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“Be sure and tell Junior that, when you tell him his attorney is on the way, and it is not I.”
He hung up.
Eventually, shaved, showered, and dressed, Stone made his way downstairs to his office, where he found a beautiful blonde in a short dress arranging the mail on his desk.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Peaches Page.”
“Of course you are.” Stone remembered that Joan had hired her. “Has Joan surfaced yet?”
“She called from a cab. She had to go down to the courthouse for something.”
“Probably picking out a lawyer for Eddie Jr. in the hallway outside the courtroom. That’s where the best ones hang out.”
“Really?”
“Not really, but murderers can’t be choosy.”
“I know Eddie Jr.,” Peaches replied. “He couldn’t be a murderer.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had that unfortunate experience, but when you’ve hung around law offices long enough, you’ll learn that absolutely anybody could be a murderer.”
“But his mother?”
“Stepmother.”
“Oh, well...”
“Yes.”
They heard the street door slam. Joan came in, dropping a couple of stuffed shopping bags and getting out of her coat.
“How did your tour of our courts turn out?” Stone asked.
“He got somebody from the law firm Annetta fired when she hired you,” she said. “Oh, the lawyer wants two million dollars from Eddie’s trust for bail.”
Stone thought about that.
“Well?” Joan asked.
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Well, it’s Eddie’s money—eventually.”
“Okay, but cut his allowance in half, until the trust has been reimbursed.”
“I’ll get it done.”
“No rush. A tour of Rikers Island will be a character-building experience for Junior.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Stone’s front doorbell rang a little after seven. He checked the camera, then buzzed Bridget Tierney in. He received her and gave her a welcoming hug and a kiss.
“It’s raining out there,” she said, handing him her umbrella and raincoat. “I hope you’re flexible about our dining arrangements.”
“We’re doing it in my study instead,” he said, leading the way and seating her on the sofa before the fireplace, which was ablaze. “Drink?”
“What’s the house specialty?”
