Stone Barrington 06-11

when it’s called for.”
    “Well, there you go.”
    “They weren’t shooting at me. Nobody has ever shot at me, except when I was a cop.”

    “Maybe there’s bad people you put in the pokey; maybe they’re all pissed off about it.”
    There had, in fact, been such a case in Stone’s past, but only one, and he was not about to admit it to Billy Bob Barnstormer. “Nope.”
    “Well, how ’bout that feller with the German name that got after you and Dino that time?” Billy Bob asked.
    “How’d you hear about that?” Stone asked.
    “I got my sources. You think I’d hire you without checking you out?”
    “You haven’t hired me, Billy Bob, and it’s my considered opinion that there’s no reason why you should.”
    “I don’t see how you figure that,” Billy Bob replied. “I needed a lawyer last night.”
    “Not really; all you needed was somebody to disarm you. I just made the investigation go a little faster.”
    “Funny, I thought it was when I mentioned Mike Bloomberg that things got to going faster.”
    “Right, you see? You don’t need a lawyer.”
    “Well, I think I’m going to be the judge of that,” Billy Bob said, taking an envelope from a pocket and laying it on the table.
    “What’s that?”
    “Your retainer,” Billy Bob said.
    “My retainer for what?”
    “For representing me as my lawyer. It’s a check for fifty grand.”
    Stone gulped and washed down some eggs with some orange juice. “What are you involved in, Billy Bob?”
    “Why, I don’t know what you mean.”
    “I mean, you got shot at last night, and you seem real anxious to have a lawyer.”
    “Just in case.”
    “Just in case of what? ”
    “You know what I mean.”

    “No, I don’t know what you mean.”
    “Everybody ought to have a lawyer. I have a lawyer ever’ place I do business.”
    “And how many lawyers is that?”
    “A whole mess of ’em.”
    “At fifty grand a pop?”
    “Well, I pay less in the boondocks, but when you’re in a place like New York, you got to go first class.”
    “I appreciate that, Billy Bob, but if I’m going to be your lawyer, you’re going to have to level with me.”
    “Stone, I promise you, the second there’s something to level with you about, I’ll level with you.”
    Stone eyed the envelope with the check. He had been prepared to instruct his secretary to sell some stock this morning, since he was cash poor.
    “Well, all right, I’ll represent you, but you’ve got to keep me up-to-date on what you’re doing, if I’m going to be effective.”
    “Why, sure I will,” Billy Bob said soothingly.
    Stone didn’t feel soothed. He felt stuffed like a pig, having just eaten the biggest breakfast of his life. All he needed now was an apple in his mouth. He read the Times and tried to forget his stomach.
    The phone rang, and Stone picked up the kitchen extension. “Hello?”
    “Good morning,” a man said. “May I speak with Billy Bob Barnstormer, please? This is Warren Buffett calling.” Stone was stunned into silence for a moment.
    “Hello?” Buffett said.
    “Sorry, just a moment.” Stone held out the phone to Billy Bob. “It’s for you.”
    Billy Bob took the phone. “Hello? Hey, Warren, how you doin’? Just fine thanks. We ready to go? Shoot, I been ready for a month. You want some money? How much? Thirty? That gonna be enough to give us a decent cash reserve? You sure you don’t need more? Well, it’s there if you need it. I’ll get it to you this morning. Nah, I got your account number from last time. Great, you take care now.” Billy Bob hung up. “Mind if I make a long-distance call on your phone? I’ll pay, of course.”
    “As long as it’s not to Hong Kong, be my guest.”
    Billy Bob dialed a number. “Hey, Ralph. You up yet? Okay, when you get to the office wire Warren Buffett thirty million dollars. Yeah, same account as last time and the time before that. You know the drill. Okay, talk to you later.” Billy Bob hung up. “Well, we’re off!”
    Stone stared at him, wondering. Well, he’d seen Buffett on television lately, and it had sounded like him.

5
    STONE WORKED in his office most of the day, clearing his desk of papers that had piled up over the past couple of weeks. It went like that, usually—he neglected things, then got them done in a rush. He had his secretary, Joan Robertson, deposit Billy Bob’s check, and she looked relieved to have the money in the bank.
    Late in the afternoon he went upstairs and looked