Fresh Disasters

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.”

Herbie brightened. “Good point, Stone. I’ll need some clothes.”

“Then sneak into your place and pack a bag, and get out of town. The D.A. is going to want you to testify to back up what’s on the tape.”

“In court?”

“That’s where testifying gets done, Herbie. You’ve been to court; you know about that. And you’re a lawyer, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“The courtroom experience will be good for you.”

“What’s this going to do to our civil suit, Stone?”

“If Dattila is convicted it will improve our chances of getting a judgment against him a lot.”

Herbie managed a smile.

“But I’ve got to be able to get in touch with you on a moment’s notice, so you keep that phone on you at all times, and don’t use up all the minutes.”

“Okay, Stone.”

“Well, get going!”

Herbie shook hands and left the office.

Stone asked Joan to come in. When she had taken a chair he said, “I want you to take a vacation, sort of.”

“What’s a vacation sort of?” she asked.

“That’s where we close the office, and you go somewhere nice, and you have all the office calls forwarded to your cell phone. You can reach me on my cell.”

“Where should I go?”

“Jesus, I don’t know. Isn’t there somewhere in the country you’d like to be, besides behind that desk?”

“What’s going on, Stone?”

Stone took a deep breath. “Devlin Daltry, or somebody who works for him, murdered Celia last night.”

Joan turned white.

“Now don’t faint on me.”

She took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m okay. What happened?”

“He somehow tracked her down in New Jersey and, well, it wasn’t pretty.”

Joan put a hand to her mouth. “Her head. That’s what he did, didn’t he? Like the sculpture.”

Stone nodded. “You don’t want more details, believe me.”

“So, I’m running from Devlin Daltry?”

“I think anybody connected with me might have problems.”

“When can I go?”

“Why aren’t you already gone?”

She got up and headed for her office. “Herbie’s going to call you every day, so we’ll know he’s alive!” he shouted after her. “I think.”

Joan had her bag and was letting herself out the front door. “Bye!” She waved and was gone.

Stone ran to the front door and checked the block while she got into a cab. He waved her off, then he went inside and up to his bedroom. He opened the safe in his dressing room and took out his favorite little.45 and a holster.

He would be going armed for the duration.