Stone Barrington 06-11

ringing. Hello, may I speak with Harry Crisp, please? Tell him it’s Holly Barker calling.” She nodded at Stone and waited.
    “Hello, Harry? Can you hear me okay?. . . Why, Harry, that’s not a very nice thing to say. And I was trying to be helpful… . How? Well, I’ve been feeling badly about your getting transferred to the Pacific Rim, and I thought I might be helpful in getting you back to the States… . Well, I don’t know for sure if I can do that, but I can certainly put in a word with Deputy Director Barron, the guy who shipped you out there… . Well, of course there’s a tit for tat, Harry. Did you think you’d get my help for free? Actually, it’s a very easy one for you. All I want is the name the Bureau gave Trini Rodriguez in the Witness Protection Program… . Yes, Harry, I’m aware that that’s highly confidential,” Holly continued, “but when you weigh a slight breach of confidentiality against a ticket home, well… Look, Harry, you’re the guy who put him into the Program. You don’t even have to tap a few computer keys; the name is right there, lodged in your frontal lobe. They haven’t lobotomized you, have they, Harry? . . . Now, how could this possibly get you in trouble? Nobody will know except me. I just want to look up Trini and say hello. He’s of no further use to you, not that he ever was. You were just trying to keep me from arresting and trying him in my jurisdiction.
    “Come on, Harry, cough it up. Look, I can’t specify a new assignment for you, but honestly, wouldn’t anywhere be better? . . . I didn’t even know you had an office in Alaska. Would you like me to request Nome for you? Only joking, Harry. Now give me the name and you won’t hear from me again. And if you don’t give me the name, you might never hear from anybody again.” Holly listened and jotted something on her napkin. “Thank you so much, Harry. I’ll give Deputy Director Barron a call tomorrow, first thing. No, it’s dinnertime here, Harry. Bye-bye.”
    She hung up and held up the napkin for Stone and Dino to see.
    “Robert Marshall,” Stone read aloud.
    Dino took Holly’s hand. “Holly, would you like to come work for the NYPD as liaison with the Feds?”

8
    H OLLY GOT UP and went to the ladies’ room, leaving Stone and Dino alone.
    “So, how’s it going?” Dino asked.
    “Well, I stepped in a steaming pile of shit today.”
    “What else is new? What is it this time?”
    “Remember Lance Cabot?”
    “The rogue ex-CIA guy in London?”
    “Yes, but it turns out he’s not a rogue, just CIA. The rogue was Hedger, the guy who hired me. Lance is in New York and he turned up at my office today and asked me to represent a guy who’s been doing some contract work for them. Apparently, he’s had a DUI and a couple of other things, and the Agency wants his mess cleaned up. I didn’t want to do it, but he offered me seven-fifty an hour, and he sent around a brown envelope stuffed with twenty-five thousand in crisp, new hundred-dollar bills.”
    “That doesn’t sound so shitty. What’s the problem?”
    “The guy I’m representing is Herbie Fisher.”

    “That schmuck that we had to hunt down in the Virgin Islands?”
    “One and the same.”
    “Are you out of your fucking mind? There isn’t enough money to make dealing with that guy worth it.”
    “Well, yes, but I agreed to represent him before he told me the name. We shook hands on it.”
    “Well, unshake his fucking hand.”
    “I gave him my word.”
    “Stone, Lance Cabot and the people he works for would screw you in the blink of an eye, if it was worth their while, and maybe just for the fun of it.”
    “Actually, my dealings with Lance have been, if not exactly straightforward, then conducted in an honorable manner.”
    “Stone, this is the guy who hustled you into putting up a quarter of a million dollars to finance a theft from the British government, then disappeared into thin air.”
    “I got my money back, remember?”
    “Yeah, but he promised you a million-dollar profit, too. Whatever happened to that?”
    “It’s in my brokerage account, less taxes.”
    Dino stared at him, stupefied.
    “No kidding.”
    “You never told me that.”
    “Where is it written that I have to tell you everything?”
    “Where is it written that I can’t put a gun to your head and pull the trigger? You’d fucking well better tell me everything. I was involved, remember?”
    “As I recall, your involvement was pretty