Unnatural Acts

7

Stone looked up from his desk to find Herbie Fisher standing in his doorway, breathing hard.

“Good afternoon, Herbie,” Stone said. “Have you taken up jogging?”

“I walked over here.”

“Sit down and catch your breath.”

The look on Herbie’s face made Stone wonder if the young man was going to explode or just cry.

“I got it all done, Stone, I told you that.”

“You did. Did you tell Bill?”

“Yes. He is unhappy.”

“Why?”

“Because Dink escaped from the funny farm van and is loose. I told Eggers I wasn’t in charge of escaped lunatics, and he told me I am now.”

“So you have a new assignment,” Stone said. “Be optimistic-it gives you another opportunity to impress Eggers and Marshall Brennan.”

“I don’t want to impress them anymore,” Herbie said. “They have no gratitude.”

“Herbie, you were asked to deliver Dink to Winwood Farm, and you failed.”

“I didn’t fail-his keepers failed!”

“You entrusted him to them, and they failed you. But you failed Eggers.”

“That’s warped,” Herbie said.

“Tell me something, Herbie, did you enjoy your tasks?”

“Well, yeah, but then everything went to hell.”

“Find a way to enjoy tracking down Dink. You’ll feel better.”

“I have no experience in the field of missing persons,” Herbie wailed. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Herbie, imagine that Dink owes you two hundred grand and that he is trying to avoid you.”

“I wouldn’t let him get away with that,” Herbie said.

“Exactly. What Dink actually owes you is his carcass at Winwood Farm. Find him and make him pay.”

“Where do I start?”

“Ask yourself, ‘If I were Dink Brennan and I wanted to avoid Herbie Fisher, where would I go?’”

Herbie regarded his well-buffed shoes morosely. “I don’t know where he would go.”

“Well, you know that he would probably not go back to the one place you already know about: his dorm room. Right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Who are his friends? Who is his girlfriend? Where does he drink? Those are all pertinent questions. Start finding out the answers.”

“Can I hire a PI? Those guys know how this is done.”

Stone sighed. “All right, I will authorize you to hire a skip tracer for three days at the expense of Woodman and Weld.”

“Eggers would go nuts if I spent that money.”

“No, Eggers would simply bill Marshall Brennan.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Suck it up, Herbie. Get it in gear, move your ass.”

Herbie got up and slouched toward the door.

“Herbie?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know a skip tracer?”

Herbie thought for a minute. “No,” he admitted.

“Sit down. I’m going to help you out.”

Stone pressed a button on his phone. “Joan, please get me Mike Freeman at Strategic Services.” He waited a moment.

“Mr. Freeman on one.”

Stone picked up the phone. “Mike?”

“Hello, Stone, welcome back from our nation’s capital. I read of your exploits in some of our worst newspapers.”

“Put it out of your mind, Mike. I have.”

“If you say so.”

“Mike, you’ve met a Woodman and Weld associate named Herbie Fisher, have you not?”

“I have. Nice young fellow.”

“And you know Marshall Brennan?”

“I do. I invest with him.”

“Good. Herbie was sent up to Yale to assist Marshall’s son, Dink, into a bucolic establishment in Connecticut where he was to receive attention for his gambling and drug problem.”

“Sounds like Winwood Farm.”

“One and the same. Unfortunately, in spite of Herbie’s stellar work, young Dink managed to extricate himself from the transportation provided and is now wild in the country.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Herbie is a bright fellow, but he has no experience in the tracing of missing persons. I thought, perhaps, that you might provide him with some assistance.”

“Who’s buying? Herbie?”

“Woodman and Weld, until they can bill Marshall Brennan.”

“I can do that,” Mike said. “Is Herbie with you?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Put him on the phone.”

“Of course.” Stone pointed at Herbie, then at the phone on the coffee table before the sofa in his office.

Herbie went to the sofa and picked up the phone. “Mr. Freeman? Yes, sir. No, sir, I cut up his credit cards and gave his cash to the driver of the Winwood Farm van. He was wearing jeans and a polo shirt and a brown leather jacket and sneakers. I picked him up at his Yale dorm room. No, sir, I don’t know the name of his roommate or his friends, and I don’t know if he has a girlfriend. Yes, sir, I’ll be there in an hour.” Herbie hung up, and turned toward Stone. “Mr. Freeman is on it, and I’m to go to his office.”

“Herbie, you’re about to have a very valuable learning experience. Watch how Mike and his people work and remember everything.”

“Okay, Stone,” Herbie said, getting to his feet.

“And don’t walk, Herbie, it makes you pant and sweat. Take a cab.”

Herbie took his leave.

Joan buzzed.

“Yes?”

“Dino on one.”

Stone pressed the button. “Hey, Dino.”

“We need to talk,” Dino said. “Elaine’s, eight-thirty?”

“Dino,” Stone said sadly, “take a deep breath. Elaine’s is no more, remember?” Stone could hear the sound of Dino smiting his forehead.

“Jesus, I’ve got to get my head on straight.”

“Where shall we go?” Stone asked.

“I have no idea,” Dino said.

“I know how you feel. How about P.J. Clarke’s?”

“Right,” Dino said, sounding relieved. “Eight-thirty.”

“You book,” Stone replied. “They don’t hold a table for us at Clarke’s.”

“Not yet,” Dino said, then hung up.