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“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.”


Tags: Stuart Woods Stone Barrington Mystery