recruits.”

“I was a wiseass in those days.”

Josh shook his head. “Not at all. Best advice I ever got. So I figure I can give you a gun.”

“Okay. Which one do you want to give me?”

“The one in your hand. Stick it in your pants, and you’re good to go.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Yeah. I’ll give you a hip holster. But that’s your gun.”

“Thanks, Josh.”

Josh walked Herbie out to the car. Herbie got in and started the engine. Josh rapped on the window. Herbie rolled it down.

“Yeah?”

“Try not to shoot any nuns.”