She hung up. “How’d I do?”
“You made your point,” Stone said. “I wish we could have learned who he paid ten thousand dollars to get the carry permit for him. I would have liked for Dino to nail that bastard.”
“How much did you pay Dino to get mine?”
“Listen to me very carefully,” Stone said. “All Dino did was to move you up in the line and write a letter swearing to your good character. You’re ungrateful to insinuate that he broke the law by doing you a favor.”
She looked away, abashed. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Just as long as you know the truth. Tell me, did you ever have occasion to sniff the barrel of the pistol Trench gave you?”
“You mean, like, take cocaine off it?”
“No, I mean to ask what it smelled like, if you smelled it.”
“I didn’t smell it. I didn’t know I should have.”
“It was not a requirement, just a precaution.”
“Against what?”
“If the gun smelled of oil, it would not have been fired recently. If it smelled of gunpowder, then it would have been fired.”
“What does gunpowder smell like?”
Stone thought about that. “Like gunpowder, I guess. I don’t know what compares.”
“Now am I safe from being accused of a crime?”
“No, but nobody can prove that you committed one — not with that pistol, anyway. Do you think that Trench is capable of using it to murder someone, then giving it to you?”
That stopped her. “I don’t know, but after his attitude in that conversation, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Give me the receipt that Fred gave you, and I’ll put it in my safe.”
She dug it out of her handbag and handed it over, and he put it into an envelope, wrote her name on it, and put it into his safe. “There,” he said, “that problem solved.”
She sat down in his lap and snuggled. “Are you going to solve all my problems?”
“That depends on what problems you have. If you want to tell all, go ahead, and I’ll do what I can.”
“Let me think about it,” she said.
“That bitch.”
Trench wanted to throw his phone against the wall but didn’t give in to the urge. That asshole attorney must have told Matilda to send the gun back.
He called Bozo.
“Hi, Trench.”
“Are you still interested in a little side work?”
“I am.”
“There’s a problem I’d like dealt with posthaste.”
“The lawyer you had me follow the other day? Barrington?”
“One and the same.”
“You want me to finish what Huff fucked up.”
“Very much. But not just Barrington. Matilda Martin, too.”
“Are we talking about a don’t-mess-with-me message?”
“No. Something more permanent, if you get my drift.”
“I do. Give me a day or two to set things up.”
“The sooner the better. And, Bozo, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“I want to be there when it happens.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“It is if you want to get paid.”
“On second thought, I’d love to have you along.”
Chapter 16
Matilda went upstairs, and Joan buzzed Stone. “Carly Riggs on one for you.”
Carly had been a graduating law student at Yale, number one in her class, when Stone first met her. He had been so impressed that he recommended her to Woodman & Weld for a job as an associate.
Stone pressed the button. “Carly? How are you?”
“I’m terrific,” she replied, “as always.”
She made him laugh, too. “How’s life at Woodman & Weld?”
“Interesting. I took the bar exam this morning.”
“So soon? I thought new associates spent a couple weeks cramming for it.”
“Nah, I read the cram book once, and I think I aced it.”
That she would say that out loud was typical Carly. She did not have the same social filters as others.
“When do you get the results?” he asked.
“They say in a week.”
“I think it’s likely that somebody at Woodman & Weld will whisper the results in your shell-like ear before that. Somebody told me when I had taken it that I’d finished in the ninety-something percentile, and only the next day.”
Someone spoke to her at the other end. “Can I call you back?” she asked.
“Sure. The law comes first.”
She hung up.
Stone’s phone rang again. It was Carly.
“It’s me again. You were right, somebody told me I did very, very well on the bar, but they didn’t have a percentile.”
“Then you’ve got nothing to sweat. Relax and learn how to practice law.”
“Oh, I already know how to do that — the criminal part, I mean.”
“Yes?”
“Sure, I’ve seen every episode of Law & Order at least twice, and I never forget anything.”
“You’ll find there’s more than that to learn, and don’t forget the civil side — that’s where most of the money is made, year in and year out.”
“Well, they’ve got me working for Herb Fisher, and he practices whatever law walks in the door, so a year or so of him, and I’ll be ready for a partnership.”
“Carly, take my advice: never even whisper those words to any person at Woodman & Weld, or you’ll discover you have a big target on your back. You must try, as hard as it may be, to display a becoming amount of modesty, even though that is not in your nature.”
“Okay, sure.”
“I know it won’t be easy for you, but know that it will make life easier for you in a big law firm. And handle Bill Eggers, in particular, with kid gloves. He’s your managing partner, and your career rests in his hands, not yours.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Forget it at your peril. You’re going to have to acquire some editorial skills when wagging your tongue. A slip can come back to haunt you, when you least expect it.”
“I understand.”
“I hope to God you do, or you’ll find yourself hanging out a shingle at an office in the cheapest neighborhood in the city. Remember, there are two words that can damn any young lawyer to hell in a handbasket. The words are ‘private practice.’ At cocktail parties, especially ones where there are a lot of lawyers present, hearing those words will cause eyes to glaze over.”
“You sound as if you want me to be afraid,” Carly said.
“Just a little fear can go a long way to make life in the law easier. And don’t talk to Herb Fisher the way you talk to me. He’s in a position to cut you off at the knees, if you annoy him or insult his intelligence. Remember, he’s almost as smart as you are, and he has a lot more political savvy — in office politics — so shut up, listen, and learn.”
“Oh, all right.”
“And no matter what you do, don’t let him get you into bed. He won’t tell anyone, but everybody in the office will know immediately.”
“If I don’t tell anybody, and he doesn’t tell anybody, how will they know?”
“They can smell it on the breeze,” Stone said. “Trust me.” He paused. “You haven’t slept with him already, have you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“But you were thinking about it, weren’t you?”
“Oh, stop it.”
“Here’s how to handle this: pretend that everybody in the office thinks the two of you have slept together, so spend all your time convincing them you have not.”
“That makes a weird kind of sense.”
“Would you like to have dinner with Dino and me this evening? Bill Eggers will be joining us, too. It would be good for you to get some face time with him.”