Stone walked up to the Four Seasons to have lunch with Herbie Fisher. Over the past few years Herbie, who had been well-qualified as a juvenile delinquent not so long ago, had finished law school, gotten hired at Woodman & Weld as an associate, with Stone’s help, and had been such a rainmaker in the firm that he had made partner in record time. Stone joined Herbie at his regular table.

“Tell me, Stone,” Herbie said, “why don’t you have a regular table here?”

“Because you and Bill Eggers have regular tables. Why would I need one?”

“Fair enough.”

“I want to thank you for producing the paperwork for the Perado closing. I’d like you to go on backing me up. Pepe liked you, and he’s going to move to New York full-time.”

“I thought his son was going to move to New York.”

“Pepe liked New York a lot, and he says his son is a Texan, not a cosmopolitan. He’s already started looking for an apartment to buy.”

“How much work is the account going to be?”

“Quite a lot, I should think. Pepe’s going to start brewing his beer here, so we’ll be billing a lot of hours, what with one thing and another.”

“You’re on.”

“That’s great, Herbie. I’m out of town a lot, and I know the account will be in good hands. You seeing a lot of Heather?”

“Yeah. She hasn’t moved in, but I see her most evenings—and nights.”

“I liked her.”

“She’s very bright and very beautiful, and it’s hard to beat that combination. What’s this I hear about somebody wanting to kill you?”

“That’s over. The guy who wanted me dead was killed by the people he’d hired to do it, who are now fugitives from justice. I don’t anticipate further problems.”

“Would the guy have been Gino Parisi?”

“That’s right.”

“I knew him when I was a kid in the old neighborhood. He was always a real shit—his old man, too.”

“That sort of thing frequently runs in the family.”

“So the heat is off Pepe and his operation, too?”

“That’s right—clear sailing ahead.”

—

Frank Russo sat on the balcony of his condo in Miami Beach, reflecting on his good fortune in real estate investing. He had bought the apartment dirt cheap when the building was shuttered and unoccupied, during the last housing bust. The building was sold out now, and his condo was worth three times what he had paid for it.

Susie came out and joined him on the double chaise longue. “Frankie, I never knew you to sit around doing nothing. You’re not gonna get under my feet, are you?”

“Well, I’m new in town, and I don’t know much about the local action.”

“I might be able to help,” she said.

“Oh, yeah?”