Stuart Woods: Reckless Abandon

Herbie brought himself up to his full five feet six. “I have no problem taking responsibility. I just won’t do time, that’s all.”

“Herbie, that’s how you take responsibility.”

“Stone, do you know how to get hold of Lance?”

“Lance can’t help you here, Herbie; only I can help you. You can help yourself by being a stand-up guy and taking your punishment.”

“I am a stand-up guy,” Herbie protested, his voice taking on a whine.

“Herbie, do you know who Lance is? Do you know who he works for?”

Herbie looked around furtively. “Well, I do have my suspicions. He’s mobbed up, isn’t he?”

“Worse than that, Herbie.”

“What’s worse than mobbed up? Russian mob?”

“Worse.”

“I can’t think of anything worse than the Russian mob.”

“Herbie, think about the work that Lance hired you to do.”

“You mean photographing that ambassador guy with his boyfriend?”

“I don’t want to know that, Herbie,” Stone said, throwing up his hands defensively. “But think for a minute: Who would want that kind of work done?”

Herbie thought about it. “You don’t mean…” “Go ahead, Herbie, say it.”

Herbie licked his lips and gulped. “ The National Enquirer ?”

Stone buried his face in his hands. “Herbie, Lance works for a branch of the federal government, a branch that does dirty little things like photographing ambassadors with their boyfriends. Can’t you think of who that might be?”

“You’re not talking about the CIA, are you?”

“Congratulations, Herbie, you’re coming out of the fog.”

Oddly, Herbie seemed pleased. “You mean I’m working for the CIA?”

“Not anymore.”

“Man, that should get me laid.” Herbie chuckled.

“Herbie, it could get you a lot worse than laid,” Stone said.

“What do you mean?”

“Lance intimated to me that, if your case came to trial, his people might use other means to stop it.”

“You mean like bribing the judge?”

“No, Herbie.”

“Well, anybody who’d want an ambassador photographed with his head buried in another guy’s crotch wouldn’t have a problem with bribing a judge, would they?”

“Herbie, you’re not thinking this out to its logical conclusion. These are people who own weapons with silencers, if you get my drift.”

“You mean, they might shoot the judge?” He didn’t seem displeased at the thought.

Stone shook his head. “No, Herbie. It would be a lot simpler just to shoot you, wouldn’t it?”

Herbie froze.

Stone thought he’d finally reached Herbie. “Of course, they’d probably make it look like an accident; a suicide, maybe.”

Herbie seemed speechless now.

“You see where this is headed, Herbie? Look, I’ll see what I can do to make life a little easier for you inside.”

“How can you do that?” Herbie asked.

“You can buy nearly anything in jail, Herbie. Do you have any money?”

Herbie shook his head. “My credit cards are pretty much maxed out.”

“Herbie, they don’t take MasterCard at Rikers.”

“Well, I sure don’t have any cash.”

“Maybe I can get some money out of Lance,” Stone said. He saw his retainer getting smaller.

“You really think this is the right thing to do, Stone? I mean, as my lawyer and my friend, you think this is right?”

“Herbie, it’s the only thing to do, trust me.”

“I trust you, Stone.”

“Thanks, Herbie.”

“I just don’t want to go to jail.”

“The best you can do now is to try not to do anything ever again that will get you sent to jail. Now come on, it’s time for court.” Stone grabbed Herbie’s wrist, hauled him off the bench, and towed him toward the courtroom.

“You’re sure we can’t bribe the judge?” Herbie asked.

“Shut up, Herbie,” Stone said.

STONE LED HERBIE into the courtroom, tightly holding his wrist so that he couldn’t run. His client came along only reluctantly. Stone shoved Herbie into a seat and sat down beside him.

Herbie stood up. “I gotta go to the men’s room.”

Stone grabbed his coattail and jerked him back into his seat. “Sit on it, Herbie,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere until we’re done here.”

“But I gotta go.”

“You should have gone when you had the chance. Am I going to have to handcuff you?”

Herbie stared at his feet. “I didn’t bring nothing that I need for jail, no toothbrush or anything. I thought you were going to make this go away.”

“They have a little store at Rikers where you can buy what you need. They’ll let you keep twenty dollars.”

“And I wore my good suit.”

“They’ll keep it for you, Herbie, and they’ll supply all the clothes you need. It’s a free service to guests.”

“All rise!” the bailiff yelled, and the courtroom crowd got to its feet.

Stone looked to his left and saw four uniforms sitting in the front row directly behind the table where Dierdre Monahan sat. He nudged Herbie. “Those are the four brothers of the ADA,” he said.

“Which?”

“The ones in police uniforms. The youngest is carrying a cane. You knocked him off duty for two days.”

“They’re big guys,” Herbie whispered.

“Very big.”

The judge came out of his chambers and headed for the bench. To Stone’s astonishment, Lance Cabot came out the same door immediately afterward and took a seat on the other side of the courtroom. He didn’t look at Stone. What the hell was going on here?

The judge rapped sharply. “Order! Court is in session!” He turned toward Dierdre. “Ms. Monahan, approach.”

Dierdre got up and approached the bench. There was a brief conversation, and the judge did nearly all the talking.

Dierdre went back to her seat, taking time to glare at Stone on the way.

“Why is she pissed off at you?” Herbie asked.

“I don’t know, but I think we’re about to find out.”

“If she’s pissed off at you, does that mean more jail time?”

“Herbie, she couldn’t be more pissed off at me now than she was an hour ago, believe me. Listen, this is going to take a while. Our case is pretty far down the docket, and I don’t want to hear any more whining about the men’s room.”

The bailiff looked at his clipboard. “People versus Herbert J. Fisher!” he yelled.

“Oh, shit,” Stone said under his breath.

“What’s the matter? This means we get out of here sooner, doesn’t it?” Herbie asked.

“Herbie, try and get this through your head,” Stone said, dragging Herbie toward the gate in the rail that separated the lawyers from the courtroom. “You’re not getting out of here, except in a police van. Got it?”

The judge watched Stone drag Herbie through the gate, and his gaze could have melted ice. He looked down at his papers. “Mr. Fisher, you’re charged with driving with a suspended license, DUI, and resisting arrest with violence. How do you plead?”

“Well, Your Honor…” Herbie began.

Stone leaned toward him. “Say guilty and nothing else.”

“Guilty and nothing else,” Herbie called out to the judge.

Stone winced.

“Mr. Barrington, do you have any objection to sentence being imposed at this time?”

“No, Judge,” Stone replied.

“Ms. Monahan,” the judge said, “do you have a sentence recommendation?”

Dierdre stood up. “Yes, Judge. The people recommend suspension of Mr. Fisher’s driver’s license for five years, twelve months’ imprisonment, and a ten-thousand-dollar fine.”

“WHAT?” Herbie yelled.

“Shut your mouth,” Stone said. Something had gone terribly wrong here.