Strategic Moves

FORTY-FIVE

Stone went downstairs to his office and flopped onto the sofa, drained. He was grateful that the marathon questioning of Pablo was over, and he doubted if he would hear from the man again. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

There was a rap on the door, followed by a familiar voice.

“Hey, Stone.”

Stone didn’t open his eyes. “Not now, Herbie, please.”

“I think you’re going to want to know this, Stone.”

“All right,” Stone said with a whimper, “tell me.”

“The DA is investigating me.”

Stone opened his eyes. “What?”

“No kidding. An investigator with the DA’s office has been questioning my doorman about my comings and goings.”

“Do you have any idea why they’re interested in your comings and goings, Herbie?”

“No, and I don’t understand it.”

“Herbie, without giving me any details, have you been involved in anything that might even remotely resemble an illegal activity?”

“No, Stone,” Herbie replied, sounding wounded. “I’m just living my life, that’s all.”

“Herbie, I’m going to tell you a secret that will transform your life, if you will only believe it.”

“What’s that, Stone?”

“If you’re an honest man, you don’t have to worry about being investigated. The DA can’t find anything incriminating about you if you haven’t done anything incriminating. Does that make any kind of sense to you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess.”

“Do you believe what I just said?”

“Well, it’s logical.”

“No, Herbie, you have to believe in your heart that you are innocent, and then you will feel better. Work on that.”

“Okay,” Herbie said. “See you later.”

“Please, God, no,” Stone whispered to himself, closing his eyes again.

There was another rap on his office door. “Stone?”

“What is it, Joan?”

“One of those technicians from upstairs wants to do something to our telephones.”

Stone thought about that for a moment. “Send him in, please.” He tucked a pillow under his head and waited.

A man wearing a tool belt came in. “Mr. Barrington, I need to take a look at your office phones.”

“Are you going to remove the bugs?”

“Well, sir, without acknowledging that there are any bugs on your phones, I would like to take a look at them. Only take a minute.”

“All right, go ahead,” Stone said.

The man went to Stone’s desk and used a screwdriver to take the plastic top off the phone. There was a snipping sound, then he put the phone back together and repeated the process with the phone on the coffee table.

“Don’t forget the secretary’s phone,” Stone said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you do all the ones upstairs?”

“Yes, sir, all the way to the top of the house. The kitchen, too.”

“Thank you.”

The man went away, and Stone closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. The phone rang, and Joan came on the intercom. “A Willa Crane for you.”

Stone picked up the phone. “Good afternoon, Willa.”

“You sound tired,” she said.

“I’ve just finished a four-day, ah, deposition,” Stone replied.

“Oh, the one with the CIA?”

“I will not confirm or deny that.”

“I will consider it confirmed, then.”

“I’m afraid your boss is not going to make any cases from what transpired—unless he has extended his jurisdiction to Europe and the Middle East.”

“He will be very disappointed to hear that,” she said.

“In that case, you shouldn’t tell him, but let Lance Cabot explain.”

“Good idea. You free for dinner?”

“Sure. I should have recovered my health by then.”

“Can we go to Elaine’s?”

“Oh, you liked it there, did you?”

“It wasn’t bad; I enjoyed the crowd.”

“Okay, eight-thirty at Elaine’s?”

“See you there,” she said, and hung up.

Stone closed his eyes and lay back. After what seemed only a moment later Joan spoke. “It’s six-thirty; I’m leaving.”

Stone opened his eyes. “Six-thirty? You’re kidding.”

“You’ve been out like a light.”

Stone struggled to a sitting position. “I certainly have.”

“A cold shower will bring you around.”

“Brrrr,” Stone said.