“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?”
“Yes, I’m okay. Are the police always like this in New York?”
“Not usually, and I don’t think you’ll have any problem with him again tonight. Are you from out of town?”
“From San Antonio, Texas. I’m in town on business.”
“Where are you staying?”
“At the Waldorf Towers.”
“Then let me give you a lift, it’s not far.”
Fred opened a door for him, and they got in.
“Fred, the Waldorf Towers.” Stone turned to his guest. “My name is Stone Barrington.” He offered his hand.
The man shook it. “I am Jose Perado,” he said. “Please call me Pepe—everyone does.”
“What business are you in?”
“I’m in the beer business. I’m a brewer. Perhaps you’ve heard of Cerveza Perado?”
“Yes, I have. I had it once in Texas. It’s very good.”
“My grandfather started the business nearly a hundred years ago. I’m the third generation. Do you have a card, Mr. Barrington?”
“Of course.” Stone handed him a card.
“What kind of law do you practice?” Perado asked, looking at the card. “Oh, I’ve heard good things about Woodman & Weld. I hope to visit them while I’m here.”
“I practice mostly business law, and I’d be happy to introduce you to whoever you’d like to meet at Woodman & Weld.”
Fred drove the car to the Towers entrance at the Waldorf.
“Here we are,” Stone said.
“May I meet with you tomorrow, Mr. Barrington?”
“Yes, of course, and please call me Stone.”
“Would ten tomorrow morning be all right?”
“Of course. The address is on the card. My office is on the street level of my home. It’s a short walk from the Waldorf.”
“Until ten o’clock,” Perado said. He shook Stone’s hand, got out of the car, and went inside.
Stone went home, resisted eating Dino’s chateaubriand, and called his firm’s managing partner, Bill Eggers.
“Hello?”
“Good evening, Bill, it’s Stone. I hoped you’d be awake.”
“I am now. This better be good news—I don’t sleep well on bad news.”
“Have you ever heard of a beer called Cerveza Perado?”
“I have two six-packs of it in my bar downstairs. It’s hard to come by outside of Texas—you have to know somebody.”
“I chanced to meet Jose Perado, their third-generation CEO, this evening.”
“And how did you manage that?”
“I was coming out of Patroon as he was being ‘set upon by footpads,’ as Shakespeare once put it.”
“Right there in the street?”
“Yep, and the footpads were cops. I took a blackjack away from one of them and threatened to call his captain, whereupon they dematerialized. I gave Pepe, as he likes to be called, a lift to the Waldorf Towers. He’s in from San Antonio and looking for legal advice. I’m giving him some tomorrow morning. Would you like to join us?”
“In my office?”
“No, in mine, at home.”
“And that is supposed to impress him?”
“No, you’re supposed to do that. Ten o’clock?”
“See you then.” Both men hung up.
Stone went to bed with dreams of beer bottles dancing in his head.
Stone got to his desk by nine the following morning and called Dino.
“Hey.”
“Hey. After your departure last night I left Patroon and had a run-in with a couple of cops outside on the sidewalk.”
“What do you mean, a ‘run-in’?”
“They screeched to a halt in front of the restaurant and attacked a passerby.”
“Passerby? You?”
“No, someone I’d never seen before. They threw the guy against a wall and hit him, then one of them produced a blackjack and drew back on the guy.”
“Did they hit him with the blackjack?”
“No, I took it away from the cop and started asking questions.”
“I’d have paid money to see that.”
“I’m giving you a firsthand account, free.”
“Go on.”
“I asked them what precinct they were in and they said the Three-Five South, and I cowed them by mentioning their captain’s name.”
“O’Donnell?”
“Right. They backed off, and I put the guy in my car and took him to his hotel, the Waldorf Towers.”
“Good for you. Get any names?”
“One of the cops called the other ‘Ryan.’ That’s all I got.”
“Ryan from the Three-Five South—that’s a start. I’ll get back to you.”
“Thanks.”
—
Stone returned phone calls, dictated letters, and filled out time sheets until Bob Eggers arrived, early.
“So who’s this guy we’re meeting?”
“I told you last night—just replay the conversation in your mind, then we’ll start anew.”
“Okay, I’ve replayed it. What else can you tell me?”
“That’s it, that’s all I know. The guy is, potentially, a productive client.”
Joan came in with coffee and Eggers had some. Then Jose Perado arrived and introductions were made.
Stone watched as Eggers went through his potential-client dance: he started with small talk, moved on to biography and business history and, obviously to Stone, found Perado acceptable as a client.
“We’d be happy to represent you, Mr. Perado,” Eggers said.
“Please call me Pepe—everybody everywhere does.”
“Pepe it is.”
“I’d like very much to be represented by Woodman & Weld,” Pepe said.
“Then let me welcome you to our firm,” Eggers said, standing up and shaking his hand.
“Thank you, Bill.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m due for a meeting back at our real offices.” He shot Stone a glance. “So, I’m going to leave you in the hands of our favorite partner, Stone, who will assess your immediate needs. I look forward to seeing you again soon.” Eggers left.
“That was easy,” Pepe said.
“Bill knows a good client when he sees one,” Stone replied. “Now, let’s talk about your immediate needs. What are they?”
“Two, I think: a distributorship to buy, or alternately, a property where I can start one, and an ad agency.”
“Let’s start with the ad agency,” Stone said. “I recommend a firm called Kelly & Kelly, a small-to-medium firm that does good marketing and great creative work. Can I set up an appointment?”
“Please do.”
Stone looked up the number and called the agency: “Good morning, Brad, it’s Stone Barrington.”
“Good to hear from you, Stone. What’s up?”
“I have a potential client for you.” He gave the man a brief description of Pepe, including his interest in acquiring or establishing a distribution business.