Stone walked into Elaine’s and sat down. Dino was already there with his usual Scotch, and Stone’s Knob Creek arrived immediately.
“You look like you had a good day,” Dino said.
“Why do you say that?” Stone asked, sipping the bourbon.
“Well, you have a smile plastered on your face, and you don’t seem to be able to make it go away.”
“Dino, nothing could make it go away.”
“All right, tell me.”
“Well, first of all, the lovely Celia and I had a very good evening together, which lasted until after breakfast.”
Dino sighed. “I don’t suppose you’ll give me details.”
“A gentleman doesn’t tell.”
“What else?”
“Second, Herbie Fisher has disappeared.”
“That is good news.”
“It gets better: He may be dead.”
“Carmine Dattila?”
“The primary suspect. Herbie hasn’t shown or called Bob Cantor for three days, and his apartment has been ransacked.”
“Didn’t you say that Herbie owes Carmine’s bookie twenty-four grand?”
“And counting.”
“Well, it doesn’t make sense that Carmine would off him; he’ll never get his money that way.”
“Maybe he’s mad enough, what with the lawsuit, that he just wants Herbie to go away. God knows, I can sympathize.”
Dino shook his head. “Guys like Carmine don’t kill money. He would be more likely to get the money, then kill Herbie. Maybe that’s what he’s doing right now, torturing Herbie in a cellar somewhere, trying to get the money out of him.”
“Well, I would certainly not want Herbie or anybody else to be tortured, even if he did bring it on himself by betting with bookies, failing to pay, then suing Carmine.”
“But you don’t mind if Carmine offs him?”
“I’d off him myself, if I thought I could get away with it.”
“Well, the thought of Herbie dead isn’t enough to make you this happy. What else?”
Stone fished an envelope out of his pocket. “Read this,” he said. “Bernie Finger is going to be served with it tomorrow morning, but I thought you’d enjoy seeing it first.”
Dino opened the envelope and read the complaint. “Holy shit!” he said. “Bernie Finger’s wife has hired you?”
“Can you believe the luck?”
“I saw the pictures in the Post today,” Dino said. “I thought Bob Cantor’s fingerprints were all over them.”
“You think so?”
“I think more than that. I think you put Bob up to it.”
“I would never cop to that,” Stone said.
“Well, it is a little extreme for you, but there was that thing that Bernie said on Page Six about your lunch at the Four Seasons.”
“The guy offers me what amounts to a bribe to settle Herbie’s case, leaves in a huff when I call him on it, then lies about it to the Post. That kind of thing could hurt a lawyer’s reputation. In fact, that was his intention. Apiece like that in the papers could cost me a lot of business.”
“I guess he was trying to tell you not to fuck with him and his client.”
“Exactly. You know how reluctant I was to get involved in this suit, but now I’m going to nail Dattila to the wall.”
“And screw Bernie Finger at the same time?”
“Well, a little.”
“Handling his wife’s divorce isn’t going to make him happy.”
“Listen, God sent me that case. You know how Bernice Finger chose me? She heard Bernie cursing me in his sleep. How about that for a recommendation!”
Dino laughed. “That’s good; that’s really good.”
Stone looked at the front door. “No,” he said, nodding toward the door, “that’s good.”
Dino swiveled his head in time to see Bernard Finger and Marilyn the Masseuse being led to a table up front.
Stone grabbed the complaint from Dino’s fingers and stuffed it back into the envelope. “I’ll be right back,” he said, rising.
He walked toward the front of the restaurant. Finger didn’t see him coming, but Marilyn did, and her face fell. Finger turned around to look for the problem and found it immediately.
“Oh, hi, Stone,” he said. “I was going to call you in the morning to set up depositions in your case against Carmine Dattila. Why don’t we do Mr. Dattila and Mr. Fisher back to back in my office, day after tomorrow at two?”
“I’d be very happy to depose Mr. Dattila, Bernie,” Stone said, “but as you probably know, my client is momentarily indisposed.”
“Well, in that case, I guess we’ll just have to postpone depositions until Mr. Fisher is feeling more disposed,” Finger said, smirking.
“I hope, for your sake, that Mr. Fisher is found alive and well,” Stone said, “because if he isn’t, you’re going to be reading a lot about him and his lawsuit in the papers, and Dattila doesn’t like seeing his name in the papers, does he?”
“You’ve got no case, Stone,” Finger said. “Learn to live with it. It’s sad, I know, since that’s probably the only work you’ve got at the moment.”
“No, Bernie, it isn’t my only case,” Stone said, taking the envelope from his pocket. “I have a brand-new one.” He laid the document on the table.
Finger removed the document from the envelope, and as soon as he read the first sentence his face fell.
“You’ve been served, Bernie. Call me tomorrow, and we’ll arrange a settlement conference.” Stone sauntered back to his own table and sat down, pointedly not looking in Finger’s direction.
“You served him?” Dino asked.
“I did. What’s he doing?”
“He’s still reading, and he doesn’t look happy. Now he’s turning to Marilyn and saying something, and she’s wearing a huge smile and kissing him.”
“Well, I’m sorry to make Marilyn so happy, but if that’s the price of making Bernie unhappy, then so be it.”
“Uh-oh, here comes Bernie.”
Stone looked up to see Finger approaching, clutching the complaint.
“Can we meet tomorrow morning in my office at eleven?” Bernie asked, his face expressionless.
“Perfect, Bernie.”
“I’ll make short work of this.”
“That will be easy, if you accept Bernice’s terms. And Bernie,” Stone said, “remember: A lawyer who represents himself has a fool for a client, so bring somebody. Oh, and congratulations to you and Marilyn on your engagement. I wish you every happiness.”
Finger turned around and stalked back to his table.
Stone waved for another round of drinks, and when they came he raised his glass to Dino. “You know, yesterday I was having trouble paying the bills, but today I’ve got a hundred grand of Bernie Finger’s money in the bank, and when I’m through with him, he’ll never know what hit him.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Dino said, raising his own glass.