Hit List

47

Stone called Dino, reflecting that, at times like these, it was good to be able to go straight to the top, instead of dealing with a 911 operator.

“Bacchetti.”

“Dino, I have big news.”

“I could use some big news, if it’s of a positive nature.”

“Larkin has discovered that Frances stole all his money.”

“All his money?”

“Jah. Well, at least enough of it to make him want to recover it.”

“‘Jah’?”

“Sorry about that. The bank is in Iowa, and they talk that way out there.”

“If you say so.”

“Take my word for it. Larkin called the bank a few minutes ago and laid claim to the funds. A banker named Gunderson directed him to a New York law firm apparently hired by Frances to handle her estate.”

“Which law firm?”

“One by the name of Woodman & Weld, care of one Herbert Fisher, Esq.”

“Sounds like you’re chasing your tail,” Dino said.

“I’m acutely aware of that. Herbie is now clued in. He’s already had a call from Larkin and e-mailed him a lengthy form to fill out to prove his identity.”

“E-mailed where?”

“To an unnamed computer shop in New York.”

“And how do we know he’s in New York and not Iowa, or wherever they talk like that.”

“We don’t.”

“And we can’t cover the shop, because there must be fifty of them in midtown, even more downtown and in the boroughs.”

“Dino, I can only tell you what I can tell you, jah?”

“Are you at a fascist rally?”

“That was a ‘yes’ in your native tongue.”

“My native tongue is Sicilian.”

“Jah. All we can do now is wait for Herbie to hear from Larkin and arrange a meet.”

“Have him tell Larkin to come to his office.”

“Are you nuts? I don’t want a crazed gunman wandering around the Seagram Building, looking for the right office number and being pissed off when he can’t find it.”

“All right, tell Herbie to ask him to lunch. It’s getting to be about that time.”

“Where?”

“At the Grill, in the Seagram Building.”

“Same problem, Dino, just a different floor.”

“Well, he can’t invite him to some noodle shop. He might catch on.”

“Jah,” Stone said before he could catch himself. “We have now reached the point where you have to get an idea. I’m fresh out.”

Dino pondered that for long seconds. “I don’t suppose One Police Plaza would work, either.”

“Good guess.”

“Well, now that we’re guessing, I guess we can’t solve this problem, at least not by conventional means. If we flood midtown with every available car, Larkin just might notice.”

“That’s a good bet.”

“Okay, let Herbie tell Larkin to choose the spot. He knows where he is.”

“Indubitably.”

“Herbie can say he’s going out to lunch somewhere, and Larkin can meet him outside.”

“Outside anywhere in midtown is still a target-rich environment, unless you know of an empty restaurant.”

“I got it!” Dino said.

“What?”

“An empty restaurant. That place we went to that time is being painted. It’ll be deserted at lunch hour, because all the painters will have gone somewhere that’s open.”

“Are you talking about P.J. Clarke’s?”

“No, that other one, farther west.”

“The Yard of Ale?”

“That’s the one. I tried to go in, and there were painters everywhere.”

“Well, I suggest you fill the place with cops in painters’ overalls.”

“How much time we got?”

“Strike that last remark about painters. Fill it with cops in business suits, male and female. It’s located in an office building. Leave a table or two empty, one for Herbie.”

“Got it.”

“And we don’t want any black shoes with white socks, got that? They might as well wear badges.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll call you right back.” Stone hung up and called Herbie.

“Herb Fisher.”

“Herb, do you know a restaurant called the Yard of Ale?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell Larkin to meet you there.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s closed for painting.”

“Don’t worry, if you can buy us an hour, it will be filled with cops, not painters. All you have to do is let the guy sit down, then duck and run.”

“An hour?”

“Until lunch hour. That’ll give Dino time to work his magic.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him twelve-thirty.”

“Even better.” Stone hung up and called Dino. “Herbie says twelve-thirty.”

“Great. Can I buy you lunch?”

“Where?”

“At the Yard of Ale, noon.”

“Is the food decent?”

“I recommend the ale.”

“There’s a side entrance from inside the office building.”

“Then we’ll meet there. Come armed.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Stone?”

“Jah?”

“First of all, stop it with the ‘jah’ business.”

“Okay.”

“Second, if you had taken my advice when Ed Eagle got shot, Larkin would think you were dead, and you wouldn’t be putting yourself in jeopardy like this.”

“Oh, swell, rub it in!” Stone hung up.

Herbie was at his desk when the phone rang. “Herb Fisher.”

“Mr. Fisher, this is Egil Krogar.”

Herbie blanked.

“About Frances Bowers’s will?”

“Oh, sorry, Mr. Krogar. I was thinking about someone else.”

“Someone named Krogar? As far as I know, I’m the only person in the United States with that name.”

“No, someone called Emil.”

“That’s not my name.”

“I know.”

“I’ve completed your form. Where should I send it?”

Herbie looked at his watch: a quarter to twelve.

“Mr. Krogar, I’m just on my way to an out-of-office meeting. Could we meet at, say, twelve-thirty? I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Well, I guess so. That’s very generous of you.”

“We’ll both be hungry by then, and we’ll need a few minutes to run through the form together.”

“Where shall we meet?” Krogar asked.

“There’s a place called the Yard of Ale, on East Fifty-third Street.”

“That won’t work,” Krogar said.

“You don’t like sausage and ale?”

“It’s not that. I tried to go there yesterday, and it’s being painted.”

Herbie thought fast. “First day open,” he said. “I just made a reservation. They promise it doesn’t smell like paint, just sausage and ale. And it’s in the building where my appointment is.”

“All right, I’ll see you at twelve-thirty.”

“I’ll be at a table at the rear of the restaurant, where it’s quieter.”

“Fine.” Krogar hung up.

Herbie called Stone.

“Yes, Herb?”

“He’s on for twelve-thirty. He says his name is Egil Krogar.” He spelled the name. “I’ll see you there.”

“Don’t you come anywhere near the place,” Stone said.

“I told him I had a meeting in the building. He’ll be watching for me.”

“All right, go into the building, and take the elevator upstairs.”

“Where upstairs?”

“Anywhere upstairs. Just get out of the lobby.”

“I’ll have to show myself at twelve-thirty, or he won’t show himself.”

“Jesus, Herb, how do you get yourself into these things?”

“By following your instructions. I’ll see you at noon in the lobby entrance. You can figure out what to do with me then.”

“Okay, jah.”

“What?”

“That’s Norwegian for twelve o’clock.” Stone hung up.