Стюарт Вудс - Barely Legal

“Ah, Carlo,” Mario said. He shook his head deploringly, but almost fondly. “Try to learn something. If you hit him, he can’t pay. If you miss him, he knows you don’t mean to hit him. What’s the good of that?”

“I could shoot his girlfriend.”

Mario blinked. “He has a girlfriend?”

“Yeah. She was with him in the restaurant. They looked like they’re in love.”

“You might have mentioned this before.”

“Why?”

“It’s called leverage, Carlo.” Mario blew a smoke ring. “So. That’s excellent. I gave him twenty-four hours to pay, and he has not done so. I can’t let someone stiff me on a debt of that size. It makes me look weak. A man in my profession can’t afford to look weak.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“We are going to set him up, Carlo. We are going to make him wish he’d paid.”

Yvette came out the front door of Herbie’s apartment building. She smiled at the doorman and declined his offer to get her a cab. Instead, she strolled in the sunshine down Park Avenue. As she was passing the side street, hands grabbed her and pulled her aside.

“Donnie!” Yvette hissed. “What are you doing? You can’t be here. Why are you here?”

“Why do you think?”

“I can’t keep giving you money.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t want you to.”

“Really?”

“That would be stupid.”

Yvette looked at him suspiciously. “Really?”

“Of course not. Blow our chances just for a few bucks? What a bad move.” Donnie stretched and cocked his head. “Though I could use some cash.”

“Donnie.”

“Relax, I’m not taking your money. Of course, I wouldn’t mind taking his.”

“Damn it, Donnie.”

“Take it easy. Did I say I was doing it? No. I said I wouldn’t mind. There’s the problem. You’ve got this wonderful setup, but it’s taking a little long, and what am I gonna do for money?”

“You ever think of working?”

“You are funny. So, I was thinking, ’cause that’s what I do, ’cause one of us has to, so I was thinking, how can I take some of this guy’s money without taking his money.”

“Oh, you were thinking that? There’s a brilliant idea.”

“Actually, it is. See, this guy’s rich. He’s got all this expensive shit.”

“I am not stealing from him.”

“Of course not. I am. All you have to do is what you’ve been doing. And you do it so well, don’t you, honey?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all worked out.” Donnie handed her a little glass vial. He put it in her palm, wrapped her fingers around it. “You take this, you put it in his drink. You mix him drinks, don’t you, honey? So you mix this one. And he goes to sleep, just for a little while — you’re not poisoning him, just a nice, deep sleep. And while he’s out, I steal his stuff.”

“And how am I going to explain how his stuff vanished from under my nose ?” Yvette asked sarcastically.

“What’s to explain? You’re going to show me the stuff he never uses. The stuff he never even looks at. He won’t even know he’s been robbed.”

“Oh, yeah? How are you going to rob him? You can’t get in.”

He laughed. “Oh, how little you know.”

Herbie was on his way up Centre Street toward the courthouse when two goons fell into step next to him.

“Aw, come on, guys, give it a rest,” Herbie said.

The goons flanked him and took him by the arms.

“I hate to spoil your fun, but I really don’t have time to hang upside down for you right now.”

No one was paying the least attention to him. The goons marched him down the street to a stretch limo, thrust him inside, and slammed the door.

The man sitting in the backseat was flashily dressed. His clothes were expensive but showed little taste. He looked as if a great deal of care had been taken to make him appear just wrong. The effect was vulgar, while meant to be impressive.

He smiled cordially and said, “Please, sit down.”

Herbie sat in the seat facing him.

“Would you care for a drink?”

“Thank you, I have to be in court.”

“Yes, I know. You’re Herb Fisher.” He cocked his head. “Do you know me?”

“I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“I’m Tommy Taperelli.”

“Ah, yes. The man with no ties to Detective Kelly.”

Taperelli smiled. “That’s funny. Keep that sense of humor and we’ll get along fine. That’s right, I’m the man with no ties to Detective Kelly. And since I don’t have any, there’s no reason to waste time trying to prove I do.”

“Is that right?”

“It’s not just right, it’s essential. This case needs to end today, and not in a plea bargain. In a verdict. Because people need to get on with their lives, for many reasons too numerous to mention. So I thought that’s why we should have this talk, one gentleman to another. Because Woodman & Weld is a prestigious firm, but they can’t keep running through lawyers like this. It would be a shame if they had to bring in somebody else.”

“Let’s not let that happen.”

“Oh, but it will, if you can’t wrap up the case tonight. You either expedite the hearing and the case goes to the jury this afternoon, or your replacement takes a dive tomorrow morning, which would be embarrassing for us both. I don’t like to be embarrassed, Mr. Fisher, I like it when things go smoothly.” Taperelli smiled. “Are you sure you won’t have that drink?”

“I really can’t,” Herbie said. “But you’ve certainly given me a lot to think about.”

“Oh, don’t think, Mr. Fisher. Just do it.” Taperelli chuckled.

Herbie smiled at Taperelli. “No problem.”

Herbie couldn’t help looking around for goons as he walked into court. Mookie, in his usual spot in the back row, seemed a good bet. He wasn’t one of the goons who’d dragged him off to Taperelli, still, he had that look. The other goons didn’t appear to be there, but that didn’t matter, all it took was one to report on what he did or didn’t do.

David Ross was bright-eyed and eager at the defense table. He jumped up when Herbie came in. “You’re here. I take it James Glick isn’t coming.”

“I doubt it.”

“Good. I won’t have to argue with him. I don’t need a lawyer selling me out.” David frowned. “What’s the matter? You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine,” Herbie said, but it wasn’t true. Taperelli’s threat was real and immediate. Herbie knew that, just as the reason for James Glick’s absence was now readily apparent. The young man wasn’t dead — he had spoken to Herbie, very much alive — but the odds of him actually being in the hospital had dropped to zero, and the odds of Herbie winding up there had escalated astronomically.

Herbie was tempted to call a recess and speak to the judge. Unfortunately, Judge Buckingham was not likely to listen. The man was so hostile, Herbie couldn’t rule out the idea that he was in bed with Taperelli.

There was no telling where Herbie’s actions would leave David Ross. For his first criminal trial, things could not have gone worse. Herbie didn’t know much about procedure in such cases. He knew just one thing. He had a duty to protect his client.

At ten o’clock sharp Judge Buckingham called in the jury and returned Detective Kelly to the stand.

“Detective, I remind you that you are still under oath. Mr. Fisher, you may proceed.”

Herbie stood up. All he had to do was say, “No further questions.” It was not as if there was anything momentous he had to bring out. His bombshell had been Taperelli, and that had fizzled what with the detective’s denial and the judge ruling against further questions. The prosecution had other witnesses — the female narc, the lab technician, and the fingerprint expert. Herbie could dismiss Kelly and take his chances with them.