“Maybe I could push somebody in front of a cab, then offer to represent him?”
“The problem is, Woodman and Weld has not been sending you much the past few months. Usually they’re good for something fairly juicy now and then. That’s how you support your preposterous lifestyle.”
“Preposterous? What’s preposterous about my lifestyle?”
“Well, let’s see: You live alone in this large house…”
“I earn my living here, too,” Stone pointed out.
“More or less. To continue, you have a country house in Connecticut; an armored, souped-up Mercedes in the garage; an airplane at Teterboro Airport; and a monthly bill at Elaine’s that could feed a company of starving marines. All of it soaks up money. About the only thing you couldn’t get along without is me.”
“You’re right, this is unpleasant.”
“Look, you rarely use the house in Washington, Connecticut. Why don’t you call Klemm Real Estate up there and put the place on the market? You bought it on a whim, and you’ve held onto it long enough to at least double your money.”
“Yeah, but it’s a good investment, better than the market, and anyway, I kind of like the idea of having a country place in Connecticut.”
“Well, it’s an awfully expensive way to get laid, Stone. Every time you take a woman up there for a few days, we get a thousand-dollar bill for drinks and dinners at the Mayflower Inn, and last time, you spent a couple of grand at a country auction, too. If it’s not that, it’s the annual Washington Antiques show. I don’t even want to think about what you spent there.”
Stone was growing very uncomfortable and was relieved to hear the phone ring.
Joan reached across the desk and picked up his phone. “Good morning, the Barrington Practice.” She listened for a moment, pressed the Hold button and handed Stone the phone. “Bill Eggers for you. Maybe he’s got some work for us?”
Stone took the phone and punched a button. “Good morning, Bill. How are you feeling today?”
“That’s a cruel question,” Eggers replied hoarsely.
“Was your wife’s dog happy with the bone?”
“He ran when he saw it.”
“And how did the partners’ meeting greet your proposal to represent Herbie Fisher in a suit against Carmine Dattila?”
“Actually, they greeted it very well,” Eggers said. “They immediately saw the public-relations benefit of going up against a mobster in a civil action.”
“You astonish me,” Stone said.
“What they didn’t like was the idea of the managing partner personally representing Mr. Fisher.”
“I can imagine,” Stone chuckled. “Which poor schmuck did you stick with the case?”
“I’m actually on the phone with him now.”
“Feel free to put me on hold while you break the news to him.”
“That won’t be necessary, since I’m speaking to him on this line.”
Stone was confused for a moment, but then the full import of what Eggers was saying struck him like a wall of icy water. “Now wait a minute, Bill…”
“I’m afraid I can’t wait, Stone. The case is yours, by unanimous vote of the partners.”
“Bill, I begged you not to take this ridiculous case.”
“Nevertheless,” Eggers said, “there was a feeling among the partners that the firm has not been getting its money’s worth from you lately, Stone.”
“Well, God knows you haven’t been throwing me any cases.”
“Consider this one thrown.”