“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.”