Stone Barrington 06-11

it. You’re my first, ah, liaison since then, which is why I was so eager to get you into bed last night. I hope I didn’t put you off with my assertiveness.”
    “Did I seem put off?”
    She laughed. “No, I don’t think you did. You were… very interesting.”
    “And what, exactly, does that mean?”
    “It means exactly that. Don’t worry, it’s a very considerable compliment.”
    They finished their main course and had dessert. When they were served coffee, Stone had entirely forgotten about Herbie Fisher. Then his cell phone vibrated. He looked at his watch: just after eleven o’clock. “Do you mind?” he asked, holding up the phone.
    “Go ahead,” she said.
    Stone opened the phone. “Yes?”
    “It wasn’t my fault!” Herbie said, sounding very agitated.
    “What?”
    “The goddamned skylight must have been old or something.”
    “What the hell happened?” Stone demanded, trying to keep his voice down.
    “It collapsed,” Herbie said. “I fell right on top of both of them.”
    “You fell into…” Stone stopped and looked around. “Where are you?”
    “It’s not my fault the guy’s dead,” Herbie said.

    “He’s what? ”
    “You’ve got to come down here,” Herbie said.
    “Down where?”
    “I’m being arraigned in night court.”
    “Listen to me very carefully,” Stone said. “Don’t say a word to anybody—not to a cop, not to an ADA, not to anybody. Do you understand?”
    “Sure, I understand. Do you think I’m stupid?”
    “I’ll be there inside of an hour, and you keep your mouth shut,” Stone said. He snapped the phone shut.
    “Somebody get a thumb in his eye looking through a keyhole?” Carpenter asked.
    “Something like that,” Stone said, waving for the check.
    “You don’t look so good,” Carpenter said.
    “I’m not so good,” Stone said, feeling as if he might toss his dinner back onto the table. “This is very, very bad.”
    He signed the check, grabbed Carpenter, and headed for the door.
    “Where are we going?” Carpenter asked.
    “I’m going to night court; you’re going home.”
    “Oh, no I’m not. I want to see night court.”
    Stone hustled her into the car. “This may take a while,” he said.
    “I’ve got all night,” she replied.
    “This is very, very bad,” Stone said, half to himself, as the car drove away.

6
    Stone sat in one of the little rooms where attorneys met with their clients. Carpenter was upstairs in the big courtroom, taking in the American way of justice.
    The opposite door to the cubicle opened, and Herbie Fisher walked in. He looked terrible—no belt or shoelaces, his hair mussed, and an expression of terror on his skinny face. He sat down on the stool opposite Stone and grasped the chain-link partition between them.
    “You gotta get me out of here,” he said, tears in his eyes.
    “Take it easy, Herbie,” Stone said. “Nobody’s going to kill you.”
    “You haven’t seen the guys I’m sharing a cell with,” Herbie replied. “Now you gotta get me out of here.”
    “Herbie, do you remember the little chat we had yesterday?” Stone asked. “The one where I told you that if you fucked up, you were on your own?”
    “It wasn’t my fault!” Herbie cried.

    “Keep your voice down. Now I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”
    “Get me out of here first,” Herbie said. “Then I’ll tell you.”
    “Herbie, unless you tell me what happened and tell me right now, I’m going to walk out of here and let you rot in jail.”
    “You can’t do that! You gotta get me out! I can’t be in jail.”
    “Herbie, listen to me very carefully,” Stone said. “Take a few deep breaths and calm down.”
    Herbie sucked air.
    “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen.”
    Herbie appeared to be a little calmer.
    “Sometime tonight, you’re going to be arraigned in night court. The charges could include manslaughter or negligent homicide, breaking and entering, and attempted burglary. Do you understand?”
    “But I didn’t kill anybody!” Herbie cried. “You gotta get me out of here!”
    “Shut up and listen. At the arraignment, a lawyer will represent you, and you’ll plead not guilty to all charges. Then bail will be set, and you’ll get out. You’ll be having breakfast at home.”
    “You’re going to represent me?” Herbie asked plaintively.
    “No, another lawyer will. You are not to mention my name to him or anyone else. Do you understand?
    “Yeah.”
    “Now I want you to tell me