New York Dead
Chapter One
Elaine's, late. The place had exhausted its second wind, and half the customers had gone; otherwise she would not have given Stone Barrington quite so good a table--number 4, along the wall to your right as you enter. Stone knew Elaine, had known her for years, but he was not what you would call a regular--not what Elaine would call a regular, anyway.
He rested his left leg on a chair and unconsciously massaged the knee. Elaine got down from her stool at the cash register, walked over, and pulled up a chair.
"So?"
"Not bad," he said.
"How about the knee?" Anybody who knew him knew about the knee; it had received a .22-caliber bullet eleven weeks before.
"A lot better. I walked up here from Turtle Bay."
"When's the physical?"
"Next week. I'll tap-dance through it."
"So what if you fall on your ass, tap dancing?" Elaine knew how to get to the point.
"So, then I'm a retiree."
"Best thing could happen to you."
"I can think of better things."
"Come on, Stone, you're too good looking to be a cop. Too smart, too. You went to law school, didn't you?"
"I never took the bar."
"So take the bar. Make a bu ... read full excerpt from: New York Dead ebook
