“Now listen to me very carefully, because this is the last time you and I are going to speak, on the phone or in person. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Herbie replied, sounding contrite.

“I’m going to work on getting the charges against you reduced—”

“Reduced? I’ll still have to go to jail.”

“Shut up, Herbie.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m going to work on getting the charges against you reduced to something that will get you probation instead of time.”

“But I’ll still have a record,” Herbie protested.

“Shut up, Herbie.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have any prior arrests or convictions, and you’re gainfully employed, so we can probably get you unsupervised probation, so you won’t have to report in every week.”

“That would be nice.”

“It would be very fucking nice, seeing that the alternative is probably five to seven for the manslaughter charge.”

“When do I get paid?” Herbie asked.

“PAID!!!!????” Stone screamed down the phone. “Paid for what?”

“Well, I did the job, sort of,” Herbie said.

“Yeah? Then where are the photographs of two people doing disgusting things to each other?”

“Well, my camera is still in the apartment,” Herbie pointed out. “I could go back and—”

“Don’t you go anywhere near that apartment!” Stone shouted.

“Could you stop yelling at me, please?” Herbie said, sounding wounded. “It’s not very polite. And could I point out that my camera is brand-new, and the warranty is registered in my name, and if the cops find it, they can trace it back to me?”

Stone was momentarily taken aback by the appearance of a rational thought from Herbie, but not for long. “They’ve already arrested you for being in the apartment. What difference does it make if they trace the camera back to you?”

“Oh,” Herbie said. “Right.”

“Leave the camera to me,” Stone said. “Where do you work?”

“At Walgreens, in Brooklyn.” Herbie gave him the address and phone number of the drugstore.

“Listen,” Stone said. “If I can get that camera back, and if the pictures are worth anything, and if you never, ever call me again for any reason, then you’ll get paid.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Herbie said, seeming to sense it was the best deal he was going to get.

“Did Tony Levy give you his card?”

“Who?”

“The lawyer who got you bailed out last night.”

“Oh, him. Yeah.”

“If you have any further problems with the police, call Levy, not me. He’ll deal with the situation.”

“Okay.”

“How much was your bail?”

“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

‘ ’What?”

“That’s what the judge said.”

“Oh, shit,” Stone muttered. “If you run, Herbie, I’ll hunt you down and deal with you myself. You hear me?”

“I hear you.”

“Did Levy explain the conditions of your bail?”

“Well, yeah.”

“See that you follow those conditions to the letter.”

“All right.”