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“Our dinner table is in twenty minutes,” Stone shouted. “Get changed.”
Twenty minutes later, they walked out onto a broad terrace overlooking the twinkling lights of the town. The rain had passed, and the night was filled with stars. A pair of cruise ships anchored in the big harbor far below were bathed in their own lights, while the anchor lights of sailing vessels bobbed around them. They found a couple of comfortable chairs, accepted menus from the waiter, and Stone ordered two piña coladas.
“I want a double Scotch,” Dino complained.
“Shut up, you’re in the tropics,” Stone explained.
The drinks were icy cold and delicious. Stone flipped open his cell phone to see if he could get a signal. He did, and he dialed Bob Cantor’s number and got the out-of-range recording. “Either Bob’s on a boat somewhere or he’s turned his phone off,” Stone said.
Dino looked out at the view. “Can you blame him? I’d do the same in this place.”
They listened to the piano player as the bar filled with arriving customers.
“Did you call the DA’s office this morning, about getting Herbie’s charges dropped?” Stone asked.
“Who had time?” Dino replied. “You yanked me out of my office before I had time to do anything.”
“Call him in the morning,” Stone said. “It’ll be easier to convince Herbie to go back to New York if the manslaughter charge has disappeared.”
“Yeah, okay,” Dino said. “Now can I drink this ridiculous drink and enjoy the view?”
“Be my guest.”
“You’d better believe it.”
The waiter came and took their orders. “It’ll be twenty minutes or so,” he said. “Would you like another piña colada?”
“You betcha,” Dino replied.
“What, no Scotch?” Stone asked.
“We’re in the tropics, dummy.”
Stone laughed. “I’m sorry we couldn’t bring Mary Ann along.”
Dino looked at him as if he were mad. “You bachelors,” he said, “don’t understand anything. The duty-free shopping alone would break you.”
“Break me?"
“We’re on your nickel, remember?”
“My nickel doesn’t extend to duty-free shopping. It won’t support a camera or a Rolex, you remember that. Besides, you’re not going to have time to shop. We have to find Herbie.”
“And how do you figure to go about doing that?” Dino asked.
“If Bob Cantor won’t answer his phone, then I don’t have a clue,” Stone said.
Then a flashbulb went off in their faces.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” somebody with a New York accent said. “Here’s my card. Can I print that great shot for you? Only twenty bucks.”
As his eyes readjusted to the available light, Stone looked up into the smiling face of Herbie Fisher.
19
Herbie’s smile collapsed. “I, ah . . .” He couldn’t seem to get it out.
Stone was too stunned to speak for a moment. Finally, he said, “Hi, Herbie.”
