boggled. He buzzed Joan again.
'Yes?'
'Joan, call my broker and tell him to sell a hundred thousand dollars of stocks, and to minimize the tax consequences. Have him wire the funds to our checking account immediately, and draw a cashier's check for fifty thousand dollars, payable to Billy Bob. Then send the following letter to Billy Bob Barnstormer at the address we have for him: 'Dear Mr. Barnstormer, this firm is unable to continue to offer you legal representation. We enclose a cashier's check in the amount of $50,000, representing a return of your retainer.' Send it Express Mail, return receipt requested, and get it out today.'
'As you wish.'
'And ask the bank to let you know when the cashier's check is paid.'
'Okeydokey'
Stone called Dino.
'Bacchetti.'
'This is a confidential informant,' Stone said. 'Listen carefully: Call Warren Buffett's office again, but this time, get the number from Omaha information.'
'Okay,' Dino said. 'You want to have dinner?'
'Why not?'
'Elaine's, nine o'clock?'
'Sure.'
15
STONE WAS HALFWAY through his first drink when Dino arrived and sat down. 'So, what's this confidential informant crap?' he asked.
'If anybody ever asks where you got that information, I want you to be able to say, truthfully, that you got it from a confidential informant.'
'Well, that's very lawyerly of you,' Dino said, signaling a waiter for a drink.
'It's what I do. Did you call Berkshire Hathaway?'
'I did.'
'And?'
'And we've both been had. Warren Buffett has never heard of Billy Bob.'
'You could say that. Something else I can tell you, since I no longer represent Billy Bob, is that you should go on the Internet, do a Google search for one Rodney Peeples, and pay particular attention to the hits you will get on a used-car dealer in San Mateo, California, and a firm of accountants, Peeples and Strange, in Enid, Oklahoma.'
'Why?'
'I think you will find the experience rewarding.'
'Oh, for fuck's sake, Stone, stop talking like Alistair Cooke and tell me what's going on.'
'You will find that the Rodney Peeples of San Mateo and the Rodney Peeples of Enid are both Billy Bob Barnstormer. Or vice versa. Or they're all somebody else.'
'Oh? So Billy Bob made a complete fucking schmuck out of you, then?'
'Not quite. He paid me fifty thousand dollars for my trouble.'
'So, you're only a schmuck, then.'
'Except that I gave him back his fifty grand and told him to get lost.'
'So, you are, after all, a complete fucking schmuck.'
'One could say that.'
'What's Billy Bob's game?' Dino asked. 'Besides murder, I mean.'
'I have no idea what his game is, but what do you mean, murder?'
'I mean the ME came back with a definite time of death of between eight a.m. and noon.'
'When Billy Bob was still in the house?'
'Correct.'
'Then I'm off the hook?'
'Not exactly. You haven't yet proved that the two of you weren't in it together.'
'You mean, you think that Tiffany may have been strangled by one of Billy Bob's hands and one of mine, working in concert?'
'Could be something like that.'
'My God, the entire Nineteenth Precinct detective squad, along with its lieutenant, is going to have to repeat junior detective school.'
'We are more in the business of implicating than exonerating.'
'Is there a warrant for Billy Bob yet?'
'First thing in the morning; I only got the ME's verdict an hour ago. Do you know where he is?'
'No, but if you will telephone Mr. Barnstormer's former attorney's secretary tomorrow morning, she might give you his address and phone number in Dallas.'
'Will he be there?'
'I have not been vouchsafed that information.'
'There you go again-what is this,
'Or you could try him in Enid, Oklahoma, or San Mateo, California.'
'Well, I have to say that Billy Bob, or whoever he is, is the most interesting co-murderer I've run across for a long time.'
'You want my theory?'
'I'm going to hear it, whether I want to or not.'
'I think his murdering Tiffany, or Hilda, or whatever her name was, was more in the way of an accident.'
'You mean you subscribe to that theory about strangling adding punch to the orgasm?'
'Either that, or they got rough, and he went too far. He doesn't strike me as a cold-blooded killer.'
'Guys like Billy Bob strike you as whatever they want to. He's a con man, a pro, and guys like that will go to great lengths to protect whatever identity they've chosen for themselves, up to and including murder.'
'You mean you think she got hold of his wallet or his passport or something and figured out he wasn't who he said he was?'
'Yeah, or maybe he confided in her, and she threatened to turn him in.'
'A little blackmail?'
'Hookers have been know to indulge in that sport.'
Stone glanced toward the front door in time to see Tiff enter. He waved her back to the table.
'Hi, there,' he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
'Hi, back. Hey, Dino.'
'Good evening.'
'Good to see you,' Stone said, trying and failing to remember if he'd invited her to Elaine's.
'I thought you might be here, and I didn't have anything else to do tonight.'
'So the AG is done with you?'
'Not by a long shot, but he's on his way back to D.C., thank God.' The waiter approached, and she ordered a drink.
'What was the panic about?'
'More enthusiasm than panic, but, of course, I can't tell you.'
'I'll trade information with you,' Stone said.
'What have you got to trade?'
'Info about your friend Rodney Peeples.'
'I thought you didn't represent him.'
'Technically, I didn't; however I've come into some information about your Mr. Peeples that connects him to
