New York Dead

over, and he reckons you’ll finish in the top third, and, since the New York State bar is the toughest in the country, that’s damn good. It’s not official, of course, but you’ve got nothing to worry about.” “Bill, this friend of a friend didn’t… improve my score, did he?”
    Eggers looked shocked. “Absolutely not. There’s been no tampering here, you don’t need to worry about that. I told you, we’re an ethical firm. Information was all we were after, and that’s all we got; no law was broken; we don’t do that.” “Well, in that case, thanks. It’s a load off my mind.”
    “Anyway, as I was saying, we want you to be at our disposal. Of course, you can’t actually practice law until your admittance to the bar is official, but you can advise and investigate. In a trial, you can sit at the defense table and whisper into our man’s ear. Then, when you’re admitted, you can accept cases of your own. We just want priority.” “On what basis?”
    “When we hire a freshly admitted associate, the current starting salary is fifty-five thousand. We propose to offer you a retainer of seventy-five thousand dollars annually, against an hourly rate of a hundred and twenty-five dollars.” “What’s your hourly rate, Bill?”
    “Two fifty to three fifty, depending, but I’ve been with the firm for twelve years and a partner for eight. Don’t misunderstand me, Stone, it’s not our intention to keep you at arm’s length forever. We’re feeling our way, here, with a new kind of association for us. If this works out the way I hope it will, then you would eventually join the firm, and, sometime in the future, a partnership might come into the picture.” “Would you care to be a little more specific about ‘eventually’ and ‘sometime in the future’?”
    “No. I can’t be. This is simply too new a situation for us. But I’ll tell you what I tell our new associates: there are no guarantees, but if you work your ass off for the firm, if you show you can bring in business of your own, and if you can make our clients trust you, then a partnership is almost inevitable. That’s what they told me when I joined, and it was true. Of course, under the terms we’re offering you, any new business you bring in will be yours entirely. Then, if and when you join us, you bring your clients with you.” Stone leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Bill, I accept. I’m delighted to accept. And, I’ll tell you the truth, this could not have come along at a better time.”
    Eggers leaned forward. “A cash pinch?”
    Stone told him about the situation with the house and his bankers.
    Eggers took out a pad and made some notes. “You’re being badly treated, and I think we can correct that. May I represent you in this matter?”
    “Of course.”
    “Good. I’ll get you an advance against your first quarter’s retainer, too.”
    “Thank you, Bill; that would certainly take the pressure off.”
    Eggers stuck out a hand. “Welcome aboard.”
    Stone shook it. “When do I start to work?”
    “Tomorrow. We’ve got a couple of things in-house you can look at and advise on. And I think I’ll have an investigative job for you soon.”

    Stone walked home, not even noticing the light rain. He was employed. He wouldn’t have to sell the house. The thought of marriage — suppressed because of his financial condition — broke through into his frontal lobe. He flashed ahead five years: he was a partner at Woodman & Weld; the house was beautiful, and it was his; he and Cary were throwing elegant dinner parties in his elegant dining room; maybe there was a child. Maybe two. Things were suddenly falling into place.
    A miracle had occurred. He didn’t pause to wonder what it might cost him.

Chapter
33

    When Stone got home, Dino was standing on the front stoop, back against the door, trying to stay out of the rain.
    “Hi, Dino,” Stone said.
    “Hi, Can I buy you a drink?”
    “Come on in, let me buy you one.”
    “Nah, I hate the smell of paint and sawdust. Let’s go someplace.”
    “All right.”
    They walked silently up Third Avenue to P. J. Clarke’s and leaned on the corner of the bar.
    “The usual?”
    “Fine.”
    “A Wild Turkey and a Stoly, both rocks,” Dino said to the barman. “Make em doubles.”
    They both looked idly around until the drinks came.
    Dino held up his glass. “Better days.”
    Stone nodded and drank.
    Dino gulped a quarter of the vodka. “I feel bad about what