ld you leave that little creep alone in my house? He’s probably hocked everything I own.”
“No, he hasn’t; I locked him in when I left last night, so he couldn’t get any of your stuff out of the house. Anyway, he seems to sleep most of the time.”
“Did you drug him?”
“I would have, but he didn’t seem to need it. He’s probably exhausted after his ordeal in the attic.”
“Did he have any cuts on his body?”
“Not on the parts of his body I saw, but I didn’t do a full inspection.”
“He’s lying, the little bastard! He said he jumped clean through a glass window and fell from an attic, and yet he doesn’t have a mark on him!”
A voice came from the doorway. “I’ve got a nick right here, on my elbow, that I used to break the window.” Herbie was standing there in one of Stone’s Sea Island cotton nightshirts.
“Take off the nightshirt,” Stone commanded.
“Huh? Right in front of the lady?”
“She’s not that much of a lady, so take it off.”
Herbie lifted the nightshirt over his head. There was some bruising around his ribs.
“Turn around,” Stone said.
“Please,” Joan echoed.
There were bruises on his back, too.
“All right, so you got pounded a little; how come no cuts from the glass and the fall?”
“Well, the window was actually open, and it was only a short fall to the canvas.”
“Canvas?”
“They had a big piece of canvas draped over some stuff, and it broke my fall. I sprained my ankle, though, when I went over the fence and landed on the sidewalk.”
“How did you get here?”
“I sprinted down the block, ignoring the intense pain from my ankle, went into a subway station, jumped the turnstile and here I am! Can I put the nightshirt on again?”
“No. Go get your clothes on and give the nightshirt to Helene, in the kitchen. You’re leaving here immediately.”
“But where am I going to go?” Herbie wailed.
“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t care where you go?”
Herbie turned to leave the room.
“Wait a minute,” Stone said.
“Huh?”
“Put on the nightshirt to save Joan’s modesty. Joan, get me Bernie Finger.”
Joan picked up the phone on Stone’s desk and dialed. “He’s on the line,” she said.
Stone picked up the phone. “Bernie? Let’s do the depositions today. Three o’clock at your place?”