Barely Legal

91

Herbie spotted Dino’s man as he was getting onto the subway. He’d tried to get a taxi, but it was rush hour, so there were no cabs to be had, so he’d walked down to City Hall to catch the Lexington Avenue express.

Herbie spotted him getting onto the car. At first he thought he was one of Taperelli’s men. Or, rather, one of Detective Kelly’s men. Herbie could tell from the man’s unmistakable bearing that he was a cop — he just didn’t know if he was a good cop or a bad cop. He was an undercover cop, perhaps out of Kelly’s stable.

The guy wasn’t a bad tail. Herbie only spotted him because he couldn’t get on the car until Herbie did, and in the rush-hour crunch, there was no room and the conductor was trying to close the door on him. The loudspeaker was squawking, “There’s a train right behind us! Let the doors go!” in a distorted, tinny voice. Then he noticed a man trying to get onto the car at all costs, and it dawned on him he was a cop.

The cop followed Herbie all the way back to his apartment. Herbie noticed him a few times, but only because he’d already spotted him in the subway car. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have had a clue.

Herbie went into the bar, poured himself a shot of Knob Creek, tossed it off, and collapsed on the couch in a heap.

All right, what the hell did he do now?

The cop was a problem. Taking on Taperelli’s men alone wouldn’t be easy, and the cop added an unnecessary complication. If the cop followed him to the hideout in Queens, he’d come crashing in as soon as he realized what was going on. But he’d be too little too late. Herbie’d probably be dead by the time he reached the door.

Herbie’s cell phone rang. He pulled it out, checked caller ID.

He groaned. It was Mario Payday.

He’d forgotten all about Mario Payday. The guy wanted ninety thousand bucks or he’d kill him. Well, he’d just have to wait in line. Herbie sent the call to voice mail. He wondered if Mario would leave a message or if such tactics were beneath him.

Herbie considered calling Joshua Hook at Strategic Defenses. He should have taken him up on his offer to help. Was it too late now? Josh could be here in, what, an hour and forty-five minutes? But what would he be? Just another person to pique the interest of the police escort. If Dino heard Josh was here, he’d throw every cop in the area in the mix.

Herbie’s phone beeped.

Mario Payday had finished leaving his voice mail message. Herbie clicked it on and played it back.

“Mr. Fisher, this is Carlo, Mario Payday’s assistant. I’m calling because Mario does not like to make this sort of call himself. Which I quite understand. I’m calling because you have not paid Mario yet. Which I don’t understand. A man such as you should have the wherewithal and the perspicacity — don’t ask me, Mario told me to use the word — to discharge the debt before it becomes an issue. If you do not discharge it this evening, Mr. Fisher, Mario will be forced to cut his losses and make an example out of you, as a lesson to other debtors who might come to think that a financial obligation is something to be taken lightly.

“Mario will be sad to lose you. He finds you amusing.”

Herbie slipped the phone back in his pocket.