“We’re at Danbury Hospital,” Mike said. “I’ll stay at your place in Washington tonight and drive you home in the morning. Get some rest.” He tucked something cold under the covers and held a finger to his lips, then he left.

Stone sat the bed up a bit farther and felt for the cold object. It was half a bottle of Knob Creek, with a straw taped to it. He smiled.

The following morning they wheeled Stone out of the hospital through a side door, where Mike was waiting with one of his big black SUVs. The two of them settled into the backseat, and the driver drove them away.

Mike handed him a plastic bag with a lot of stuff in it. “They cleaned out the glove compartment and found your cell phone on the ceiling,” he said, “but your car is not coming home. By this time, it’s probably a small cube in a junkyard.”

“Well, that’s what insurance is for,” Stone said.

“Don’t worry about it; I’ve found you something of ours to drive until you buy something new.”

“Thanks, Mike. What happened to the guys in the gray van?”

“They rolled it half a mile behind where you hit the Harley. Cuts and bruises. The four of them are in a special part of the Danbury Federal Prison, where Lance’s people are questioning them. Turns out they’re four guys from Waterbury who are partners in a car-painting business, all radical Muslims from a storefront mosque. One of them has a history of raising money for some sort of charity that sounds like a front.”

“How did the guy on the Harley do?”

“The rider is banged up a bit, but the Harley is history. It blew a front tire and threw him off; nothing to do with your being behind him. How are you feeling?”

“Sore and stiff, but okay. The bourbon hit the spot. I finished it last night.”

Mike dropped him at his house and held out a car key. “There’s something armored in the garage. Drive it for as long as you like.”

Stone looked at the key. It said Bentley. He dug into the plastic bag and found the remote control, opened the garage door. There was a shiny green Bentley Flying Spur inside. A promotion!

Joan came into the garage and hugged him. “I’m so glad you are all right. When I heard about it I thought I was out of a job.”

“Gee, thanks,” Stone said.

“Just to cheer you up, Herbie is waiting for you.”

“Swell,” Stone said. He walked into his office and found Herbie asleep on the sofa.

Herbie stirred and raised his head. “Hey, Stone.”

“Hello, Herbie.”

“I hear you spread your car around half of Connecticut.”

“Close.”

Herbie sat up. “I wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For getting my money out of Jack’s business.”

“You’re welcome.”