Naked Greed

“And now he has another reason to hate you?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“And you want my advice?”

“It couldn’t hurt.”

“Lock yourself in the house and live on pizza and Chinese food until Parisi dies. On second thought, no pizza—that’s Italian, and Parisi might have a co

“We would not, but is that the best you can do?”

“What more can I do, until Parisi makes a move? I mean, if you declare your house a foreign embassy I could get you a security detail, but apart from that . . .”

“Thanks, that’s very helpful.”

“Listen, you’re going to hear from Parisi sooner rather than later. I mean, he could shoot you, or something, then I could arrest him.”

“Gee, Dino, you make it sound so easy.”

“You’ve still got a bulletproof vest in your wardrobe from that thing last time, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, start wearing it again, and unless Parisi is a fabulous shot and puts one in your head, you’ll be fine.”

“I can’t tell you how much better I feel after I talk to you.”

“Anytime, pal.” Dino hung up.

—

The messenger arrived with the contract from the ad agency, and Stone was able to get through it before Pepe arrived for their appointment.

“This looks good,” Stone said. “They’ve already signed, and it’s contingent on your closing the deal with Marty Winkle, so if you want to sign it now, I’ll messenger it back to them.”

Pepe signed the document, and Stone gave it to Joan to return.

“One down and one to go,” Pepe said.

“How’s it going out in Queens?”

“My people have been through the books and the business with a fine-toothed comb, and they like it. Marty Winkle is as clean as a Texas armadillo’s tooth. I wish everybody I deal with was so straightforward. His attorney is drafting an agreement now, and it will include the points you raised, including a three-year indemnification against liability suits. We’re agreed on money, so we’re only a couple of days away from closing. I had no idea when I came here that I’d go home with a closed deal, and I owe that to you, Stone. I want you and Woodman & Weld to go on representing us.”

“We’d be delighted.”

Pepe took a document from his briefcase. “Here’s the representation agreement you gave me. It’s signed, and my office is sending you a retainer check.”

“Thank you, Pepe, you’re an easy man to represent.”

“By the way, the two goons have disappeared. I haven’t seen them since yesterday.”

Stone was immediately suspicious. “I’m delighted to hear it, but don’t dismiss your security detail yet. Brad Kelly tells me that they’ve been representing Bowsprit Beverages for the past two years, and they resigned the account this morning.”

“Do Brubeck and Parisi know I’m the reason?”

“I’m afraid so, so we should be cautious for the rest of the time you’re in town.”

“That security team is expensive.”

“If they save your life only once, they’re cheap.”

Pepe left and Joan came into Stone’s office. “Have we made somebody mad?” she asked.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because a black car with two goon-like creatures in it has been circling the block for the last twenty minutes.”

“Maybe they’re looking for a parking place.”

“They’re more likely looking for you.”

“Have you paid all the bills?”

“Have I paid all the bills!” she said sarcastically.

“Okay, you’ve paid all the bills. Let me come take a look.” Stone went down the hall to Joan’s office, which had a view of the street, and he sat on the edge of her desk and waited. “How long do they take to get around the block?”

“I don’t know—five minutes, ten, depending on the lights. Ho! There they are.”

Stone peered out and saw the familiar black Crown Vic, driven by Ryan and Al Parisi. “Well, that’s a relief: wrong goons.”

“We have a selection of goons to choose from?”

“These guys have been following Pepe for days. They don’t know they’ve already missed him. The other guys, if they show, will be new and more frightening.”

“What should we do?”

“Just let these two continue to circle the block, until their tires wear out. If you see any other goons, either in a car or on the sidewalk, call me, and I’ll come shoot them with your .45.”

“It’s loaded and ready,” Joan replied, opening her center desk drawer to reveal the old weapon. “Say, are you gaining weight?”

“It’s my new underwear,” Stone replied, poking himself in the ribs.

“Do I need a change of underwear?”

“I don’t think a bullet could penetrate that tweed jacket you’re wearing,” Stone replied.

“I’m celebrating my Scottish heritage,” she said. “Sometimes I find a twig or two woven into it.”

“What next, a bird’s nest?”

“That would be okay. I could use the eggs.” Her phone rang, and Joan answered it. “Caroline on one.”

Stone went back to his office and punched the button. “Hello,” he said.

“Nice roses,” she replied. “Thank God you didn’t include a card. I’m getting all sorts of stick about them around the office.”

“Don’t they know what you do in your spare time?”

“God, I hope not, I’d never hear the end of it. You available for pizza or Chinese this evening?”

“Chinese, yes, pizza, no. I’ve been warned by an Italian that Italians talk among themselves.”

“You know a place called Evergreen?”

“I’ve got their menu in my desk drawer.”

“Order a lot for me, then attend to your own needs.”

“That’s your job,” he said. “What time will you show?”

“Seven?”

“That’s good. Come in through the office door, that’s how the Chinese will arrive. I’ll buzz you in.”

“Will do. See ya.”

Stone called the restaurant, ordered a dozen dishes, and asked for a seven o’clock delivery, downstairs.

Joan came back in. “I’m done, unless there are goons to shoot.”

“Seems quiet. Have a nice evening.”

“You’re staying on?”

“I’m expecting Chinese in half an hour.”

“Enjoy!” She left for her apartment next door.

—

At seven sharp the office doorbell rang. Stone went and relieved the deliveryman of three shopping bags of food and paid him in cash. He closed the door and was picking up the bags when a man appeared at the door. He was large and rough-looking, and he began to look over the door and the lock, not realizing that Stone was on the other side of what amounted to a one-way mirror. He took something from his pocket and began to fool with the lock.

Stone set the bags aside, went into Joan’s office and retrieved her .45, then he went back to the door and jerked it open, the pistol ready. “What’s on your mind?” he asked, holding the gun shoulder high.

The man froze, then looked worried. “Sorry,” he said, “wrong house.”

“This is a dentist’s office,” Stone said. “Never mind the sign. If you come back you’ll leave minus some teeth.” The man hurried away just as a cab pulled up outside, and Caroline got out, carrying a large purse and a small suitcase.

“Hey,” she said, kissing him. “Was that who you’ve been expecting? I mean, there’s a .45 in your hand.”

“I believe it was,” Stone said. “He was trying to pick the lock.”

“That’s pretty brazen.”

“Yeah, I guess he thought there would be no one in the office this late, and he could get into the house this way. He was nearly right.” Stone picked up the food bags. “Let’s get to the kitchen. We’ve got two hundred dollars’ worth of Chinese food here, getting cold.”