Stone arrived at Bernie Finger’s office fifteen minutes late, just to annoy him. As he waited for the receptionist to announce him he looked around Finger’s waiting room. Everything was tasteful but with an extra coat of gloss, which pretty much described Bernard Finger, Esquire, Stone thought.

A shapely young woman materialized before him. “Mr. Barrington? Will you please come with me?”

Stone resisted the riposte and, with pleasure, followed the young woman. He was led to a large conference room, where Bernie Finger and a younger man awaited. The huge table was completely bare.

“Morning, Stone,” Finger said, as if they were just meeting for coffee. “Would you like something? Coffee? Tea?”

“Thanks, no; I’ve already had coffee this morning.” He set his briefcase on the table.

“Allow me to introduce my colleague, Samuel Teich,” Finger said, waving a hand at the man next to him.

The table was too wide for Stone to reach across and shake hands, so he just waved. “Hi, there.”

“Sam is one of our bright young men around here,” Finger said, “and, following your advice from last evening, he’s going to represent me.”

Stone regarded Sam Teich for a moment. He was on the small side, with thick, black, close-cropped hair and dark eyes under heavy eyebrows. Stone thought he could pass for either an Arab terrorist or a Mossad agent. He didn’t doubt that young Mr. Teich was bright, perhaps even brighter than advertised, and he was happy that Finger had come so well armed.

“All right, Mr. Barrington,” Teich said, “let’s get to it. What does Mrs. Finger want?”

“It’s very simple, Mr. Teich,” Stone replied evenly. “She wants the Fifth Avenue apartment and the house in the Hamptons. Bernie can have Park Avenue and Telluride. She also wants the six and a half million dollars from the sale of her company, plus interest at eight percent a year, and half of the rest of Bernie’s assets. Oh, and all her legal costs.”

Sam Teich permitted himself a tiny smile. “Oh, and is that all?”

Finger spoke up. “Not half my blood?”

Teich quieted his client with a raised hand. “Mr. Barrington, unless you can make a reasonable proposal, I’m afraid we’re going to have to see you in court, and then Mrs. Finger will have to see her personal life laid bare. I don’t expect she’s told you about her personal life, has she?”

“Mr. Teich…”

“Please…call me Sam.”