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Dino waylaid a passing waiter. “Bring what’s-his-name here his usual Kentucky swill and me my usual princely Scotch,” Dino said. “And a wine list; Stone’s buying.”
“Here we go,” Stone said, rolling his eyes.
Dino pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to Stone. “Here’s Herbie’s arrest report,” he said. “I scrubbed it from the computer, too.”
Stone looked it over and then put it in his pocket.
“Aren’t you going to burn it?”
“Not until I’ve shown it to Herbie,” Stone replied.
“What’s he up to these days, besides annoying honest police officers?”
“He bought an apartment on Park Avenue for three and a half big ones,” Stone said.
“Where on Park?”
Stone recited the number.
“Not the penthouse, I hope.”
“Well, you can hope,” Stone said. “What’s wrong with the penthouse?”
“Nothing if Herbie isn’t bothered by ghosts.”
“Ghosts? What are you talking about?”
“You know, if you read a real street newspaper instead of the Times, you’d know these things.”
“What things?”
“There was a double murder there about a year and a half ago: man and woman found hacked to death on the living room floor. The ME says the murderers used meat cleavers.”
“Why are you telling me this? I don’t want to know this stuff.”
“Herbie might. The apartment is unsalable; there’ve been two sightings of ghosts in the place. How much is Herbie paying?”
“I told you, three and a half million.”
“I guess that’s a bargain, kind of; they were asking five.”
“Herbie says five and a half but that he’s a great negotiator.”
“They should have paid him,” Dino said. “That’s the kind of thing that hangs over a piece of real estate for decades. I guess he could redecorate.”
“He bought it furnished.”
“Take my advice: when you draw up the contract, be sure to include a clause that requires the seller-or his estate-to have the living room carpet replaced.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Stone said.
“Can you get him out of it?”
“He already gave them a check for three hundred and fifty grand.”
“Did he sign the disclosure form?”
“I don’t know.”
