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  Stone conceded the point. “He even went so far as to marry one.”

  Herbie’s ex-wife had run off to Aruba with her brother, not to mention a few million dollars of company assets, leaving Herbie holding the bag.

  “I remember it well. So, here he is, popping up again with a new fiancée. If that’s not déjà vu, I don’t know what is.”

  “At least this one isn’t a hooker. She looks like a very nice young girl.”

  “I hope so,” Dino said.

  “You’re really concerned.”

  “Well, I’d hate to see Herbie get his heart broken. Is that bad?”

  “It’s kind of sweet,” Stone said.

  Dino threw a napkin at him.

  3

  ON THE SIDEWALK outside Patroon, Mario Payday’s goon Carlo leaned up against the window and pressed his face to the glass. The young man at the table in the back certainly appeared to be Herbie Fisher. Of course, it was hard to tell with the picture he had to work with. As usual, in identifying one of Mario Payday’s new clients, Carlo had gone right to the source and checked his arrest record. Herbie had one, but his mug shot wasn’t very good. The young man in the restaurant looked a lot better than the one in the photo. Of course, at the time the photo was taken he’d just been picked up on a charge of murder, which couldn’t have helped. According to the rap sheet, he’d been charged with killing a mobster named Carmine Dattila, commonly known as Dattila the Hun. Carlo remembered the incident. The guy had marched into Dattila’s place of business and shot him twice in the head in front of a dozen witnesses. Carlo couldn’t imagine the young man at the table doing that. He couldn’t imagine anyone doing it and beating the rap. Some things, Carlo told himself, just weren’t fair.

  Carlo whipped out his cell phone and called Mario.

  “I got him.”

  “Got who?”

  “Your ninety-thousand-dollar marker. I found him having dinner.”

  “Where?”

  “Patroon. Guy’s cleaned up his act some since his last arrest, but it sure looks like him.”

  “Does he look like he could pay ninety grand?”

  “Sure does, unless it’s all for show.”

  “Okay. Make sure it’s him. If it is, loosen him up.”

  “Okay.”

  Carlo hung up the phone and went in. A man sitting near the door looked familiar, but Carlo couldn’t place him. He walked on by and headed for the table in the back of the restaurant.

  The young couple were speaking intimately, their heads tilted toward each other, laughing. Carlo would have to spoil their fun. That didn’t bother him. Spoiling people’s fun was a fringe benefit of the job.

  Carlo walked up to the table and said, “Herbie Fisher?”

  They looked up.

  The girl frowned.

  The guy said, “Herb Fisher.”

  Carlo shrugged. “Whatever. Mr. Fisher, you owe me ninety thousand dollars.”

  The girl was clearly upset. She looked at the young man and said, “Herbie, what’s going on?”

  “Mister,” Herbie said, “I don’t know who you are, but I don’t owe you ninety thousand dollars.”

  “Fair enough. You owe my boss, and he intends to collect. He wanted me to give you advance notice because he is a very nice guy and likes to give fair warning.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must have me confused with someone else.”

  “Herb Fisher? It is Herb Fisher, isn’t it?” Carlo slapped the rap sheet down on the table. “This is you, isn’t it?”

  Herbie got to his feet. “All right. You get the hell out of here.”

  “Or what?”

  “There’s no what. You’re going to leave under your own power, or I’ll have you thrown out.”

  “Have me thrown out? Oh, big man. What, you gonna call the chef?”

  At the table in front, Stone Barrington looked over Dino’s shoulder. “Uh-oh.”

  “What?”

  “Looks like trouble.”

  Dino turned to look. The two men were facing off. “That doesn’t look good. You think Herbie would welcome an intervention? Or you think he wants to show off in front of his girl?”

  “I’m sure Patroon would welcome an intervention.”

  Dino got to his feet and started for the back.

  Herbie saw Dino and put up his hand. “It’s okay. I got this.”

  Carlo looked to see who was coming up behind him. It was the man who’d been sitting at the front table, the guy who’d looked familiar.

  The penny dropped.

  It was the commissioner of police!

  Carlo shied away from Dino and crashed into Herbie. Herbie grabbed ahold of him to keep them both from going down. Carlo tried to break free, but Herbie had him by the arm. This was not good. Mario would not be pleased if he let himself get picked up by the commissioner of police.

  Carlo reached under his jacket and pulled out a snub-nosed revolver.

  “Look out, he’s got a gun!” Dino yelled.

  Herbie spun Carlo away, taking Yvette out of the line of fire.

  Carlo’s finger twisted around the trigger.

  The gun went off.

  The sound was deafening in the crowded restaurant.

  The bullet missed everyone and plowed into the wall.

  The shock of the gunshot made Herbie lose his grip. Carlo spun away, ducked past Dino Bacchetti, and charged down the aisle.

  Stone stuck out his foot.

  Carlo went down, rolled once, and came up in full panic mode. He fired another shot over his shoulder, lunged out the door, and pelted down the street as if the devil were at his heels.

  4

  THE COPS RUINED dinner. Any way you sliced it, a romantic evening was not in the offing with ballistics experts digging bullets out of walls and detectives taking witness statements.

  The detective taking Herbie’s was rather arrogant. His attitude gave the impression he didn’t believe a word Herbie said.

  Of course, the fact that they had Herbie’s rap sheet didn’t help.

  “The man said you owed him money?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “But you don’t?”

  “I don’t even know who he is.”

  “If you don’t know who he is, how can you be sure you don’t owe him money?”

  “I don’t owe anyone money.”

  “That’s a rather broad statement. Couldn’t you have some debt you forgot about?”

  “He said I owed him ninety thousand dollars. I’d be apt to remember that.”

  “And he slapped your rap sheet on the table?”

  “That’s right.”

  The detective held it up. “This is your rap sheet?”

  “I told you it was. I pointed it out to you.”

  “You committed all these crimes?”

  “Hardly any of them. You’ll notice most of the charges were dismissed.”

  “This one wasn’t. Assaulting a police officer.”

  Herbie said nothing.

  “Do I have reason to be alarmed?”

  “Only if you scare easily.”

  “How did you assault the police officer?”

  “I kicked him in the balls.”

  The detective took a step back.

  Herbie glanced over at Yvette. She was remaining calm, but he could tell she was less than happy. All this had happened before they even had appetizers, and Yvette had to be getting hungry, because he was.

  “Look, guys,” Herbie said, “I understand you have to keep me because I had the misfortune of being assaulted in a public restaurant, but there’s no reason to punish the young lady, who had absolutely nothing to do with it. Why don’t you take a statement from her and let her go?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” the detective said ironically. “Were we inconveniencing you? We wouldn’t want to interfere with the dinner plans of you fine folks just because someone showed up at your table and fired a few shots.”

  Dino Bac
chetti cocked his head in the detective’s direction. “Sam?”

  The detective saw who it was and snapped to attention. “Sir? Did you need something?”

  Dino’s smile was frosty. “Come here, will you?”

  “I think we’re about to get the VIP treatment,” Herbie whispered to Yvette.

  “Oh?”

  “Dino didn’t like the tone the detective was taking. I think they’re discussing proper etiquette now.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m afraid it’s not going to get us dinner.”

  “That’s all right.”

  “No, it’s not all right. This was our engagement dinner.”

  “Don’t worry. The wedding’s still on.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Are there any deal breakers involved here? If they lead me away in handcuffs, for instance?”

  Yvette’s eyes twinkled. “I suppose I should keep my options open. I didn’t know you were such a criminal.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “What?”

  “Your eyes are sparkling. It’s the Robin Hood effect. Girls can’t help falling in love with an outlaw.”

  “Were you really an outlaw?”

  “I was just young. And I had no money.”

  “You stole things?”

  “No.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I took borderline jobs.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like taking pictures of a cheating husband with the other woman.”

  “In bed?”

  “I was supposed to.”

  “What happened?”

  “I got arrested.”

  “Oh?”

  “I never said I was a good outlaw.”

  “Oh, dear. Maybe I should reconsider.”

  “You can if you like. But I’m giving you an engagement dinner, one way or another.”

  “Just not tonight. Tonight we’re having takeout.” She favored him with a coquettish smile. “And I’ll show my studly little outlaw how lucky he is to be dining at home.”

  The detective returned in time to hear that.

  Herbie found himself blushing furiously.

  5

  HERBIE’S CLIENTS AT Woodman & Weld fell into two categories: those he could tell he’d been shot at in a restaurant, and those with whom it was better he remain silent on the topic.

  Joshua Hook fell into the former category. Josh was one of his first clients, right after he’d been made a senior associate at Woodman & Weld. Mike Freeman, the chairman and CEO of Strategic Services, the prestigious defense organization that provided armed bodyguards, state-of-the-art alarm systems, and confidential investigations including the use of spyware, had hired Herbie to set up the corporate framework for Strategic Defenses, a new division that would be wholly owned by Strategic Services but would function as a separate company. Strategic Defenses would specialize in offering bodyguard training to their clients’ employees, including the use of firearms, defensive and offensive driving techniques, and the basics of hand-to-hand combat.

  Joshua Hook was the ex–CIA agent Mike had hired to be CEO. Herbie hit it off with Josh. They not only set up the school together, but Herbie had taken one of Josh’s earliest classes, so he expected to take some ribbing about the shooting.

  Sure enough, Josh found it highly amusing.

  “I love it,” Josh said. “For a defensive training school it’s kind of appropriate having an attorney who’s a moving target. I hope you took his gun away from him and pistol-whipped him.”

  “He fled before I could tie him in knots.”

  “Too bad. We can always use the publicity.”

  “From what I understand, you’re doing quite well as it is.”

  That was an understatement. Josh’s defensive training school was thriving, and even the sprawling facility in upstate New York, which included a high-speed racetrack, indoor and outdoor shooting ranges, and an airstrip, was growing cramped.

  Josh had called to see about restructuring the corporation in order to expand. Simple contract work of this nature was something Herbie would normally have farmed out to an associate, but Josh was a friend, and Herbie always handled Josh’s affairs personally.

  Herbie had just finished up with Josh when Dino called.

  “Hi, Dino. What’s up?”

  “You busy?”

  “I was just on the phone with Josh Hook at Strategic Defenses.”

  “Oh? How is he doing?”

  “Too well. Business is booming, and he needs to expand. He has more students than he can handle.”

  “Is he still teaching himself?”

  “He has a staff of instructors, but he keeps his hand in. There’s a waiting list for his classes. Anyway, he wants to restructure, so I have to review the contracts.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “No, but I need to get it done before brunch.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m taking Yvette out to make up for last night.”

  “She’ll go for that?”

  “What?”

  “Trading a dinner for a brunch?”

  “She’ll get the dinner, too. I’m just calling it an engagement brunch. It’s the gesture that’s important.”

  “I was kidding. Anyway, about the shooting.”

  “Any progress?”

  “Not really. The bullets are thirty-eight caliber. They don’t match the bullets from any crime scene or autopsy or anything we have on file. It doesn’t mean we don’t have a record of the gun, it just means we don’t have any bullets from it.”

  “That’s clear as mud.”

  “Yeah, it’s another way of saying we got nothing. Anyway, you had a good look at the guy. Do you have time to drop by the precinct and look at mug shots?”

  “You got a good look. Why don’t you look at mug shots?”

  “I did. Nothing rings a bell. Now, this guy says you owe his boss ninety thousand dollars.”

  “The guy’s wrong.”

  “Didn’t you used to have gambling debts?”

  “I paid them off.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yeah. When I won the lottery, I paid off everybody. Believe me, everybody heard about it and everybody asked.”

  “There’s a bunch of loan sharks around. I’m wondering if any of them might be familiar.”

  “They’re not. The only one I borrowed from was Vinnie the Vig.”

  “Vinnie the Vig is dead.”

  “I know. And before he died I paid him every last cent. I tell you, this guy’s got me mixed up with someone else.”

  “Yeah, well, when you come down you can look at their mug shots, too, see if anyone’s familiar. So how about it? Can you come over?”

  “After brunch.”

  “I’m going to call and remind you. You got your cell phone? I tried to catch you before but it went to voice mail.”

  “That’s not good,” Herbie said. “It’s either on silent or I left it at home. Hang on a second.”

  Herbie snatched up his iPad and opened an app.

  “What are you doing?” Dino said.

  “Yvette showed me this app—Find My Phone. I call it up on my iPad and I get a map. And the blinking light says … it’s in my apartment. Great. I’ll have her bring it to brunch.”

  “There’s too much damn technology,” Dino said.

  “I know,” Herbie said. “I feel like a dinosaur.”

  “Join the club.”

  6

  YVETTE SIPPED HER cappuccino and smiled at Herbie across the table at the café he had chosen for their engagement brunch. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “Yes, I did. It’s not every bride-to-be who gets shot at instead of eating dinner.”

  “That makes me special.”

  “You are special.”

  Yvette’s French toast arrived. She poured on pure maple syrup and loaded a forkful with berries, nuts, and cream. She took a bite and practically purred.

  Herbie sliced int
o his ricotta pancakes and watched her fondly.

  “I hope you’re not planning a big wedding,” Yvette said between bites.

  “Of course not. Just two or three hundred of our closest friends.”

  “I’m serious, Herbie. My parents are dead and I have no close relations.”

  “We could run off to Vegas if you want.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Well, if it’s over the weekend. We have this corporate merger.”

  Yvette laughed and shook her head. “Ah, Herbie, you hopeless romantic. Willing to do anything wild and impulsive as long as it fits into Woodman & Weld’s schedule.”

  “It’s not so bad, really.”

  “I didn’t say it was bad. I just find it amusing. Oh, I brought your phone.” Yvette took it out of her purse and held it up, teasingly. “I’m not sure I should give it to you. You’ll just get a call from work.”

  Herbie smiled. “I told them to hold my calls.”

  Yvette passed the phone over.

  It rang.

  “See?” Yvette said. “There’s the office now.”

  “It won’t be work,” Herbie said. He clicked on the phone. “Hello?”

  “Oh, Herb! Thank God I got you! I’m in a terrible bind. I need your help.”

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s James Glick.”

  Herbie frowned. James Glick was one of Woodman & Weld’s upcoming young lawyers, but he was a trial lawyer. It wasn’t often that trial lawyers needed a corporate consultation, and never urgently and during lunch.

  “Yes, James,” Herbie said. He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, but having just told Yvette it wouldn’t be someone from the office, he was not in a forgiving mood.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s the lunch hour, isn’t it? I’ve lost all track of time.”

  “So, call me later.”

  “No, no, you don’t understand. I need you now. I’m supposed to be in court, but I had to go to the hospital for an emergency appendectomy.”

  “So call the court and get a continuance.”

  “I can’t. It’s Judge Buckingham. You know what he’s like. A real prosecutor’s judge.”

  “Wait a minute. This is a criminal case?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Why are you handling a criminal case?”

  “It’s a major client—Councilman Ross.”