“Okay.”

“I am of the impression that he wants to talk to you, but only with an attorney present.”

“Who’s his attorney?”

“I have to make a couple more calls before I can tell you that.”

“Okay.”

“Wait for me to call you back before you send the EMTs upstairs. Collins says the guy is stable and not bleeding.”

“I’ll give you half an hour, Stone, no more.”

“Done. Where are you taking him?”

“The Seventeenth Precinct, on East Fifty-first Street.”

Stone hung up and called Peter Collins back.

“Hello?”

“It’s Stone. The police are willing to meet all your conditions. The hostage negotiator, Lieutenant Hank Willard, is going to escort you to the police station, and you won’t be seen on TV as a criminal. I suggest you make yourself presentable, suit and tie.”

“All right. When do we start?”

“I have to get your attorney lined up, then I’ll call you back.”

“All right.”

Stone hung up and opened his address book to the page of lawyers’ numbers he kept handy. It took him only a moment to settle on Milton Levine. Levine was short, bespectacled, and balding, and he did not look like a corporate legal eagle. He dialed his direct number.

“Who is this; tell me fast.”

“It’s Stone Barrington, Milt. Shut up and listen.”

“I’m listening; talk.”

“You know about the hostage situation in that Park Avenue office building?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d like you to represent the hostage holder, whose name is Peter Collins.” Stone gave him the rundown on Collins’s demands and Hank Willard’s acceptance of them.

“So you’ve done everything. What’s left for me?”

“Get your ass over to the Seventeenth Precinct on East Fifty-first, listen to the man and represent him. You’ll know better than I how to handle it.”

“When?”

“Right now.”

“Shit. I had a hot date for drinks.”

“This shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours; push it back to dinner.”

“Good thinking. Bye.” Levine hung up.

Stone called Peter Collins.

“Hello?”

“Everything okay there?”

“Yes.”

“Your attorney’s name is Milton Levine. Call him Milt. He doesn’t look the part but he’s as smart as they come, and he’ll do good by you. He’s going to meet you at the police station.”

“All right.”

“Now, we’re going to set this in motion. First, the EMTs will come and take the injured man away. Then you lock your gun in your desk or your safe and take the elevator to the garage. Hank Willard will meet you there and escort you to the station. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Remember, as soon as the EMTs have taken the wounded man away, you lock up the gun and leave. The police will come after you’ve gone and take the hostages out.”

“Thank you, Stone. I’m grateful for your help.”

“Good luck, Peter.”

Stone hung up and called Hank Willard. “We’re on,” he said. “Collins’s attorney is Milton Levine. Go.”

“We’re going,” Willard said. “Thanks for your help.” He hung up.

Stone hung up and breathed a sigh of relief.