Foul Play

Six

Stone worked through the day and at about quitting time, Joan buzzed. “Charley Fox on one,” she said.

Stone punched the button. “Hey, Charley.”

“Hey, Stone. I had a weirdo in here about an hour ago, said you sent him.”

“The only person I’ve sent you recently is Shepherd Troutman.”

“That’s the guy. Is he nuts or what?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, he’d hardly sat down when he started telling me these stories — he was beaten up on the street, and again in Central Park. He found a dead hooker in his bed this morning, like that.”

“Gee, Charley, why do you think that’s weird? These things happen in the big city. How’d you leave it with him?”

“I told him to wire me some money to open an account, then we’d talk.”

“Did he?”

“Did he what?”

“Wire you some money.”

“I dunno. I haven’t checked.”

“Well, check it and call me back.” Stone hung up.

A minute later, Charley called back. “I checked, and he wired me some money.”

“How much?”

“Two hundred and fifty million dollars. A quarter of a billion. My bank confirmed it. What, is he crazy, wiring a stranger that kind of money?”

“I sent him to you, Charley. That’s all you need to know about his character. Now do you think he’s real?”

“I think his money is real.”

“Well, everything else he told you was real, too. He’s new in town, and he has the worst luck of anybody I’ve ever met.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Figure out some investments for him, get his approval, and buy. That’s what you do, isn’t it? And while you’re at it, get him to sign the documents making him a client. I wouldn’t want you to get yourself arrested this early in the relationship.”

“I’ll call him right now.” Charley hung up.

A few minutes later, Joan buzzed again. “Mike Freeman on one.” Mike Freeman was CEO of Strategic Services, the second-largest security company in the world, and a partner in an investment company, Triangle Investments, with Stone and Charley Fox.

“Hey, Mike.”

“Hey, Stone. I hear Charley just picked up an interesting new client.”

“Not interesting, fascinating.”

“Did all that stuff really happen to him?”

“It did. I saw the results in all three cases.”

“This gentleman sounds as if he needs some personal security services. Should I call him?”

“It’s better if I call him, then get him to call you.”

“I’ll sit here, huddled by the phone.”

“See you.” Stone hung up. Almost immediately, Joan buzzed. “Shep Troutman on one.”

“Hello, Shep.”

“Hi, Stone. I went to see your friend, Charley Fox. I think he may have thought I was crazy. He hustled me out of there pretty quick, said he’d get back to me.”

“That’s my fault, Shep. I didn’t brief Charley about you, so he wasn’t quite ready.”

“Well, I guess I might have thought I was crazy, too, if a guy like me walked into my office and told me about my recent experiences.”

“Charley got your wire transfer, and he’s already hard at work on an investment strategy for you. I suggest you make an appointment with him tomorrow and hear what he has to say. You’ll need to sign some documents, too, to open your account with him.”

“I had a message from him, but I haven’t had a moment to get back to him.”

“There’s somebody else you might want to call, too, Shep.”

“Who’s that?”

“His name is Mike Freeman, and he’s CEO of Strategic Services, a very large security company.” Stone gave him the number.

“Do I need security?”

“I think the past few days have given us the answer to that question.”

“You have a point,” Shep said.

“I think you need a security plan, just as you need an investment plan: a couple of guys to spend some time with you for a while, figuring out what you need to do to stay safe.”

“What sort of things?”

“How much cash do you carry around, Shep?”

“In New York? A thousand, fifteen hundred, I guess.”

“You have credit cards?”

“An Amex and a Visa.”

“Then you don’t need anything in your pocket except enough for tips and cabs. You might also need a safety-deposit box and, when you find a place to live, a good safe installed.”

“I found a place to live,” Shep said.

“Great! Where?”

“Right where I am right now. I looked at some other apartments in the building, then I made them an offer. We haggled and settled on about a quarter less than they were asking.”

“Congratulations, it’s a beautiful place.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll want to beef up security on the place, though, after the most recent event.”

“I’ll call Mike Freeman.”

“Something else: Do you own a car?”

“I drove my father’s old Mercedes down here. I thought I might trade it in.”

“Then get garage space thrown in with the apartment. Parking’s expensive in New York.”

“It’s included in the deal.”

“Good.”

“Let’s have lunch again in a few days and see if you need to do some more planning.”

“There are a couple more things I need: a Joan and a Fred.”

Stone laughed. “If you hired them away, I’d have to shoot you, or myself. Don’t call an employment agency, though. I’ll put them to work on finding you somebody.”

“Fair enough. I’ll talk to you later.”

Stone hung up thinking Shep Troutman might yet survive living in New York City.