Black Dog

Thirty-Four

Stone and Dino, after the departure of Eddie Jr., settled into their evening, enjoying their steaks and wine, and topping it all off with snifters of cognac.

“I can’t tell you how relaxing it is to be rid of Junior,” Stone said.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen you this loose since he came into the picture. Maybe he’s found a home at the Y,” Dino suggested.

“God, I hope so.”

Dino’s phone rang, and he glanced at it. “I have to take this,” he said. “I left instructions.” He punched the button. “Bacchetti. Yeah? Yeah, that’s right. Hang on.” He covered his phone. “Eddie got into a fight with two other guys at the Y. Something about a blanket. They’re holding him at the precinct. What do you want to do?”

Stone sighed. “Nothing. I want to do nothing.”

“You want to just leave him there for the night?”

“How much will it cost to have them keep him forever?”

“He’ll see a judge in the morning and probably get kicked into the street.”

“Perfect,” Stone said. “Let’s let him live with the consequences of his actions.”

“And it was all going so well,” Dino said.

“It’s still going well,” Stone replied. “He can’t get at me from jail, and he’s already used his phone call. At least, he’s going right past me now and straight to the top, which is you.”

“I put out a call to be notified if he got arrested anywhere.”

Stone’s phone rang. “Yes?”

“It’s Joan. I just got a message from Eddie. He’s in jail. And having already used his phone call, presumably to call you, he got his cellmate to call me, and he told me to call you.”

“That’s all terribly interesting, Joan, but nothing to do with me — or, for that matter, you.”

“So, I should just ignore the call?”

“That’s what I would do.”

“Then I’m going back to bed. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Stone hung up. “He got somebody to call Joan.”

“He’s like that bunny on TV,” Dino said. “He just keeps on going.”

Stone’s phone rang, and he looked at the caller ID. “Call from somebody I never heard of.”

“You know what that’s about, don’t you? Just shut down your phone until tomorrow morning.”

“Good idea.”

“Lawyers don’t get calls in the middle of the night like cops and doctors.”

“Actually...” Stone switched his phone back on. “We do sometimes. And those calls can be lucrative when they come in the middle of the night.”

Stone got home after midnight, only slightly the worse for wear, and the office line was ringing. “Hello?”

“Is this the Barrington law firm?”

“It is.”

“This is Sergeant Nolan at the precinct. I got an Edwin Charles Jr., says he’s your client.”

“Hmmm, let’s see,” Stone said. “Nope, he’s not ours. Give him to a public defender.”

“He won’t take a PD.”

“Then give him a cell. Put him in the tank with all the thieves and junkies.”

“Whatever you say.” He hung up, and Stone went to bed. Then, in the wee hours, his phone rang again. This one would be from night court, he knew. He picked up the phone. “Wrong number,” he said, and hung up.

He remained at peace until Joan got in and rang him at his desk the following morning.

“Morning,” she said cheerfully. “How many calls did you get last night either from or about Eddie?”

“Including this one? Eighteen — no, nineteen.”

“It makes me sorry his parents showed him how to use a phone,” she said.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Oh, the reason I called is that there was a call from Bridget on the machine.” She gave him the number.

“Thank you.” He called Bridget. “I’m sorry, I just got your message,” he said. “When did you get in?”

“Around two,” she said. “The phone was ringing, and I thought it was you, so I answered.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“No, it was the bailiff at night court. Eddie Jr. told them I was his lawyer, so I had to go down there and make bail for him.”

“Oh God, how much?”

“Only five hundred. I had that in my ready bag.”

“Where is the schmuck?”

“Out wandering the streets, I guess.”

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry about that. Tell you what, I’ll buy you a great dinner this evening.”

“Deal.”

“My house at six-thirty?”

“Done.” She hung up.