Stone Barrington 06-11

that’s all. There’s nothing for him to worry about.”
    “He doesn’t like this, Stone. I think he might bolt.”
    “Brandy, there’s a thousand bucks in it for you if you can see that he shows up for that hearing.”
    “What am I going to tell him?”
    “Tell him nobody’s going to put him in jail; tell him anything you like, just have him there. Lead him by the hand.”
    “Okay, I’ll do it for the grand. What are you going to give him?”
    “I’ve already told him that I can’t pay him to testify.”
    “I could give him a couple hundred, though?”
    “Sorry, I didn’t hear that; must be trouble on the line. Have him there, Brandy.”
    “You got it.”

    Stone sat in Marc Blumberg’s office.
    “I don’t like this much,” Marc was saying.
    “What’s the difference who he’s testifying for? We know what he’s going to say.”
    “Do we?”
    “I think so. It might be more effective to let the D.A. get his story into the record, then bring out our points on cross.”
    “Okay, I buy that. Now, let’s get started.”
    They worked through lunch, and at midafternoon, Dino called.
    “Hi.”
    “Hi. I’ve got an appointment.”
    “When?”
    “As soon as I can get there.”
    “Thanks, Dino.”
    “Dinner?”
    “Meet me at the studio at seven.”
    “See you then.”
    Stone hung up and turned to Marc. “Are we about done? There’s somewhere I have to be.”
    “Go ahead; I’ll see you at the courthouse tomorrow morning.”
    Stone looked up Drake’s address in the phone book.

    “My name is Bacchetti,” Stone said to the receptionist.
    “Oh, yes, Mr. Bacchetti,” she replied. “Will you wait in examination room B, down the hall? And undress down to your shorts.”
    Stone found the room, which contained an examination table, a sink, and a cabinet for supplies. He did not undress; he sat down in the only chair and waited. A couple of minutes later, Dr. Lansing Drake entered the room, preoccupied with a clipboard in his hand.
    “Mr. Bacchetti,” he said, not looking up. “Just a moment, please.” He went to the sink, washed his hands, then turned around. “Now, what seems to be …” His jaw dropped.
    “I’m Stone Barrington, Dr. Drake; we met recently at Lou Regenstein’s.”
    “I don’t understand,” Drake said nervously, looking toward the exit.
    Stone got up and leaned on the door. “I won’t keep you long, Doctor. My name will be familiar to you, because a while back, you submitted a sample of my blood, along with one from Vance Calder, to a company called Hemolab, for a paternity test.”
    “I don’t recall,” the doctor replied.
    “Oh, I think you do,” Stone said.
    “Vance Calder was my patient,” Drake said. “I have to respect his confidence.”
    “Vance is dead, Doctor, and now you have to deal with me. You can do it here, quietly, or you can do it in court. What’s it going to be?”
    Drake sagged against the examination table. “If Arrington should learn of this conversation …”
    “I don’t think that will be necessary. What I want to know, quite simply, is if the tests were run again by another laboratory, would the results be the same?”
    Drake gazed out the window. “I honestly don’t know.”
    “Do you deny altering the test results?”
    Drake looked back at him. “I most certainly do.” He looked away again. “That is, I don’t know if the results were tampered with.”
    “And why don’t you know?”
    Drake sighed. “Vance came to me and said it was essential that the test prove that he was the father of the child. I conveyed that to someone at Hemolab.”
    “So I’m the child’s father?”
    “I said I don’t know. I simply made Vance’s wishes known. For all I know, he was the father. I suppose it could have gone either way, or there would have been no need for the test.”
    “Yes,” Stone said, “it could have gone either way. I want to see the original test results.”
    “I’m afraid that will be impossible. At Vance’s request, once the report was issued, the blood samples and the records were destroyed. The lab never knew who he was; the two subjects were simply labeled A and B.”
    “Then you knew when you saw the results.”
    “No, I didn’t. I didn’t care, really. I wrote a letter saying that Vance was the father, that’s all. I don’t know if he was or not.”
    “So, the test was just to have something to show Arrington?”
    “I suppose. But if you ever tell her that, I’ll deny even speaking to