Lucid Intervals (2010)

sat back.
    “Where’s the funeral?” Stone asked.
    “At a cemetery in Queens,” Herbie said. “My driver knows the way.”
    “So it’s just a burial, not a funeral?”
    “What’s the difference?” Herbie asked.
    “A funeral usually takes place in a church, a synagogue or a funeral home chapel,” Stone said. “A burial takes place in a cemetery.”
    “Oh,” Herbie said. “The only funeral I ever went to was my mother’s, and that was in a cemetery.”
    Dino poured himself another drink. “Whatever,” he said.
     
     
     
    THE BIG CAR drove through the gates of the cemetery, which turned out to be the one that can be seen from the Long Island Expressway, an incredibly crowded forest of stone.
    “How did you get Sheila a plot here?” Stone asked. “I didn’t think there could possibly be any room here.”
    “My mother bought it forty years ago,” Herbie said. “Sheila doesn’t have any family, and I didn’t think the plot ought to go to waste.”
    The car stopped, and the three of them got out. Herbie led the way, and Stone and Dino followed.
    Stone tugged at Dino’s sleeve. “How the hell did Herbie get you to do this?” he asked.
    “He paid me,” Dino replied.
    “Paid you? How much?”
    “That is an indecorous question, under the circumstances,” Dino replied. “A woman is dead.”
    “I feel as though I’m in some bizarre dream,” Stone said. “Is this really happening?”
    “Seems to be,” Dino replied.
    The coffin was perched over the open grave, and a man wearing a black robe stood by it, along with another, shorter man in a black suit. Herbie spoke quietly with the robed man and handed him an envelope.
    “Shall we begin?” the robed man asked.
    “Just a minute,” Herbie said, looking back toward the road.
    Three men in suits were coming their way, looking uncomfortable.
    Stone whispered to Dino. “At least one of them is packing,” he said.
    “All three of them are,” Dino replied, “but so am I.”
    The three men walked around to the other side of the coffin, all three glaring at Herbie.
    The robed man began to speak in Hebrew.
    Stone and Dino watched the three men, who continued to glare at Herbie. Dino took his badge out and hung it in the breast pocket of his suit. The three men looked even more uncomfortable but stopped glaring.
    Stone had a sudden urge to burst out laughing but controlled himself.
    The robed man stopped speaking, stepped back and nodded at the other man, who was apparently the funeral director. The shorter man reached down to the frame supporting the coffin and did something, and the coffin began to lower into the grave. Herbie picked up a little dirt from the pile beside the grave and tossed it onto the descending coffin, then the three men did the same.
    “God bless you all,” the robed man said, then turned and began walking back toward the road followed by the three men.
    Stone, Dino and Herbie gave them a head start, then followed. They got into the Maybach, the robed man tossed his robe into a Toyota and got in, and the three men got into a Cadillac. They all left.
    “Who were the three men?” Stone asked.
    “The tall guy was her pimp,” Herbie replied. “The other two used to be my bookie and my loan shark.”
    “And who was the guy in the robe?”
    “He used to be a rabbi,” Herbie said, “but something happened, I’m not sure what. The funeral guy found him. I think Sheila was Jewish.”
    “That was thoughtful of you, Herbie,” Stone said. “I thought the three guys were going to start shooting at one point, but Dino stopped them with his badge. Nice move, Dino.”
    “It was better than getting shot,” Dino replied.

    WHEN STONE GOT home, a small package had been delivered for him. Inside was a small black box and a note from Jim Hackett:
    Directions: Go to your master extension—the one that your office phone system is programmed from—unplug your telephone, plug the wire into the box, then plug the wire from the box into the telephone. This will cause all your telephone extensions to be encrypted when you are called from another encrypted phone. Talk to you soon.
    Stone did as instructed.

48
    F elicity called late in the afternoon. “Can we meet for dinner somewhere different? I’m gaining weight.”
    “How about Café des Artistes?” Stone suggested.
    “Fine. Eight o’clock? I’ll be working until then.”
    “Good.” Stone hung up and asked Joan to book the table.
     
     
     
    FELICITY ARRIVED WITH