Criminal Mischief Read Online Free PDF Page B

moment.”
    “Did he have the habit of carrying?”
    “Now and then. He would never tell me why.”
    “What’s his name?”
    “Harry Hillman,” she replied. “He’s British.”
    “Is he an American citizen?”
    “No, he’s far too snobbish about being an Englishman.”
    “Would you like to have him thrown out of the country?”
    “He’s been pretty decent about the divorce, so I don’t think so. If he gets to be a nuisance, I may ask your help in that regard. Can you really do that?”
    “I might be able to assist him on his way. I just don’t want him to shoot me between now and then. Has he ever shot anyone?”
    “He used to brag about having shot a man when he was in the army, but I never knew whether to believe him.”
    “Whose army?”
    “The queen’s.”
    “Did he brag about other things you doubted?”
    “He certainly had a tendency to brag, but never to the extent that I doubted him. It was always something schoolboyish like a fistfight. He would brag that he had knocked a man out with a single punch, that sort of thing.”
    “I must remember not to let him land a punch,” Stone said. “What size is he?”
    She looked at him. “Size? Really?”
    “Oh, please. Height and weight will do.”
    “Sorry. Six feet four, two-twenty, or thereabouts.”
    “I’m sorry to hear it,” Stone muttered. “Where will you park the car?” he asked, seeking to change the subject.
    “There’s a garage in the building, and I own two spots. The doorman will know.” She got out her cell phone. “I’ll give him a heads-up.” She did so.
    “How did you come to marry an Englishman?” Stone asked.
    “Well, I was in England,” she replied, “and it just sort of happened. He can be quite charming if he feels like it.”
    Stone kept checking the rearview mirror. They might have been towing the black Mercedes, he thought. “Where to now?”
    “You can let me off at Bloomingdale’s. I can find my way home from there.”
    “You don’t want company?” He glanced over his shoulder.
    “Still there?”
    “Still there,” he replied.
    “I’ll manage,” she said.
    “Ask your doorman to recommend a driver for your new car.”
    “Good idea.”
    He dropped her at Bloomingdale’s and, as he drove away, got a pretty good look at the large man in the passenger seat. It would be harder for the man to sneak up on him now.

10
    Stone called a familiar number.
    “Herb Fisher.”
    “Hi, it’s Stone.”
    “Hi, there. It’s been a while. What’s up?”
    “Kitty Crosse is up.”
    “She’s something, ain’t she? Too bad the bar association frowns on sex with clients.”
    “Fortunately, she’s not my client.”
    “I envy you your availability.”
    “What kind of divorce did she have?”
    “She got it done. I think her husband was a little afraid of her. His attorney certainly was. Meetings were short.”
    “What do you think of the husband?”
    “I think he’s the kind of guy who likes to beat up smaller guys, which in his case, includes just about everybody.”
    “He’s a bully, then?”
    “That’s what we used to call them in the neighborhood.”
    “Is he also a coward?”
    “A coward?”
    “They say that bullies are really cowards.”
    “Probably some truth in that.”
    “Any advice on dealing with the husband?”
    “Yeah, get in the first punch, and give it all you’ve got. If he gets up, he’ll be dangerous.”
    “That sounds like good advice.”
    “Or, alternatively, you could just leave his ex-wife alone, before he knows about you.”
    “Too late for that,” Stone said. “He was waiting outside my house this morning when we left to go car shopping, and he followed us all the way to Bloomie’s.”
    “What did you buy?”
    “Not I, she. A Bentley Flying Spur. Is her check going to clear? I vouched for her.”
    “No problem there. Harry Hillman is a rich man—or was before he met Kitty.”
    “I can relax, then.”
    “I wouldn’t do that, not with Harry on my