Desperate Measures
- Автор: Вудс Стюарт
- Серия: Stone Barrington #47
- Год: 2018
- Язык: английский
- Год: G.P. Putnam's Sons
- ISBN: 978-0-7352-1922-9
- Жанр: Триллеры
Электронная книга - «Desperate Measures». Краткое содержание книги:
“Then Alfie will put his expert on,” Dino said, “and when he gets through, the jury will be so screwed up that their own confusion will constitute reasonable doubt.”
“Well, at least it’s a hundred-percent certainty that it’s not my fingerprint,” Stone said with some satisfaction.
“Well... no, sorta,” Dino replied.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean they also found a print on the phone that the computer says is one hundred percent yours.”
“But...”
Dino raised a hand to stop him. “But you used that phone to call nine-one-one, didn’t you?”
Stone slapped his forehead. “I should have used my cell phone.”
“No, you did the right thing. Now they have a recording of the call with a time stamp on it, which, along with your fingerprint, backs up your story.”
“Well, I suppose that should be a relief,” Stone replied.
“Not really,” Dino said.
“Why is it not a relief?”
“Because Alfie is going to tell the jury that, while the partial has only a seventy-one-percent chance of belonging to his client, the police have a full print on the phone that has a hundred-percent chance of being yours. How do you think the jury is going to react?”
“They’re not going to convict me,” Stone said.
“Maybe not, but every defense attorney in a homicide case is looking for an alternative suspect to his client, and even if they won’t convict you, they won’t convict Donald Trask, either.” Dino put down his glass. “Let’s get some lunch, you’re looking a little pale.”
“I am not pale,” Stone protested, following Dino to a table where waiters held chairs for both of them.
“Just be glad you’re not on the stand testifying right now,” Dino said, sitting down and snapping open his heavy linen napkin and then addressing the waiting maître d’. “I’ll have the seared foie gras and the strip steak, medium rare.” He indicated Stone. “He looks as though he’d like just the clear broth.”
“I’ll have the bruschetta and the spaghetti carbonara,” Stone said quickly.
“If you’re sure you can keep it down,” Dino responded.
“You know,” Stone said, “if you had two detectives on this who were as smart as Muldoon, instead of just one, they would already have cleared this case.”
“Well, Calabrese is young, but he’s not stupid,” Dino said.
“I’ll tell you what they need to do,” Stone said. “They need to drag Donald Trask downtown and put him in a lineup so the Phoenix driver can point him out.”
“That’s a big risk because the driver has already said he probably couldn’t identify his passenger. If he fails to pick out Trask, then Alfie Goddard will have another point for the jury to consider. Why don’t you come up with an idea that helps us instead of Alfie?”
“Okay, how about getting the two bartenders at P. J. Clarke’s who were on duty that night at the lineup, too. They’ll fail to pick Trask because he wasn’t there that night.”
“Trask’s story is that he sat at a table, not the bar, and ordered his beer from there,” Dino said. “And not picking somebody out of a lineup is not incriminating.”
“How many waiters were working that night?”
“Twelve, and they were run off their feet that night.”
“They could have picked out you or me, if we had been there,” Stone said.
“That’s because we’re in there twice a week and we tip well,” Dino pointed out. “Trask says he’s there, maybe once a month. You know how many people go in and out of that joint in a month?”
“No, how many?”
“I’ve no idea,” Dino replied, “but Alfie Goddard will find out, and he’ll use it against us at trial.”
Their first course arrived, and Stone ate only half of his bruschetta.
“What’s the matter?” Dino asked, pointing at the other half of the bruschetta.
“I’m on a diet,” Stone replied.
Dino speared the remaining piece with his fork and ate it in two bites.
“You’re a pig,” Stone said.
“Yeah, and I’m a hungry pig,” Dino replied.
“You know, Dino, you sound like you’re more on Trask’s side than mine.”
“I’m on the side of the firm of Muldoon and Calabrese,” Dino replied, “and every time your name comes up, they look hungrier and hungrier.”
48
It was raining again, but Stone didn’t have to look for a cab because Dino’s official SUV was standing by in the garage. They got into the backseat, the driver opened the garage door with his remote, and they drove into the street. They had driven halfway home, down Second Avenue, when the driver pulled over and stopped.
“Drop Barrington off at his house,” Dino said to the driver.
“Sure, Commissioner,” the driver said, putting a finger to his ear to listen to the radio. He turned around. “Commissioner, you’re wanted at Gracie Mansion ASAP.”
As he spoke, Dino’s phone buzzed. He answered it. “Yes, sir,” he said, then hung up and spoke to his driver. “Okay,” he said, “let’s get to Gracie Mansion. Hop out, Stone.”
“Can’t I come?” Stone asked, looking outside at the pouring rain.
“You’re not invited,” Dino said, reaching across Stone and opening the door on his side. A passing car nearly took off the door. “Beat it, pal.”
“Into traffic?” Stone asked. He crawled across Dino and let himself out on that side, stepping into ankle-deep water in the gutter.
“Is that better?” Dino asked.
“Oh, shut up,” Stone yelled, but the door had already slammed shut. The SUV was speeding away, its lights on. He ran across the sidewalk and found an awning to stand under while he waited for a cab. He saw one coming, but the shop door behind him burst open, and a woman ran across the sidewalk and threw herself in front of the taxi.
“Hey!” he yelled at the woman as she got in.
“Bye!” she yelled back and slammed the door. The cab’s overhead light turned off, and it drove away.
Stone thought about calling Fred, but he knew as soon as he did a cab would arrive. He stood there for another ten minutes before a cruising black town car pulled to the curb, and the window slid down. “Where you headed?” the driver yelled.
“Turtle Bay!” Stone yelled back. “Ten bucks!”
“Thirty!” the driver yelled.
“Twenty!”
“Thirty!” the driver yelled.
Stone ran across the sidewalk and dove into the town car.
“Up front,” the driver said, rubbing his fingers together.
Stone dug out his cash. “I’ve only got a fifty,” he said. “You got change?”
“Nope. I just started work. What’s it gonna be, pal?”
Stone gave him the fifty. “I’ll get change when we get there.”
After fifteen minutes of dangerous driving, the car pulled up to Stone’s house. “Hang on,” he said, “I’ll get some change.”
He got out and ran for the office door, then rang the bell. The town car drove away. “Hey!” Stone yelled at him.
Joan opened the door. “Hey, yourself,” she said, then pushed a finger into his lapel. “You’re soaking wet.”
Stone went inside and shook like a dog. Bob, his Labrador retriever, came over, sniffed at him, and backed away. “We went in Dino’s car,” he said, “so I didn’t take a coat or an umbrella, then Dino got a call and abandoned me.”
“Hang on,” Joan said, “the phone’s ringing.”
Stone shrugged off his sodden jacket and hung it on a hat rack; his trousers followed.
“It’s Dino,” Joan said, “on one.”