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“Sure, Herbie,” Willie said. “And by the way, nicely done.”
“Thank you, Willie, and the same to you and Jimmy.” Herbie picked up the rear-seat phone and pressed a speed dial button.
“Woodman and Weld,” Joan said, “Stone Barrington’s office.”
“Hey, Joan.”
“Hey, Herbie, how you doing?”
“Couldn’t be better. Is he available?”
“Sure.” There was a click.
“Herbie?”
“Hey, Stone.”
“How’d it go?”
“It went like this: Dink is now housed in the funny farm, having committed himself and signed a durable power of attorney, naming me, and Carlo Contini is a happy man. I have his signature on a well-worded receipt that will keep him forever away from Dink.”
“Well done,” Stone said.
“Will you convey that to Bill Eggers?”
“No, I think you should convey it to him yourself, and bask in the warmth of his gratitude.”
“I like the sound of that,” Herbie said. “See ya.” He hung up as the Maybach glided to the curb at the Seagram Building.
Three minutes later, Herbie was entering Bill Eggers’s corner office. “Good afternoon, Bill.”
“Is it?” Eggers replied.
“Dink Brennan now resides at Winwood Farm,” Herbie said, taking documents from his pocket and handing them to Eggers, “and Carlo Contini has accepted our offer. It’s all there.”
Eggers tossed the documents on his desk without looking at them. “I just had a call, Herbie,” he said. “Dink Brennan escaped from the vehicle transporting him to Winwood Farm and is abroad in the land.”
Herbie felt as if he had been struck in the chest. “Well, Bill, I did as I was asked. I’m not in the escaped lunatic business.”
“You are now, Herbert,” Eggers replied.
7
Stone looked up from his desk to find Herbie Fisher standing in his doorway, breathing hard.
“Good afternoon, Herbie,” Stone said. “Have you taken up jogging?”
“I walked over here.”
“Sit down and catch your breath.”
The look on Herbie’s face made Stone wonder if the young man was going to explode or just cry.
“I got it all done, Stone, I told you that.”
“You did. Did you tell Bill?”
“Yes. He is unhappy.”
