“Nothing is wrong,” she replied. “I just have to talk to you.”
She took a swig of her drink, as if she needed it.
“I’m listening,” Herbie said.
“I don’t think we should go on seeing each other,” she said.
“Do you want to tell me why?”
“You’ve been promoted at the firm, and I want to be promoted. I don’t think it would help my chances if we became an item of office gossip.”
“I don’t think anyone knows,” he said.
“Joan knows, and that means Stone knows, and that may mean that Eggers knows.”
“Stone wouldn’t mention it to Eggers.”
“I hope you’re right. I just don’t think it does either of us any good for anyone at the firm to know we’re seeing each other.”
Herbie shrugged. “Well, as far as I know, there’s no rule against it.”
“Still,” she said, “you must see that it’s not good for either of us.”
“I won’t argue with you,” Herbie said gently. “Now, let’s order some dinner.”
“There’s probably somebody from the firm in this restaurant right now,” she said, tossing off the rest of her drink and standing up. She put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Herbie,” she said.
“Please don’t be concerned,” he said, and then he watched her leave.
He waved at a waiter and ordered the veal chop. He didn’t have a girlfriend anymore, but it didn’t seem to have hurt his appetite.
Herbie got a cab home, and as he walked into his apartment, the phone was ringing. He sat down in the living room and picked up. “Hello?”
“Is this Herbert Fisher?” a low female voice said.
“Speaking.”
“My name is Carson Cullers,” she said. “I don’t know if that means anything to you.”
Herbie thought for a moment; the name sounded familiar. “Dink Brennan’s friend,” he said. “Washington, Connecticut.”
“That’s right. New York, really, Washington is just a weekend place. I live at Park and Seventy-first.”
“Then we’re neighbors. I’m just a couple blocks away.”
“I wonder if we could have a drink sometime?” she said. “I’d like to talk to you about Dink.”
“Sure,” Herbie said. “Would you like to come here now?”
“That would be great,” she said.
He gave her the address. “It’s the penthouse,” he said.
“I’ll be there shortly,” she replied, and hung up.
This was interesting, Herbie thought. Why would Dink Brennan’s girlfriend be calling him? He’d already had a call from Parker Mosely, Dink’s roommate, and now this? Was this some sort of campaign to persuade him that Dink should be released?
He got up and walked around the living room, straightening up a bit. Ten minutes later, the doorman rang, and Herbie asked that she be sent up. He answered the door to find a tall, slender, elegantly dressed young woman standing in the foyer, in a nearly sheer dress, looking a little nervous. “Come in, Carson,” he said, and showed her into the living room. “Have a seat. What can I get you to drink?”
“Can you make a vodka martini?” she asked.
“Of course.” Herbie went to the bar and began to put that together. Since Allison had opted out of his life earlier in the evening, he felt glad to have someone there.
Then he brought himself up short. Hang on, this was his client’s son’s girlfriend, he thought. Better be careful.
He returned to the sofa with her martini and his cognac on a tray and started to take a chair.
“Please,” she said, patting the sofa next to her. “Sit here.”
Herbie had already had a drink and half a bottle of wine, and the girl was looking very good. What the hell, he thought. “Give me a minute, will you? I have to go to the powder room.”
“Of course,” she said.
Herbie got up and left.
Carson opened her purse, took out a prescription bottle, and shook two small pills into her hand. She put them on the glass coffee table, took a razor blade from her purse, and chopped them into powder, then held Herbie’s brandy snifter at the edge of the table and raked the powder into his glass. She stirred it with a finger, watching it dissolve, then licked her finger and put the glass back on the table.
Herbie came back from the powder room, sat down beside her, and raised his glass. “Cheers,” he said.
Carson smiled. “Cheers, indeed!” She took a gulp of her martini and rested her hand on his thigh.
“So, tell me about Dink,” Herbie said, taking a sip of brandy.
“As far as I’m concerned, Dink is history,” Carson said. “I’m sick of his behavior. I’m here because he told me about you, and I thought you sounded interesting.” She moved her hand up his thigh a bit.
“Well, that’s flattering,” Herbie replied, taking another sip. He rested his head on the back of the sofa cushion and felt her hand move up farther.
“What are you looking for there?” he asked, sipping more brandy.
She moved her hand up to his crotch. “This,” she said.
“Well, now that you’ve found it, what’s next?”
She unzipped his fly and took out his penis.
Herbie felt drowsy. He took another pull on the brandy and set the glass on the coffee table.
She teased him erect, then took him into her mouth.
31
Detective Third Grade Vivian DeCarlo walked into the emergency room at Lenox Hill Hospital and looked around for her partner, Rose Mahon, who was supposed to meet her there to interview a hit-and-run victim. No sign of Rosie.
“Hey, Viv,” a young female resident in green scrubs said to her.
“Hey, Liz,” Viv replied. “How’s it going?”
“Now that you mention it, I’ve just examined a rape victim, and you might want to talk to her. She’s behind the curtain, there, in exam one.”
“What’s her story?”
“She says some guy got her drunk and raped her. She wasn’t wearing any panties, but there was no bruising, either internal or external, and she didn’t seem all that drunk, either.”
“You think she’s lying?”
“I’ve seen a couple of dozen rape victims in here, and she doesn’t fit the mold. She’s not crying, not even looking upset, and, like I said, not a mark on her. Her first name is Carson.”
“Did you do a rape kit?”
“Yep. I found no semen in her vagina, but there was some on what pubic hair she has left after a major wax job. I’ll get you the kit.”
Viv walked over and pulled the curtain back a few inches. “Carson?”
The girl was stretched out on the exam table, and she lifted her head a bit. “Yes?”
Viv walked into the cubicle and pulled the curtain closed behind her. “I’m Detective DeCarlo. Dr. Edwards tells me you’ve been hurt.”
Carson put her head back onto the table. “I’m not hurt, just raped, that’s all.”
Viv pulled up a chair, sat down, and got out her notebook. “Tell me what happened.”
“I went over to this guy’s apartment for a drink and had a martini. He was doing coke and drinking brandy.
