Stone opened the door and got into the cab, and as he did, someone pushed him across the seat and got in behind him. Stone drew back his right arm, ready to smash an elbow into his assailant’s face.
“Hey, Stone, don’t hit me!” a plaintive voice yelled.
Stone looked over his elbow. “Herbie, where the hell have you been?”
“Don’t yell at me, Stone.”
The driver piped up. “Where to?”
Stone gave him his address. “I’m not yelling,” he said to Herbie. “Now why did you bail out of your deposition?”
“It was those two guys, Stone; they were after me.”
“Did they drag you out of the building?”
“Well, no, not exactly.”
“You left of your own accord, then?”
“Kind of. But they followed me out, and I had to outrun them again.”
“Herbie, if you hadn’t left, they wouldn’t have followed you out.”
“Well, maybe. I was just uncomfortable with them sitting out there, so I hit the elevator.”
“And where have you been since then?”
“Around.”
“And why didn’t you call me?”
“I was embarrassed.”
“I didn’t know that was possible,” Stone said.
“Huh?”
“What do you want, Herbie?”
“I need some money.”
“What for?”
“I’ve gotta get a room somewhere, and I’m broke. I don’t even have subway money. I was waiting for you outside Elaine’s, but when I saw the cops come, I ran.”
“Why? Are the cops looking for you?”
“No. It was just instinct, I guess.”
“Are you dropping the lawsuit?” Stone prayed for a yes.
“Oh, no, I still want to sue the bastard. Can we reschedule the deposition?”
“That won’t be necessary. Luckily for you, Dattila’s lawyer decided not to depose you. I guess his client had already told him what to expect. We’ll get a trial date soon.”
“Great! I’m looking forward to the trial!”
“I can’t imagine why,” Stone replied.
“Because I want to see Dattila squirm.”
“Dattila doesn’t squirm,” Stone said, “and certainly not from anything you could say to him.”
“Just wait till I get on the stand.”
“It’s your word against his, Herbie. That is, unless there’s a videotape of Dattila telling his goons to kill you slow.”
Herbie reached into his inside coat pocket, pulled out a small dictating machine and pressed a button. There was what sounded like a chair scraping across the floor, then a male voice. “What do we do with him, Mr. Dattila?”
“Kill him slow,” Dattila replied.
Stone snatched the dictator from Herbie’s hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you had this?”
“I was going to spring it in my deposition and make Dattila shit in his pants.”
“I don’t think that would have been Dattila’s response,” Stone said, “but his lawyer might have done that. Herbie, I almost hate to say this, but the recording might actually give us a chance of winning this thing.”
Herbie beamed. “I thought so.”
“And if you’d given it to me immediately, instead of playing games, we might have already settled your suit.”
“I don’t want it settled, I want to win it.”
“Is that what they taught you at your Internet law school, Herbie? Never settle? Settling is a good thing, Herbie; you get money, maybe an apology, and Dattila doesn’t put a contract out on you, if you’re lucky. Hasn’t it ever crossed your mind that, even if you do win the suit and get a judgment, and humiliate Dattila in open court, that you’ll have a target on your back for the rest of your days? Or the rest of Dattila’s days, whichever comes first.”
Herbie looked sober for a moment. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said.
“It’s time for some thinking, Herbie. Listen, can you get back into your apartment without anyone seeing you?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Well, then, go home, let yourself in, don’t turn on any lights or the TV, and don’t make any noise, and don’t answer the phone unless it rings once, then stops, then rings again a minute later. If it does that, it will be me.”
Herbie muttered these instructions to himself. “But what am I gonna eat?”
Stone pressed some bills into his hand. “Whatever you do, don’t order in. Stop at a deli and pick up enough groceries for a few days.”
“Okay.”
“And, Herbie, draw all the curtains. Don’t even let the light in the refrigerator be seen.”
“Okay.”
“And don’t leave the apartment, except late at night, and only then to get more food.”
“You said I can’t run the TV?”
“No, you can’t.”
“Well, what am I gonna do?”
“All right, you can run the TV in the daytime, but not at night. They’ll see the flickering light.”
“Okay.”
The cab stopped at Stone’s corner. “Herbie,” Stone said, “please don’t get yourself killed. At least, not yet.”
“Okay,” Herbie said.
Stone got out of the cab and watched Herbie disappear into the night.