“You paid off your loan shark, too, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. I only owed him ninety grand.”
“How did he take it?”
“Not very well, either. Of course, he’s my bookie’s brother, so maybe it runs in the family. He told me I would have to go right on paying the vigorish, and I told him to go fuck himself.”
“Who are these people?”
“Joe and Moe Wildstein.”
“That sounds like two-thirds of the Three Stooges,” Stone said.
“Well, it’s not. They’re known around town as the Wild Boys.”
“Tell me, Herbie-not to digress-why did you decide to stop betting and borrowing with the Wildsteins?”
“The Wild Boys.”
“I stand corrected. Why?”
“I thought about it, and I think it’s because when you’re betting with money you don’t have, it doesn’t seem real.”
“Until they try to collect.”
“Well, yeah. But up until that moment, it’s like Monopoly money, you know? But if you’re laying a bet with money you actually have, it doesn’t seem like such a good idea. I mean, you could lose, you know?”
“I can guess,” Stone said. “Now let’s get back to your lawsuit against the, ah, Wild Boys. Is it both of them you want to sue?”
“They’re both trying to kill me,” Herbie replied.
“How do you know that?”
“You were in Elaine’s when they fired through the window.”
“Okay, Herbie, the bullets may have had your name on them-I buy that-but they didn’t have Moe and Joe’s names on them. The police would have noticed.”
“I just have a very strong feeling about it,” Herbie said.
“Herbie, being an attorney, as you sort of are, you do understand that your feeling, no matter how strong, is not admissible as evidence in a court of law.”
“Well, it ought to be,” Herbie said, “when I feel this strong about it.”
“Let’s go back a minute. Did you say that Moe-he’s the bookie, right?”
“Right.”
“Did he say he was going to kill you?”
“If I bet with anybody else,” Herbie said.
“Have you bet with anybody else?”
“I told you, I’m not betting anymore.”
“Then Moe has no motive for killing you.”
Herbie thought about this. “That’s important, isn’t it?”