Tony Levy was short, stocky, and crafty. He earned his living as a lawyer by hanging around the courts, picking up cases on the fly. Stone had met him half a dozen times in the courthouse, and he was perfect for tonight’s purpose. He reached across the railing and tapped Levy on the shoulder.
“Hey, Stone,” Levy said, smiling and offering his hand. “I haven’t seen you down here for a while.”
“I try to stay uptown,” Stone said. “I’ve got a case for you. Can you talk?”
Levy turned back to his client, who was sporting a full set of restraints. “Don’t go anywhere for a minute,” he said, then he waved Stone to the side of the courtroom and led him through a door into a small conference room. “What’s up?” he asked.
“Nephew of a friend of mine—you know Bob Cantor?”
“Ex-cop? Yeah, I had him on the witness stand a few times.”
“His nephew, name of Herbert Fisher, is downstairs awaiting arraignment on charges of man two, B and E, and attempted burglary.”
“Nice,” Levy said.
“He was apparently taking some bedroom shots for a divorce case, and he fell through a skylight and onto a guy who was getting a very thorough massage from a young lady.”
“Jesus!”
“Right. Trouble is, when Herbie came to, the guy was dead.”
“And that’s the man two?”
“Right, and it sounds wrong because Herbie fell on his legs. The cops came and took him away. I can work on reducing the charges later, but right now I just want him bailed. I’ll call Irving Newman and arrange that, so his man in the court will be ready for you.”
“Okay.”
“Herbie is twenty-two, no priors, has a job and an apartment. I figure twenty-five grand for bail, but I’ll be prepared for more, if necessary.”
“Okay, seems straightforward. A grand will buy me.”
“I’ll send you cash by messenger tomorrow,” Stone said. “I don’t want my name on any paper connected with this. In fact, I don’t want to be associated with it in any way. Understand?”
“I read you loud and clear, Stone. I guess the partners at Woodman and Weld would frown on Herbie’s sort of activity.”
“They like me to stay out of night court, unless it’s their client,” Stone replied. “So I’m getting out of here now. Call me on my cell if there are any problems you can’t deal with. The kid is scared silly, and he needs to sleep in his bed tonight.”
“I’ll do everything but tuck him in,” Levy said.
Stone walked to where Carpenter was sitting, tapped her on the shoulder, and beckoned her to follow.
“Enjoy yourself?” he asked when they were outside the courtroom in the corridor.
“It’s fascinating,” she said. “When does your case come up?”
“It’s not my case. I’m just doing a favor for a friend. Another lawyer will represent the guy.” He dug out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Excuse me for a minute,” he said.
“Hello?” The voice didn’t sound sleepy. Irving Newman, Stone’s favorite bail bondsman, was accustomed to being awakened in the night.
“Irving, it’s Stone Barrington.”
“Stone, you okay? What’d they charge you with?”
“Thanks, Irving, I’m fine, and it’s not me,” Stone said, chuckling. “I’m down at night court. You know Bob Cantor?”
“Ex-cop?”
“Yeah. His nephew, one Herbert Fisher, is coming up tonight on man two, B and E, and attempted burglary. I figure bail will be twenty-five, but let’s be ready with more, just in case.”