Read Online Fresh Disasters by Stuart Woods - Free Book Online
Authors: Stuart Woods
Tags: Fiction, General, detective, Suspense, Mystery & Detective, Suspense fiction, Mystery, Barrington; Stone (Fictitious Character), Private Investigators, Detective and Mystery Stories, Legal Stories, Mystery Fiction, Fiction - Mystery, Mystery & Detective - General, New York, New York (State), New York (N.Y.), Private Investigators - New York (State) - New York, Woods; Stuart - Prose & Criticism
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they’re going to be married as soon as he can get a divorce.”
“I’ll bet he tells her that.”
She laughed. “Marilyn says he loves to make love out on their terrace.”
“Right out in the open?”
“Yes, and there are taller buildings all around them.”
“Then they must enjoy exhibitionism.”
“I guess. I’m hungry.”
“What would you like?”
“You made me think of oysters,” she said.
“It’ll be more fun watching you eat them than watching Bernie.” They ordered.
T wo hours later they stood on the curb, looking for a taxi.
“Can I tempt you back to my house?”
“I’ve already seen your etchings,” she said, “along with everything else. It’ll have to wait until next time.”
“Is tomorrow too soon for next time?”
“Yes. Call me and we’ll figure it out.” A cab stopped.
“I’ll drop you at home,” Stone said.
“That would be inconvenient,” she said, getting into the cab.
“Where do you live?” Stone asked, but she had already closed the door, and the cab was moving.
Stone watched her drive away, regretting her reluctance to come home with him. He’d have to work on that.
14
T he next morning, Joan buzzed Stone. “It’s Herbert Fisher,” she said.
“Tell him to get lost.”
“He insists on talking to you. Says it’s urgent; his life is in danger.”
“God, I hope so,” Stone said, punching at the flashing light. “I told you not to call me, Herbie.”
“Stone, you gotta help me,” Herbie panted. “They’re trying to kill me.”
Stone sighed. “Okay, Herbie, who’s trying to kill you?”
“My bookie, I think. Last night when I came home there were two guys in a black Lincoln waiting for me. I had to run like hell for nearly a mile before I lost them in an alley.”
“Where did you spend the night?”
“At my girlfriend’s.”
“ You have a girlfriend, Herbie?”
“Sure, doesn’t everybody?”
“Then what were you doing with those two hookers at Elaine’s?”
“Oh, that was a celebration.”
That did not compute. “Are you at your girlfriend’s now, Herbie?”
“No, I’m in a candy store. She made me leave when she left for work.”
“She’s afraid to leave you in her apartment?”
“Well, we had this little problem once, with some money.”
“You stole money from her?”
“I borrowed it, but she noticed before I could pay her back.”
“I’m surprised she let you in the door last night.”
“Well, she won’t tonight, and I need someplace to hide from those guys.”
“Try one of your hookers.”
“Stone, can I stay at your house? You’ve got a lot of room.”
Stone thought fast. If he merely said no, Herbie would be on his doorstep in half an hour. “My house is the first place they’d look for you, Herbie; you wouldn’t be safe.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right. So where can I go?”
“Call your Uncle Bob.”
“Well, there’s kind of a problem there, too.”
“It seems there’s a problem with everybody who knows you, Herbie. Think of somebody who doesn’t know you well, and go there.”
“There isn’t anybody like that, Stone. You’ve gotta help me; I’m homeless!”
“That’s it, Herbie! Go to a homeless shelter! And don’t call me again.” Stone hung up.
Joan came into his office and laid a newspaper on his desk. “You’d better take a look at Page Six,” she said.
Stone picked up the Post. “Is this the thing you got in the paper?”
“Nope.” She tapped a finger on a boxed part of the page.
TWO LAWYERS IN BROUHAHA AT FOUR SEASONS
Well-known attorneys Bernard Finger and Stone Barrington had a not-too-pleasant lunch in the Grill Room yesterday. According to Finger, Barrington invited him to lunch and proposed some unethical conduct. When Finger refused and walked out in a huff, Barrington then told the management to charge the very expensive meal to Finger.
Barrington says it’s all a lie. (Not really. We were unable to contact him, but that’s what
“I’ll bet he tells her that.”
She laughed. “Marilyn says he loves to make love out on their terrace.”
“Right out in the open?”
“Yes, and there are taller buildings all around them.”
“Then they must enjoy exhibitionism.”
“I guess. I’m hungry.”
“What would you like?”
“You made me think of oysters,” she said.
“It’ll be more fun watching you eat them than watching Bernie.” They ordered.
T wo hours later they stood on the curb, looking for a taxi.
“Can I tempt you back to my house?”
“I’ve already seen your etchings,” she said, “along with everything else. It’ll have to wait until next time.”
“Is tomorrow too soon for next time?”
“Yes. Call me and we’ll figure it out.” A cab stopped.
“I’ll drop you at home,” Stone said.
“That would be inconvenient,” she said, getting into the cab.
“Where do you live?” Stone asked, but she had already closed the door, and the cab was moving.
Stone watched her drive away, regretting her reluctance to come home with him. He’d have to work on that.
14
T he next morning, Joan buzzed Stone. “It’s Herbert Fisher,” she said.
“Tell him to get lost.”
“He insists on talking to you. Says it’s urgent; his life is in danger.”
“God, I hope so,” Stone said, punching at the flashing light. “I told you not to call me, Herbie.”
“Stone, you gotta help me,” Herbie panted. “They’re trying to kill me.”
Stone sighed. “Okay, Herbie, who’s trying to kill you?”
“My bookie, I think. Last night when I came home there were two guys in a black Lincoln waiting for me. I had to run like hell for nearly a mile before I lost them in an alley.”
“Where did you spend the night?”
“At my girlfriend’s.”
“ You have a girlfriend, Herbie?”
“Sure, doesn’t everybody?”
“Then what were you doing with those two hookers at Elaine’s?”
“Oh, that was a celebration.”
That did not compute. “Are you at your girlfriend’s now, Herbie?”
“No, I’m in a candy store. She made me leave when she left for work.”
“She’s afraid to leave you in her apartment?”
“Well, we had this little problem once, with some money.”
“You stole money from her?”
“I borrowed it, but she noticed before I could pay her back.”
“I’m surprised she let you in the door last night.”
“Well, she won’t tonight, and I need someplace to hide from those guys.”
“Try one of your hookers.”
“Stone, can I stay at your house? You’ve got a lot of room.”
Stone thought fast. If he merely said no, Herbie would be on his doorstep in half an hour. “My house is the first place they’d look for you, Herbie; you wouldn’t be safe.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right. So where can I go?”
“Call your Uncle Bob.”
“Well, there’s kind of a problem there, too.”
“It seems there’s a problem with everybody who knows you, Herbie. Think of somebody who doesn’t know you well, and go there.”
“There isn’t anybody like that, Stone. You’ve gotta help me; I’m homeless!”
“That’s it, Herbie! Go to a homeless shelter! And don’t call me again.” Stone hung up.
Joan came into his office and laid a newspaper on his desk. “You’d better take a look at Page Six,” she said.
Stone picked up the Post. “Is this the thing you got in the paper?”
“Nope.” She tapped a finger on a boxed part of the page.
TWO LAWYERS IN BROUHAHA AT FOUR SEASONS
Well-known attorneys Bernard Finger and Stone Barrington had a not-too-pleasant lunch in the Grill Room yesterday. According to Finger, Barrington invited him to lunch and proposed some unethical conduct. When Finger refused and walked out in a huff, Barrington then told the management to charge the very expensive meal to Finger.
Barrington says it’s all a lie. (Not really. We were unable to contact him, but that’s what
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