by Stuart Woods
“And what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to try to bring the thing with Larsen to a head; get him to commit an actual crime.”
“And what would that consist of?”
“It would consist of Mitzi giving him a ten-million-dollar check to invest.”
“Like a fake check?”
“No, like a real one?”
“Whose money are we playing with?”
“I’ve got a banking connection who will issue the check and then put a hold on paying it.”
“You mean a delay at the bank to keep Larsen in town a little longer?”
“Exactly. I can tell we’re on the same page.”
“I think you might put somebody on checking out the jet charter services at Teterboro and White Plains airports,” Stone said, “because when they run, I think that’s how they’ll do it.”
“Good idea,” Doyle said. “I’ll get that started today.”
“They’ve probably used the same service before to move money. And I’d send your guys to the airports to do the inquiry in person. I think that might encourage the charter service to play straight with you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Doyle said. “See ya.” He hung up.
The phone rang again immediately.
“Mitzi on line one,” Joan said.
“Hello?”
“Are you and Brian on the same page now?” she asked.
“Oh, sure. He told me his big idea, and I loved it.”
“Brian thinks you’re fucking me.”
“Now where would he get that idea?” Stone asked.
She was laughing when she hung up.
47
STONE DUG OUT Sig Larsen’s card and called the number.
“Larsen Enterprises,” a British-accented woman’s voice said.
“Sig Larsen, please. It’s Stone Barrington calling.”
“One moment, please, Mr. Barrington. I’ll see if I can find him.” This was apparently designed to create the impression of a large office, Stone thought.
“Just one moment, please, Mr. Barrington. I’m getting him out of the conference room.”
Yeah, I’ll bet, Stone thought.
“Stone? It’s Sig. How are you?”
“Very well, Sig, and you?”
“Just great. What did you think of my prospectus?”
“Well, I had a look at it, and I thought it was a little skimpy on information.” Best not to overenthuse, Stone thought.
“Stone, I hope you appreciate the need for absolute secrecy in this matter; I’m the only person outside the company itself who is privy to this new product, and I’ve given my word not to disclose the kind of information I think you’re talking about. Now if either you or Mitzi isn’t comfortable with that level of confidentiality, I’ll understand if you don’t want to participate.”
“Mitzi is more comfortable with it than I am,” Stone said, “and she’s the boss. She should be in touch with you today about her investment.”
“Great, Stone. I’ll look forward to hearing from her. Thanks for your help.” He hung up.
Stone called Mitzi’s cell. “Okay, I’ve baited the hook with Larsen.”
“Terrific.”
“How big a bad check are you going to give him?”
“Ten million dollars.”
“Whoa! Way too much. Your bogus net worth is only $39,000,000, remember? You’ll scare him off.”
“How much, then?”
“Five million, tops. What bank will it be on?”
“My Charleston bank, the real one. I’ve already talked with my guy there, and he understands and will not pay the check.”
“Suppose Larsen has his bank call and put a hold on the funds?”
“I thought of that. My guy will tell them it’s against bank policy; they’ll have to present the actual check.”
“That could work. When are you going to give Larsen the check?”
“Tomorrow morning; we’re meeting for coffee at the Carlyle Hotel at ten a.m.”
“Will Tom be able to see you?”
“Yes. I’d like it if you could be there, too.”
“Participating or just watching?”
“Participating.”
“I made a point of sounding as if I have reservations about the investment, and I’ll continue that pose at the meeting. The enthusiasm will have to come from you.”
“I’ll be enthusiastic,” Mitzi said.
“All right, I’ll meet you there at ten.”
“See you then. Dinner tomorrow night?”
“Just the two of us?”
“If you like.”
“I think that’s best for now.”
“I’ll try to make up for Rita’s absence.” She hung up.
STONE MET DINO for lunch at P. J. Clarke’s, and they both ordered a rare bacon cheeseburger and fries.
“I hear you and the commissioner are getting chummy,” Dino said.
“Where the hell did you hear that?”
“You can’t keep anything from me.”
“No, seriously, how did you know about it?”
“His driver is a buddy of my driver. What did the old man say to you?”
“He asked me why I never made detective first grade.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“The truth, what else?”
“You told him it was politics?”
“I did.”
“That sounds really lame, you know.”
“The commissioner didn’t think so. He said that he’d read my file and that he could read between the lines.”
“Why the hell would he read your file?”
“He said he read it when Brian asked to have me put on active status.”
“Why the hell should the commissioner be interested in you, Stone?”
“I guess he just likes the cut of my jib,” Stone said with a smirk.
“Horseshit. He was a captain downtown when all that went down.”
“He said he heard about it at the time,” Stone replied. “You’re beginning to sound jealous of my new relationship with the commissioner, Dino. You want me to put in a good word for you?”
“Yeah, sure,” Dino said. “Don’t you dare mention my name; I don’t want to be associated with you in the commissioner’s eyes.”
“And why the hell not? What’s wrong with being associated with me?”
“Because you’re a well-known pain in the ass in the department and a self-important fuckup.”
“I am not,” Stone said. “I have the reputation of a cop who did his job until he was wounded in the line of duty and given a medical retirement.”
“If that’s the way you want to think about it, go ahead. Still being in the department, I have a different viewpoint.”
“Who the hell said that about me, anyway?”
“Guys who served with us in the squad.”
“That crowd? Who gives a shit what they think? They’re a bunch of bums. Anyway, most of them are tending bar in Queens by now. I guess the commissioner bases his opinions on better information than squad room gossip.”
“You know, there are a lot of guys serving time in uncomfortable precincts who once thought the commissioner had a high opinion of them. He’s like that; you can’t read him.”
“I’m not reading him,” Stone said. “I was just telling you what he said. If you think he’s a liar, fine. Anyway, I’m not subject to a transfer to an uncomfortable place. This active crap is just a paperwork thing to make Brian Doyle think he’s my boss.”
“If you say so.”
“I say so,” Stone said. Then he looked across the room and saw Hildy Parsons being seated at a table alone.
“Excuse me,” Stone said. “Somebody I’ve got to talk to.” He got up and headed toward Hildy.
48
STONE WALKED UP to her table and held out his hand. “Hello, Hildy,” he said.
Hildy took his hand. “Oh, hello, Stone.”
�
��May I speak with you for a moment?”
“Sure, please sit down. I’m expecting a friend, but I’m a little early.”
“Hildy, I have some information for you, but I’m going to have to ask you to give me your word that you will not discuss this with any other person.”
“All right.”
“I mean, not with your father, not with Derek Sharpe, and not with anyone else.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Are you going to try to talk me out of seeing Derek?”
“I’m not going to try to talk you out of anything. I just have important but highly confidential information to give you.”
“All right, I promise I won’t discuss it with anyone else.”
“I’ll trust you to do that.”
“Well, what is it?
“How much do you know about Derek?”
“I know that he’s from Texas and that he had a hardscrabble childhood.”
“Wrong. He’s the son of a prosperous junk dealer, and he grew up with money.”
“Look, I don’t need this from you, Stone. This smacks of something my father would do. Are you working for him?”
“I’m telling you this of my own knowledge,” Stone said.
“I don’t care whose knowledge it is-I don’t want to hear about it. I’m a grown woman, and I can judge people for myself.”
“All right, then let me tell you something you don’t know that might help you form your own judgment.”
She sighed. “All right, and then this conversation will be over.”
“If you continue to be close to Derek for so much as another day, it is likely that you will be arrested.” That seemed to register with her, so he continued. “And it is very likely that you will end up in prison.”
She stared at him wide-eyed but said nothing.
“That’s all I have to tell you,” Stone said. “If you pass that on to Derek, someone could get killed. I would advise you to absent yourself from Derek for a few days-a death in the family, a sick friend, any excuse.”
“Derek and I are about to take a vacation,” she said. “Out of the country.”
“If you go with him, you will find yourself a fugitive from justice,” Stone said. “I tell you this only because I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I hope you understand that.”
He started to rise, but she put her hand on his arm, and he sat down again.
“You seem like a trustworthy person,” she said, “but so does Derek.”
“One of us has ulterior motives,” Stone said. “One of us is lying to you. One of us wants your money. If you need a place to go for a few days I have a house in Turtle Bay with guest rooms.” He took a card from his coat pocket and handed it to her. “My secretary is there all day. May I tell her to expect you?”
“No, I don’t need a place to hide,” she replied, but she put the card in her bag.
“My cell phone number is on the back of the card,” Stone said.
“Call me day or night, but whatever you do, don’t go back to Derek’s place and don’t see him for a few days.” He took a key from his pocket. “This will let you into my house.” He wrote the security code on another card and gave it to her. “Please, please, make yourself safe by being alone for a few days.”
“I’ll think about what you’ve said,” Hildy replied, then looked up and waved. “My friend is here.”
Stone got up and went back to his table, where Dino had started without him.
“Your cheeseburger is getting cold,” Dino said. “Who was that?”
“Her name is Hildy Parsons. She’s the reason I got mixed up in this thing with Brian Doyle.”
“That looked like a pretty earnest conversation,” Dino said.
“I hope she heard me.” Stone’s cell phone rang. “Hello?”
“It’s Mitzi. I wanted you to know that we hit pay dirt at Teterboro,” she said. “Larsen and Sharpe have chartered half a dozen times from the same company, every time to the Bahamas or some other island.”
“Have they been to the Cayman Islands?” he asked.
“I’m not sure if that’s one of them.”
“It’s probably where they’re banking,” Stone said. “They would probably go to some other island first and then change planes if they’re carrying cash.”
“Got it,” she said.
Stone wanted to tell her about Hildy Parsons, but he decided not to. “See you tomorrow morning at the Carlyle,” he said.
“Sure,” she said. “Gotta run.” She hung up.
49
STONE ARRIVED at the Carlyle Hotel at Madison and Seventy-sixth at the stroke of ten. He didn’t see Mitzi or Tom, but Derek Sharpe and Sig Larsen were sitting at a corner table in the dining room, so he joined them.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Stone said, and hands were shaken. He sat down and looked at his watch.
“Women!” Sharpe said.
“What’s that about women?” Mitzi asked, and they all turned to look at her. She was wearing a flaming red suit and carrying a handbag to match. Every head in the dining room had turned to follow her.
Everybody stood up, Larsen held a chair for her. “Would you like something, Mitzi?”
“Yes. I’ll order breakfast.” A waiter appeared, and she ordered scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.
“I’ll have the same,” Stone said, “with orange juice, coffee later.”
The two men seemed surprised that Stone and Mitzi were ordering food.
“Derek and I had breakfast earlier,” Larsen said, pouring himself and Derek another cup of coffee from the pot on the table.
There was idle chat for a moment, then Larsen said, “So, Mitzi, what did you think of our investment opportunity?”
“I think it’s very exciting,” she replied. “Stone is slightly less enthusiastic.”
“Not at all,” Stone said. “I’m just accustomed to having more information before I advise a client to make an investment.”
“As I told Stone,” Larsen said, “I am the only person outside the company who has all the facts, and since it’s crucial to keep the news of this software a secret until the company is ready to announce it, I simply can’t tell anyone anything that isn’t in the prospectus, and I promise you, very few people have seen that.”
“I understand completely,” Mitzi said. “And when do you think the announcement will be made?”
“In no more than ninety days,” Larsen said.
“And what would you anticipate the stock price will do at that time?”
“That’s when the initial public offering would be made,” Larsen said, “and I believe it will at least triple on the first day of the offering. It’s going to be the hottest thing since Google.”
“Is the software in beta yet?” Stone asked.
“It finished beta testing yesterday,” Larsen said, “and the results were fantastic-very few bugs for a brilliant new program. The next three months will be devoted to organizing the IPO and slipping subtle hints to the trade and business press to create a high level of buzz.”
“And at what level will the stock be offered?” Stone asked. He turned his head slightly so that his earbug would capture their voices clearly.
“Somewhere in the fifty to seventy-five range, probably,” Larsen replied. “You could make a bundle, Mitzi, by selling on the first day.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Mitzi said.
“And at what level would you like to participate?” Larsen asked.
“I’ll take a hundred thousand shares,” she replied, removing an alligator checkbook from her handbag and opening it. “At fifty dollars a share. Do you have a pen, Sig?”
Larsen nearly broke an arm extracting a pen from his jacket pocket and handing it to her. “I will get you that price,” he said. “I must say, I had expected a cashier’s check.”
“You think my personal check isn’t good, Sig?” Mitzi asked, gazing at him across the table.
“Of course I don’t thi
nk that, Mitzi; I’ll just have to wait until the check clears before having the stock issued to you.”
“Well, that will take only a few days,” Mitzi said. “To whom shall I make the check?”
“Larsen Enterprises,” Sig replied.
“Not directly to the company?”
“I’ll have to move your money through my firm and issue my own check to the company, since its name must remain secret. I shouldn’t think it would be more than four or five days before I can issue the stock.”
Mitzi wrote a check for five million dollars and noted “100,000 shares” on it. “Let’s be clear,” she said. “This is for shares in the company that you described in the prospectus, not in Larsen Enterprises.”
“Of course it is,” Sig said, looking at the check. “A Charleston bank?”
“I don’t have a New York account yet,” Mitzi said. “Perhaps you could suggest a bank here?”
“I work with half a dozen,” Larsen said, “mostly small, privately owned banks. I should think that for your purposes one of the big banks, Morgan Chase, perhaps, would be fine. Just pick a branch near your home.”
“Thank you. I may do just that,” Mitzi replied.
Their eggs arrived, and Mitzi and Stone began to eat.
Conversation seemed to pall, and Larsen and Sharpe seemed a bit antsy.
Larsen consulted his wristwatch. “Oh, Derek and I have another appointment downtown in half an hour,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind if we leave you to your breakfast.” They stood up and hands were shaken. “You’re going to be a very happy woman in three months,” Larsen said. “Bye, now. Bye, Stone.”
“Derek, could I speak to you for a moment before you leave?” Mitzi asked.
Stone put down his fork. “Please excuse me for a moment.” He went looking for the men’s room.
SHARPE TOOK Stone’s seat. “How can I help you, Mitzi?”
“Well, Derek,” she said, “my friends from Charleston were very pleased with the quality of the, ah, ‘art,’ you sold them, and they’d like to make another purchase.”
“The same again?”
“No. This time they’re less interested in the grassy picture and more interested in the powdery ones.”
“All right. How much would they like?”