Naked Greed

11

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.”

He locked the door behind her and set the alarm, then led her through his office to the kitchen.

“This house just goes on and on, doesn’t it?”

“Sort of. I own the one next door, too. My people live there.”

“How many people?”

“Fred and Helene, my cook/housekeeper, and Joan Robertson, my secretary.”

“How convenient.”

“For everybody.” He set the food on the kitchen table. “I’ll get plates and some wine. You root around in that and see if there’s anything you like.” He set the table and put out half a dozen serving spoons, then got a bottle of good Chardonnay from the wine fridge and opened it.

“What would you like?”

“A couple of dumplings, lots of fried rice, General Tso’s Chicken, and the Grand Marnier Shrimp, for a start.”

She served them both and they ate greedily.

“I figured out why you have so many Matilda Stone paintings,” she said. “She was your mother.”

Stone’s mouth was full, so he just nodded.

“I looked her up on Wikipedia, and it said she had one son.”

Stone swallowed and washed it down with the wine. “You are correct,” he said.

“What was she like?”

“Just wonderful. She worked like a beaver all day and was transformed into a mother at quitting time.”

“I’m a little like that. I work like a beaver all day, then I turn into a sex maniac at quitting time.”

“Then I’d better stop eating, or I won’t be able to get my clothes off.”

“I’ll help,” she said.