“You think this is Carmine Dattila’s work?”

“Who else?”

“Well, I’m sure he’s not the only person Herbie owes money,” Stone said.

“Maybe not, but Dattila is probably the only lender with a personal army to do work like this.”

The two men stood in the apartment with but one thought between them.

“You think Herbie is still alive?” Cantor asked.

“I think that depends on whether Herbie can convince them that he has some hope of paying,” Stone said. “It’s time to call the Brooklyn cop shop.”

21

Stone sat on the arm of a formerly overstuffed chair in Herbie Fisher’s apartment and watched the two detectives pick their way around the apartment.

“Well, so far,” Detective One said, “this is vandalism, as I see it.”

Detective Two nodded in agreement.

“It’s kidnapping, possibly a homicide, with burglary,” Stone said.

Detective Two shook his head. “I don’t see anything missing.”

Stone sighed. “If you could see it, it wouldn’t be missing.”

“Huh?”

“Herbie had money here; you see any money?”

“Well, no, but how do we know there ever was any money here?”

“We have only the kidnap victim’s word for that, but it’s a start, don’t you agree?”

Cantor broke in. “Look, guys, my nephew has been missing for three days, and when we enter the apartment, we find this.” He waved an arm around.

“What can I tell you?” Detective One said.

“I’ll bet you could tell me a lot if the kidnapped person was a beautiful twenty-one-year-old model. I’ll bet your crime scene people would be all over this.”

“Here’s another thing,” Detective Two said. “You’ve disturbed this crime scene; it’s no longer any good.”

Stone and Cantor both held up both hands to show their latex gloves.

“We’re both retired from the job,” Cantor said. “You think we don’t know at least as much as you two assholes about crime scenes?”

“Now, speaking to us disrespectfully is not going to get you extra service,” Detective One said, sounding hurt.

“When I speak of you disrespectfully, it will be in the newspapers,” Stone said, “which is my next stop if you don’t get your ass in gear and put out a bulletin on Herbie. As we explained to you, he owes one of Carmine Dattila’s bookies a lot of money, so you already have a suspect.”

“Yeah, but that Dattila guy works out of Manhattan,” Detective Two said.

“He works wherever the fuck he wants to work,” Cantor pointed out, “and the kidnapping and burglary happened in Brooklyn, in, of all places, your precinct. And in just a minute, I’m going to be speaking to your captain.”

“While I’m speaking to the New York Post,” Stone added.

“Awright, awright,” Detective One said. “I’ll make out a report and get Mr. Fisher’s description circulated.”