Strategic Moves

THIRTY-EIGHT

Stone excused himself, let himself into Dick Stone’s secure office, and called Lance Cabot’s cell number.

“Yes, Stone? And why are you in Maine again on such a cold weekend?”

Stone ignored the question. “Why does the Manhattan district attorney believe that Pablo’s questioning is going to result in numerous prosecutions for him and that Pablo will be testifying?”

Lance sighed. “I happened to have dinner with him at Peter Luger’s in Brooklyn the evening before last. I’m afraid he may have overestimated his potential involvement in the results of Pablo’s testimony.”

“Were you drunk?” Stone asked.

“Now, Stone, don’t make too much of this, please.”

“Too much of it? Apparently, details of my client’s cooperation are abroad in the land. Surely you’re aware that that sort of information could endanger his life and those of his family?”

“Nonsense. Pablo has nothing to fear.”

“Well, let’s take a hypothetical example: Pablo tells you, on tape, that he sold X arms to X person on X date, and someone in the DA’s office lets that slip to an acquaintance of X. What do you think X’s reaction will be?”

“You have a hypothetical point, Stone, but don’t stretch it. It won’t happen that way.”

“Lance, I give you notice now: if you ask Pablo a question the answer to which might put his life in jeopardy, I will instruct him not to answer.”

“Stone, I’m sure our four days together will go very smoothly, and I’ll do everything I can to protect Pablo’s health and happiness during the proceedings.”

“Thanks, Lance. I’m going to hold you to that, and afterwards, too.” Stone hung up and returned to Willa.

“Problem?” she asked.

“Not anymore,” he replied, hoping it was true.

They had a good dinner and retired early. Willa came to bed wearing only a short, filmy nightgown, and Stone received her wearing only boxer shorts. Shortly, neither was wearing anything.

“You have a reputation to live up to,” Willa said, throwing a leg over and snuggling close, her breasts firmly against his chest.

“Oh, God,” Stone breathed, but he did his best to live up to it.

When they had finished and lay on their backs, letting the ceiling fan cool their sweating bodies, Willa said, “I hope what I said about the DA hasn’t disrupted anything for you.”

“What you said hasn’t,” Stone said, “but what the DA said may, before this is over.”

“He wasn’t supposed to know about your meeting?”

“He was told by a participant who was indiscreet,” Stone said. “I’ll take steps to see that it doesn’t matter.”

“I hope that works out for you,” she said.

“So do I.”

The following morning they took a walk along the snowy shore.

“This place is more fun when we can take out a boat,” Stone said.

“Last night made up for the absence of boats,” Willa replied.

“That’s your fault,” Stone said. “You were irresistible.”

“A girl likes to be irresistible,” she replied.

“Tell me, what brought Herbie Fisher to the attention of someone as lofty as you in the DA’s office?”

“As part of my ADA’s supervision, I read a memo describing her—how shall I put it?—negotiation with you.”

“And?”

“It read more like a capitulation,” Willa replied. “I had a few words with her about that, and next time she encounters a defense lawyer she’ll be a lot tougher.”

“The young woman saved your office the expense of a prosecution that you’d have lost and the resulting embarrassment,” Stone said. “Speaking as an ex-cop who enjoyed putting criminals away, I think she made the right call. So does Dino, you’ll remember.”

“I can’t judge my people by what the cops think of them,” Willa said.

“I should have thought that the cops’ opinion of a prosecution would be a very important factor in judging new ADAs,” Stone said. “It doesn’t take any guts to bring a case to prosecution, if there’s any kind of case at all, but it takes some guts and smarts to look at the evidence and see that it’s not enough for a conviction.”

“Maybe, but a different, more experienced prosecutor might have come to a different conclusion about the evidence.”

“No,” Stone said, “if I had been talking to you instead, you would have come to the same conclusion.”

“And why do you think that?”

“Because in a case like Herbie’s, I’m a better defense attorney than I was a lover last night.”

“You think you’re that good, huh?”

“As an attorney, yes.”

“And if I’d tried the case, you think you could have got an acquittal?”

“I’m sure of it, but the greater skill lies in seeing that a case never comes to trial. Look at it this way: I did your office a favor.”

“You have a high opinion of yourself, don’t you?”

“I’m a good, pragmatic judge of what I can and can’t do,” Stone said. “If you’d had evidence that was conclusive, I’d have been looking to make a plea deal. As it was, I wouldn’t have allowed Herbie to accept any offer you made short of a withdrawal of charges.”

“I’ve probably been involved in a lot more such cases than you have,” she said, “during fifteen years of prosecution, and I’m a good, pragmatic judge of what’s possible in a courtroom.”

“What’s your conviction rate in the cases you’ve brought to trial?” Stone asked.

“Personally?”

“No, of the cases you’ve approved for trial, both yours and your subordinates’?”

“About eighty-five percent,” she replied.

“That’s very good,” Stone said, “but in those of my cases that were tried and I felt should never have gone to trial, my acquittal rate is one hundred percent. Overall, it’s about the same as your conviction rate.”

“Then we’re evenly matched,” she said.

“We are, as long as you don’t bring cases I know you can’t win,” Stone replied. “And I’ll make it my business to see that you never lay a glove on Herbie Fisher.”

“What’s so special about Herbie Fisher?” she asked.

“If you knew him, you’d know how harmless he is.”

“He wasn’t harmless to Dattila the Hun,” she pointed out.

“Like a lot of people,” Stone said, “Herbie will fight like a cornered rat when his back is to the wall. Dattila put him in that position by repeatedly trying to kill him, to Dattila’s cost.”

They turned back toward the house.

“I think I’m going to have to go back to New York this afternoon,” Stone said. “A couple of days ago I was comfortable about my upcoming meeting, but now I’m not, so I need to be there. Can we have dinner in the city tonight?”

“Sure,” she said. “Anyway, I’m not so sure how much more snowy landscape I could have stood.”