Hit List

46

Stone had just finished his roll when Joan buzzed him. “A Mr. Gunderson from the First Plains Bank and Trust Company of Ames, Iowa.”

“Didn’t you tell him he had a wrong number?”

“No, he knew exactly who he wanted to talk to, and that is you.”

Stone picked up the phone. “Mr. Gunderson, what can I do for you?” he asked quickly, as if he had been on another line.

“Well, Mr. Barrington,” he said, “you can tell me where all this money came from.”

“What money is that, Mr. Gunderson?”

“The money that was mentioned in her will, some 847, 500 dollars of it. I know it didn’t belong to Frances, because I loaned her ten thousand dollars a coupla weeks ago, jah? So’s she could eat something and pay her rent.”

“Jah, if you say so, Mr. Gunderson.” Stone was beginning to feel that he had stepped into a scene from the movie Fargo.

“I recall that a sum of money was mentioned in her will, but I don’t recall a number.”

“Well, we been readin’ about this feller, Larkin, who she got herself tangled up with, and our bank don’t take no funds from dubious sources.”

“Mr. Gunderson, a last will and testament is not a dubious source, and it was properly signed, sworn, and attested to by the appropriate number of witnesses, as is often done in hospitals in these parts.” He clamped his hand over his mouth to prevent further Midwestern colloquialisms from escaping.

“It’s the source of the funds we’re talkin’ about here,” Gunderson said. “This Sig Larkin sounds dubious to me.”

“Be that as it may,” Stone said, “it sounds like a number to me, and that’s what banks deal in, as I recall. Now, my suggestion would be to accept the funds into her account and to wait for a while in case somebody asks for some or all of it back. At that time, you can assess the validity of the claim and pay, or not pay, accordingly.”

“How long is ‘for a while’?” Gunderson asked.

“You get to decide that.”

“Reason I ask is, somebody has already requested some — strike that — all of it.”

“Oh? And who might that be?”

“It would be a New York lawyer,” Gunderson said, “and I expect you can imagine what folks in these parts might think of that.”

“Well, Mr. Gunderson, you’re talkin’ to a New York lawyer right now, and we don’t take kindly to insults from west of the Mississippi. Nor east of that river, neither. Now, why did you call me, instead of him?” God help me, Stone thought, I’m locked into this lingo!

“Frances mentioned you in a note. Well, I hardly know what to do next,” Gunderson confessed.

Then the penny dropped. “Why don’t you begin by telling me the lawyer’s name and phone number, and I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Would that service be gratis?” Gunderson asked.

“Up to a point which we have not yet reached.”

“All right, the firm name is Woodman & Weld.” Gunderson kindly spelled it for him, which he didn’t need, since he was a member of that firm. “And the name is Herbert Fisher, Esq., which I take to mean Esquire. I thought that reference was for gentlemen, not New York lawyers.” He gave Stone his own office number.

“It takes all kinds to make a firm of New York lawyers, Mr. Gunderson,” Stone said. “Now, if you will give me an hour or so, I’ll see what I can learn about this transaction.”

“Jah, I can do that, I guess. But after an hour, my mind is going to start taking a suspicious view of things again. I’ll speak to you in an hour.”

“Or so,” Stone said. “Mr. Fisher could be occupied with a client.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I don’t control the actions or meeting times of other attorneys, Mr. Gunderson. It’ll be ‘or so,’ and it’s still gratis.”

“Jah,” Gunderson said, emphatically. “I’ll count on that.”

“Start counting, Mr. Gunderson,” Stone said, then hung up. He buzzed Joan. “Get me Herbie,” he said, “and kindly produce him on the line in less than an hour and a quarter.”

“Oookay,” Joan said slowly. “Is it okay if it’s faster than that?”

“Jah,” Stone said, and hung up.

An hour and four minutes had passed before Joan buzzed him and handed him Herbie on the line.

“How are you, Stone?” Herbert Fisher was a protégé of Stone’s, in a manner of speaking, who had formerly been a sly shyster of an attorney with a dubious claim to membership in the bar. Under Stone’s tutelage, he had transformed himself into a graduate of New York University Law School, passed the bar, and gone to work for Woodman & Weld, where he was recently elected partner.

“Herb,” Stone said, since the young man had developed an aversion to Herbie. “What do you know about the last will and testament of one Frances— Oh, I forget her last name.”

“I believe I know of whom you speak,” Herbie said. “New York Hospital sent me her file, which contained a proper will.”

“Do you know what the estate was worth?”

“No, I haven’t got around to that.”

“Well, it turns out to be something north of eight hundred thousand dollars,” Stone said.

“Oh, good, then we’ll get paid.”

“That’s exactly what a Mr. Gunderson of the First Plains Bank & Trust Company would have said you’d say.”

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Herbie replied.

“Well, you’re about to,” Stone said. “When he calls, he’ll explain himself in slightly accented English, or perhaps, Swedish: one of those. Careful, it’s catching.”

“Okay.”

“Something else, Herb.”

“What?”

“It’s very likely that you’ll get a call soon, from someone who will represent himself as being the rightful heir to Frances’s fortune.”

“Oh, yeah,” Herbie said. “He just called.”

“Well, I believe you just spoke to Sig Larkin, the hit man in the hit-list controversy. Did you get his particulars?”

“He said he was away from his computer, so I e-mailed him a form at a computer shop in midtown which will take him an hour or so to fill out, and I told him we’d go on from there.”

“You done good, Herbie,” Stone said. “I’ll call you back. Oh, and don’t send him any money. Stall.”

“I’m good at that. I’m a New York lawyer.”

Stone hung up and called Gunderson.

“Jah, this is Nihls Gunderson.”

“And this is Stone Barrington, back to you in slightly more than an hour or so.”

“Jah, good.”

“I’ve spoken to Mr. Fisher on your behalf, and he is ready to take your call. Please leave the matter entirely in his hands, and don’t call back the other man who called you about the money.”

“How did you know about that call, Mr. Barrington?”

“We New York lawyers have a secret means of communication called the telephone,” Stone replied. “Oh, I should tell you that his firm, Woodman & Weld, is highly thought of on this side of the Continental Divide, and so is Mr. Herbert Fisher. Kindly treat him accordingly.”

“Jah, I’ll do that. I looked her up, and I see that you’re one of her senior partners, so I guess I started in the right place.”

“I guess you did, Mr. Gunderson. Look up before you leap, is always a good policy.”

“Jah, I expect so.”

“And if, by any chance, someone turns up at your office, inquiring about Frances’s funds, leave the room to check on something, and call the police. That man will be a cold-blooded killer, and you should have no truck with him.”

“I tink that’s good advice,” Gunderson said.

“Auf wiedersehen.” Stone hung up. He hoped the man wasn’t Swedish.