6 Stone Barrington Novels (165 page)

H
ERBIE TOOK A sip of the twelve-year-old Scotch he had requested. “Looks like I'm getting more popular,” he said to nobody in particular.

“It's an illusion,” Stone said. “Who brought the pictures in?”

“This guy.”

“Which guy?”

“This Italian guy.”

“How did you know he was Italian?”

“You think I don't know a goombah when I see one?” Herbie took another sip of Scotch. “And he had an Italian name.”

Stone took out his notebook and a pen. “Spell it for me,” he said.

“G . . .” Herbie blinked. “Hey, what about the reward?”

“It's like this, Herbie: The FBI said on television that they were offering a reward for the arrest of Trini Rodriguez. They didn't say that
they
had to arrest him.”

“So, they'll give me the reward even if Dino arrests him?”

“Well, that is certainly what I inferred from their announcement. Do you have any reason to think differently?”

Herbie scratched his head. “I don't think so.”

“Well, there you are.”

“Where?”

“There.”

“Where's there?”

Stone sighed. “Herbie, do you know what obstruction of justice is?”

“Sort of, I think.”

“Well, if you don't give me the name, Dino will arrest you for obstruction of justice.”

“Why give it to you? You're not a cop, Dino is.”

“Then give it to Dino.”

“Dino, if I give you the name, do you promise I'll get the reward?”

“Herbie, if you give me the name and address of the guy who brought the film in for processing, I promise I'll do everything in my power to get you that reward. I'll even write the FBI a letter, saying you're the guy who deserves the reward.”

Herbie brightened. “Okay.”

“That's
if
we arrest him and on your information,” Dino said. “If he's not at this guy's address, there's no reward.”

“Yeah, that seems fair,” Herbie said.

“So, give me the name.”

“And I'll be a hero?”

“Herbie, you're going to be a
dead
hero if you don't give me the name right now.” Dino stuck his hand under his jacket, as if reaching for his gun.

“Okay, okay,” Herbie said, raising his hands. “The name is Galeano—G—”

“I know how to spell it,” Dino said. “What's his first name?”

“Vito.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Dino said. “I know that guy. He runs a numbers operation, and God knows what else, out of a grocery store in Little Italy.”

“That's the address he gave me,” Herbie said, taking Stone's pad and pen and laboriously writing out the address.

“What's he doing getting film processed in Brooklyn?” Dino asked.

“He lives in the neighborhood. I'm not sure exactly where. He comes in all the time with his wife's pictures.”

“Stone and I are acquainted with the gentleman, too,” Holly said, inspecting the photograph. “Oh, oh, take a look at this, Stone,” she said, pointing. “I think this nails down the location, don't you?” She handed him the photograph.

Stone inspected it carefully. “Aha,” he said, “I believe that's our grave in the background.”

“Your grave?” Dino asked. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Remember, I told you about that? Mr. Galeano and
his friends dug this hole in the basement of his grocery store especially for Holly and me.”

Dino took the picture and looked at it closely. “So, why aren't you in it?”

“Because I persuaded him to call your father-in-law first. Eduardo suggested he not do it.”

“When did he dig the grave?”

“Yesterday,” Stone replied.

“So we know Trini was there yesterday.”

“Right.”

“And how do we know Trini isn't in the hole?”

“Because he was at that apartment today.”

“Did you actually see him?”

“No, but one of the SWAT team identified him just before he slammed the escape door in their faces.”

“When do I get the hundred grand?” Herbie asked.

“Herbie,” Dino said, “do you remember the conditions attached to the reward?”

“Sort of.”

“Let me review them for you: Number one, we have to arrest Trini on the information you supply. Number two, the FBI has to sign off on it.”

“Yeah, but you're going to write them a letter.”

“Herbie, as eloquent as I am on department stationery, not everybody does everything I ask them to. Especially the FBI.”

Herbie frowned. “I don't think I like the sound of that.”

“Gee, I'm sorry,” Dino said.

“Can you find out where Vito lives?” Stone asked Dino.

“Yeah, sure, but Trini's more likely to be at the grocery store than at Vito's house. Those guys never bring business home to the family, especially business like Trini.”

Stone's cell phone vibrated. “Hello?”

“Is this Stone Barrington?”

“Yes. Who's this?”

“This is Vito. You remember me?”

“Vito! How could I ever forget?”

Vito chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn't, in the circumstances.”

“Have you got a line on Rodriguez?” Stone asked.

“I think I might,” Vito said. “You want to meet me down at my place of business in the morning?”

“I have to wait until morning?”

“Well, I'm not going to be able to do anything for you until midday, at best, but if you want to spend the night in my basement . . .”

“No thanks, Vito, I've seen enough of your basement.”

“Okay. Come down tomorrow morning about eleven, and I'll see what I can do. You remember the address?”

“Oh, yes.”

“See you then.” Vito hung up.

“Herbie,” Stone said, “I'm afraid there's been a little hitch in getting you the reward.”

H
ERBIE FINALLY SEEMED to take a hint and left. Lance watched him walk out of Elaine's. “You know, that is one of the densest human beings it has ever been my misfortune to meet.”

“I have to agree,” Stone said. “And he's one of the most annoying, too.”

“Then why do you keep messing with him?” Dino asked.

“I don't keep messing with him. He keeps messing with me.”

“You, too, Lance,” Dino said.

“I know, I know. He was there when I needed him for a photograph, and now I can't get rid of him. He's convinced that he'd be perfect for Agency operations.”

“Can't you find a suicide mission to send him on?” Stone asked.

“Herbie is the kind of guy who'd walk into a suicide mission and walk out with a smile on his face and
everybody else dead, and he wouldn't have had a thing to do with it.”

“How the hell did you ever come up with him?” Stone asked.

“An operator I know gave him to me; Herbie's his nephew.”

“You, too? You know Bob Cantor?”

“
You
know Bob Cantor?” Lance responded.

“He works for me all the time.”

“Well, he has more than one client.”

“No wonder he's busy when I call him these days,” Stone said.

“Okay,” Dino said, “what's the deal with the phone call you just got?”

“It was Vito.”

“I got that part.”

“He says he may be able to put his hands on Trini tomorrow. He wants us to come down to his grocery store tomorrow morning.”

“You'd better take this seriously,” Dino said. “Vito Galeano is a serious guy.”

Holly spoke up. “He certainly seemed serious when he was about to shoot us and bury us in his cellar,” she said.

“Believe me, he was,” Dino replied. He turned to Stone. “What made you think to ask him to call Eduardo?”

“If I'd asked him to call the mayor, it wouldn't have worked,” Stone said. “Come on, Dino, who else do I know who's connected?”

“You could have told him to call me.”

“A guy's about to shoot us, and I should tell him to call a cop?”

“I've known Vito since we were kids. He's a coupla years older than me, but we went to the same school. He pulled a bunch of bigger kids off me once and slapped them around, so I always felt I owed him. Once, when he was in a tight spot, I had a chance to help, and he's been grateful. Here's some advice: If you know him now, next time you get in trouble with some wise guys, tell them to call Vito, instead of Eduardo. Not one in a hundred of them knows Eduardo, but they all know Vito, and they don't mess with him.”

“I guess that's good advice,” Stone said. He turned to Lance. “I hear you're trying to recruit Holly to your organization on a more full-time basis.”

“
Stone
!” Holly hissed.

“It's all right, Holly,” Lance said. “Stone's family.”

“I am?” Stone asked.

“You signed up, didn't you?”

“I guess I did at that. Holly, maybe Lance is the guy to help you with your little money problem.”

Holly turned red. “Stone, you'd better shut up right now.”

“Are you in need of funds, Holly?” Lance asked, sounding concerned.

“No, I am not,” Holly replied.

“Far from it,” Stone chipped in.

“I don't understand,” Lance said.

“It's better that way,” Holly replied.

“Come on, Holly,” Stone said, “who better than Lance?”

“Yes,” Lance said, “who better than me? If you have a problem, I'd like to help.”

Holly looked around the table.

“Maybe I'd better go to the john,” Dino said, half rising.

“Sit down, Dino. All right, I'll tell you about it.” Holly went through her story. Everyone was rapt, except Stone, who seemed to have trouble not laughing.

When she had finished, Lance patted her hand. “Don't worry about it, my dear, we'll think of something.”

“Think of what?” Stone asked.

“Yes, what?” Holly echoed.

Lance looked around to be sure he wasn't being overheard. “You have a large sum of money obtained from an illegal operation—money you didn't report. You want to get rid of it in a, shall we say, profitable manner?”

“I suppose.”

“This is called money laundering, and there are a number of ways to do it.”

“I'll bet,” Stone said.

“All of them carry a certain amount of risk,” Lance explained. “Perhaps the safest thing to do is for you to get the case to me, and I'll deal with it. After a little time has passed, you'll have a sizeable sum deposited in an overseas bank account. You'll receive a credit card in the mail, and from then on, you charge whatever you wish
to the card. You'll have to keep track of what you spend in your head, because you don't want the mailman bringing a monthly statement, do you?”

“That's it?” Holly asked.

“That's it.”

“It sounds too simple.”

“Well, you'll have to pay a service charge on the original deposit, say, ten percent.”

“To whom?”

“It's better you don't know. But you'll still have more than five million in the bank, should you ever need it, and it would be invested in any manner you wish.”

“So, I'd be earning money?”

“I should think at least an eight percent return.”

“Nice.”

“Of course, you'll owe taxes on what you earn, but you can invest in tax-free municipals. You can buy just about anything with a credit card these days—a car, for instance—but you'd want to stay away from buying anything that would create a legal record, like a house.”

“A car creates a legal record,” Holly said.

“Not an important one. It wouldn't show up on your credit report, for instance, if you didn't finance it.”

“There you are,” Stone said. “Problem solved.”

“Not exactly,” she replied. “I've still got to get it to Lance.”

“Put it in your car and drive it up here,” Stone said.

“Or in your airplane.”

“Forget that. I'm not getting involved. I have a law license to protect.”

“Do it while you've still got a badge to flash,” Lance said, “in case you're stopped by a highway patrolman who wants to search your car.”

“I'll think about it,” Holly said. She turned to Stone. “Can we go home now?”

“Sure.”

Dino spoke up. “I want to go with you to Vito's place tomorrow.”

“Why?” Stone asked.

“You'll be better off with me there.”

“Okay, sure.”

“Good with me,” Holly said.

“And don't you go into that store until I say so.”