Naked Greed

37

Stone was lying by the pool on Saturday morning, sunning himself after a good breakfast, when his cell rang.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Stone, it’s Pepe Perado. How are you?”

“I’m very well, Pepe, and you?”

“Excited about coming back to New York. Are you in town?”

“No, I’m in Key West for the weekend. I’ll be back in New York Monday afternoon. When are you coming?”

“I’m arriving Monday at midday, and I need your advice: the Waldorf Towers are booked up next week. Can you recommend a good hotel convenient to the Upper East Side, where I’ll be apartment hunting?”

“Yes. Try the Lowell, on East Sixty-third Street, between Park and Madison. It’s small, elegant, and very comfortable. If they’re booked, try the Carlyle, on Madison at Seventy-sixth Street.”

“Got it. Can I buy you dinner Monday evening?”

“Of course. Come to my house for dinner, and I’ll book something, unless you have a favorite.”

“No, I’ll let you choose.”

“I’ll send my car for you at six-thirty. Let me know if you’re staying somewhere other than the Lowell.”

“Will do. See you Monday evening.” Pepe hung up.

So did Stone. “That was my newest client,” he said to Pat, who reposed next to him, her breasts bared. No one was complaining.

“What does he do?”

“He’s a brewer from San Antonio, and he’s expanding his business to New York. He recently bought a beverage distributor in Queens, and he’ll eventually open a brewery.”

“Do you have a lot of clients?”

“Woodman & Weld has hundreds. I have a few that I manage personally.”

“What are they?”

“Strategic Services, the Steele insurance group, the Arrington hotel group, and now Perado Brewing. I serve on the boards of the first three. Oh, and of course, there’s Pat Frank Aviation Services.”

“And you do all that by yourself?”

“No, I have a lot of support from Woodman & Weld. Joan and I do the rest.”

“I might steal Joan from you.”

“Good luck with that. You wouldn’t like what you’d have to pay her, and if you did lure her away, I’d have to shoot you.”

Pat laughed. “Okay, okay, but I’ve got a dozen and a half airplanes to run now, and I’m picking up new business by word of mouth. I’m going to need an office manager soon. I’ve been doing it myself.”

“I’ll ask Joan if she knows anybody. Does this person need aviation experience?”

“It couldn’t hurt, but not necessarily. It will be office work — bookkeeping, phones, mail, that sort of thing. I’ve already got one person doing flight planning, and soon I’ll need somebody else to help her.”

“Sounds like you’re going to need office space soon, too.”

“I’m going to try to keep it to the space I have downstairs in the house. Renting office space would be a huge step for me.”

“Have you got a new tenant for your newly vacated apartment upstairs?”

“Not yet. I’m going to have to put a realtor on that soon.”

“Or you could rent it to some of your staff and convert it to office space when you need to.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

“I don’t know, why didn’t you?”

Frank Riggs was at his desk when the receptionist buzzed. “A Mr. Charles Carney to see you.”

Frank sighed. “Okay, send him in.”

Charlie rapped on the open door, and Frank waved him to a seat. “What’s up, Charlie?”

Charlie eased into the chair, looking pleased with himself. “I got another job for us,” he said.

“Listen, Charlie, you should take some time off — lie in the sun, charter a boat, relax.”

“Why do that when I can be making more money?”

“Look, you’re sitting on a pile of cash now, don’t get greedy. If you start a crime wave in South Florida, your chances of getting caught will go way up. You’ve already got three law enforcement agencies trying to get at you as it is.”

“Three? Who?”

“The local cops in the town where the bank is, the state police, and the FBI. It was a bank job, remember? That’s federal. Where are you living?”

“I’m in a nice motel a couple of miles from here.”

“You’d be smart to buy yourself a condo while the market is still favorable.”

“Yeah, I guess. How much would that cost me?”

“At least two, three hundred thousand. You can spend a lot more, of course. My point is, you’ve got to establish yourself as a solid citizen, somebody no one would ever suspect of doing bank jobs. Might be a good idea to buy a small business, use it as a cover.”

“Good idea.”

“And stop doing jobs for a while — let things cool off. If the cops think there’s somebody new in town, knocking off this and that, pretty soon they’ll have a task force hunting you. You know how burglars work?”

“I was never a burglar.”

“They case a place, do it, then wait for the owner to replace all his goods, then they do it again.”

“You mean I should do the same bank again?”

“Why not? Give it three, six months, let things return to normal, then repeat. They’re not going to have any more security than they had before. They’ve already got cameras, alarms, an armed guard. What else are they going to add?”

“I see your point.”

“I hope you see my point about letting things cool — you’ll stay out of the joint that way.”

“I hate to pass up the one I’ve got in mind.”

“It’ll still be there a few months from now.”

“You want to hear about the job I have in mind?”

Frank shrugged. “I’ll pay a finder’s fee or a percentage.”

Charlie began to explain, and Frank thought it wasn’t half bad. “Let me talk it over with my partner, and I’ll let you know. In the meantime, take a vacation. You ever been down to the Keys?”

“No, but I hear it’s nice.”

“It’s better than that. Take a drive. I’ll be in touch.”

“You’re right, Frank, I’ll take your advice.” Charlie shook his hand and left.

Frank began to think about Charlie’s job; it had possibilities, he thought.