Stone elicited his name and address and made sure the stenographer got it down right. “What is your occupation, Mr. Dattila?”

“I manage a coffee shop.”

“Do you also own the coffee shop?”

“No.”

“Do you own the building in which the coffee shop operates?”

“No.”

“Do you own a corporation that owns these properties or do you own them through a third party?”

“Objection,” Finger said. “Mr. Dattila declines to answer on the grounds of possible self-incrimination.” He turned to the stenographer. “In the future, I’ll just say ‘Fifth’ when objecting on those grounds.”

“It’s not a crime to own a building or a coffee shop, Mr. Dattila.”

“The objection stands.”

“Mr. Dattila, do you also directly or through other parties operate a gambling enterprise?”

“Fifth!” Finger said. “You surprise me, Stone.”

“Mr. Dattila, does anyone owe you money?”

Dattila looked at Finger.

“You may answer,” Finger said.

“Maybe.”

“Where do you keep the record of who owes you money?” Stone asked.

Dattila silently tapped his head with a forefinger.

“Let the record show that the witness tapped his forehead. Do you have a written record of those who owe you money?”

“No,” Dattila replied.

“How much money does Herbert Fisher owe you?”

“Who?”

“Herbert Fisher, the plaintiff in this lawsuit. How much does he owe you?”

“Fifth!” Finger said.

“That was a little slow, Mr. Finger. This is material information, and you can’t object to it.”

“I’m not sure,” Dattila said.

“Does the figure twenty-four thousand dollars ring a bell?”

“Could be, maybe.”

“What means have you employed to collect Mr. Fisher’s debt?”

“I might have had a friend ask him, you know, nice.”

“Does nice include having him dragged out of a restaurant and beaten on the sidewalk?”

“Objection,” Finger said. “Irrelevant.”

“It’s perfectly relevant, as it’s part of the basis of our suit.”

“Maybe somebody insisted a little,” Dattila said, “without my personal knowledge.”

“Mr. Dattila, after repeated, unsuccessful attempts to collect the debt from Mr. Fisher, what steps did you take?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

“Did you order two of your employees, namely Cheech and Gus, who are sitting outside in the reception room, to kidnap and torture Mr. Fisher?”

“Me?” Dattila looked shocked.

“Answer the question, Mr. Dattila.”

“I wouldn’t never do nothing like that.”

“Did you enter the room where Cheech and Gus were torturing Mr. Fisher and order them to, quote, ‘kill him slow’?”

“I’m afraid you’ve got me mixed up with some other guy.” Dattila turned to Finger. “Can I go now?”

Finger turned to Stone. “I don’t think you’re getting anywhere here.”

“I’ll make the charge of perjury at an appropriate time,” Stone said. “No further questions, until I get him on the witness stand in court.”

“Then I think we’re done here,” Finger said. “I’ll call you, Carmine.” The two men shook hands, and Dattila left.