“But Stone, didn’t you consider who you’re suing?”

“Bernie, it’s not like Carmine Dattila is the archbishop of New York; he’s a cheap hood—all right, an expensive hood—who makes his way in the world by preying on those weaker than he. He’s a piece of dog shit in the gutter, Bernie, and I have to wonder what kind of lawyer would represent him in a public courtroom.”

Finger went all pink, but his response was cut off by a tray of a dozen fat oysters set before him. He ate four of them, emptying them from the shell into his mouth, before he managed a reply. “All right, let’s just stay away from personal abuse here.”

“Stop insulting my intelligence, and I’ll stop insulting your client list.”

Finger ate four more oysters. “Look, let’s cut to the chase; I want to make a proposal!”

Stone dug into his salad. “So, propose.”

“What we’ve got here is your stubborn client and my stubborn client. Carmine is never, repeat never, going to cough up a thin dime of his own money to buy your client off.”

“That’s okay,” Stone said. “When I win in court, and I will, I’ll just attach everything connected with him—lock, stock and coffeehouse. I’m sure I can wring a nice piece of change out of his visible assets.”

“You think Carmine has assets? Jesus, Stone, not even his fucking pinkie ring is in his own name; even his clothes, for legal purposes, are borrowed. You’re talking about drilling a dry well, and that’s going to cost you a lot of time, and time, as any lawyer knows, is money.”

Stone’s Dover sole arrived and was expertly boned by the captain and placed before him. He took a bite and savored the flavor and the texture. “Speak, Bernie.”

“How’s about this. I’ve got a nice little personal-injury suit in my firm right now—my newest associate is handling it—and it’s going to settle for half a million, maybe six hundred thousand, before very long. How about I toss you the case; you settle it, take your cut and give Mr. Fisher whatever you think he’ll take, then pocket the rest. It’s quick, clean, and requires no outlay for my client or even, for that matter, his knowledge. Your client makes out, you make out, my client doesn’t get mad and I make it up on the next case!”