Stone saw the flash of a gold badge on his belt as he drew back to hit the man again. There was a blackjack in his hand.

“Hold it!” Stone shouted.

The man froze for a moment, then turned toward Stone. “Did you say something to me?”

“I said hold it,” Stone said more quietly.

“Stay out of this, you dumb son of a bitch,” the man said.

“That’s an illegal weapon in your hand, Detective,” Stone said. “If you hit him with it, I’ll see that you spend the night in jail.”

Out of the corner of his eye Stone saw Fred get out of the car and unbutton his jacket. He raised a hand, motioning him to stop.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the cop said. “I’m a police officer, I can do whatever I want to this guy.”

“Do you have a warrant?” Stone asked.

“I don’t need a warrant to use this on the guy”—he held up the blackjack—“and I’ll use it on you, too, if you don’t shut the fuck up and get out of my face.”

“Take a look at this,” Stone said, taking a gold badge from his pocket and holding it up. “Let me read it for you. It says ‘Detective First Grade.’ I’ll bet yours says ‘third grade.’”

The cop backed away a step. “You don’t look like a cop to me,” he said.

“You mean because I’m not fat and ugly and wielding an illegal weapon?” Stone reached out and took the blackjack from him.

“Hey,” the cop said.

“Ryan,” his partner said, tugging at his sleeve, “back off.”

“What is this man charged with?” Stone asked.

“I haven’t done anything!” the man said.

“Come on, what has he done?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Stone turned to the man. “Sir, I’m an attorney. Do you wish to have an attorney to represent you in this matter?”

“Yes, yes, I do.”

“Come on, Detective, what is my client charged with?”

“You said you was a cop.”

“No, I just showed you my badge. I’m a retired cop.”

“All right, give me my, ah, persuader, and we’ll go.”

“No,” Stone said. “What precinct are you out of?”

“The Three-Five South.”

“Let’s see, your precinct commander is Captain O’Donnell, right? Why don’t we get him out of bed and have a chat with him right now. Or, if you prefer, we can meet tomorrow morning in the commissioner’s office and see what he has to say about this.” He held up the blackjack.

“Look, mister, we don’t want any trouble,” the cop said.

“Then why are you still here?” Stone asked.

The two men got into their car and drove away. Stone turned to the man, who appeared to be in his sixties and Hispanic. “Are you all right?”