Stuart Woods - Naked Greed

“Never mind the tunnel,” he said, “just drop me at the Port Authority bus terminal.”

“Make up your mind,” the driver muttered.

At the terminal, he found another cab. “Through the tunnel,” he said, “then take 3 West and 17 North.”

“Teterboro?”

“Near there. I’ll direct you.”

He had the driver drop him a block from his apartment house and walked the rest of the way, checking constantly for tails. He approached the building carefully but saw no threats. Once inside his apartment he called the neighborhood joint and ordered a pizza. He was still ravenous, and he unpacked and turned on the TV while he waited, sucking on a beer from the fridge.

He paid for the pizza and ate straight from the box, wolfing down two slices before he slowed down. Just when he was beginning to relax there was a hammering on his door. He put the pizza box aside and checked the peephole. UPS. He opened the door. “Mr. Ryan?”

“Yes.”

“Sign here.”

He signed; it was a pretty big box, and he kicked it inside. He had to get a knife to open the thing, and when he did, he found his suitcase inside. He set it on the coffee table and opened it. Inside was some of his cash and a note written with marker on a shirt cardboard:

You seemed like a nice guy, so I only took half. You made my year! Love, S.

Ryan was flabbergasted. He counted the banded cash, and there was a hundred thousand there. He sat down on the sofa and cried.

Stone was about to leave the house to meet Dino for dinner when the phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Cantor.”

“Hey, Bob.”

“Looks like I found your guy.”

“Already? You’re kidding.”

“Why would I kid you?”

“The NYPD has been looking for him for two, three weeks, and you found him in a few hours?”

“Actually, it only took me twenty minutes, but I screwed around most of the day and didn’t start until twenty minutes ago.”

“What did you find out?”

“Well, I think I can tell you where he is and what he’s doing right now.”

“How can you do that?”

“After all these years, you doubt me? That really hurts, Stone.”

“Okay, where is he and what is he doing?”

Cantor gave him an address and he wrote it down. “Oh, and it’s Apartment 1B.”

“And what’s he doing right now?”

“He’s eating a pizza.”

“Come on, Bob.”

“It’s a large pepperoni and sausage.”

“Bob, I’m dazzled.”

“It wasn’t that hard, really.”

“Then how did you get it?”

“I hacked into that phone company file that lets him look at his account on a real-time basis and discovered that he had made a phone call about forty minutes ago, then I checked the reverse directory and found out the number belongs to a pizza parlor in Jersey. Then I hacked into the pizza joint’s computer and found out a guy name Ryan had ordered a large pepperoni and sausage, and the address and apartment number it was delivered to. He got the pizza about ten minutes ago, so I guess he’s still eating it.”

“Bob, I can’t thank you enough. Send me a bill.”

“I didn’t even spend half an hour on it, Stone. I can’t send you a bill for half an hour.”

“Then I’ll surprise you with something.”

“I love surprises, especially if they’re very expensive scotch.”

“Done. I gotta run, I’m meeting Dino.”

“See ya.”

Stone walked into Patroon and found Dino sipping his first drink. As soon as he sat down, somebody put a Knob Creek on the rocks before him.

“Hey,” Dino said. “What’s new?”

“I found Ryan.”

Dino choked on his scotch. “What?”

“He’s at an apartment building in Jersey, eating a pizza.”

“What the hell?”

“A large pepperoni and sausage.” Stone looked at his watch. “He’s just finished all he can eat, and he’s saving the rest for tomorrow.”

“Have you got a bug in his refrigerator?”

Stone ran Bob Cantor’s story down for him. “And he only started on it this afternoon? Amazing.”

“He started on it about forty-five minutes ago.”

“And my people have been looking for him for weeks!”

“Of course, they couldn’t illegally hack into the phone company’s accounts, or into a pizza joint’s computer. You see how nice life could be if you didn’t have to worry about search warrants and all that?”

“It would be heaven on earth,” Dino admitted, “but if you ever tell anybody I said that, I’ll call you a liar on television.”

“Why don’t you call Harrigan and tell him to call the Jersey cops and go get the guy?”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Dino said.

“What?”

“Let’s you and me go get the guy.”

“An ex-cop and the police commissioner of New York City have a couple of drinks, then drive to another state and bring back a guy without benefit of an extradition warrant?”

“Something like that.”

“How many scotches have you had?”

Dino drained his glass and set it down. “That was my second one.” He signaled a waiter for a third, and the waiter brought them both another one.

Stone drank half his first one. “I’ve gotta catch up.”

“Not going to happen.” Dino started on his third. “This is the first drink I’ve had in ten days, you know.”

“No, it’s the third drink you’ve had in ten days, or maybe ten minutes.”

“You have a point,” Dino admitted.

“I do.”

“What’s your point?”

“I think we’d better get some food into you, then discuss this further.”

“You think I’d make a wiser decision with something in my belly to mix with the scotch?”

“Dino, I don’t want to have to send you home in an ambulance.”

Dino thought about that. “You know, it might be a nice way to get there. If Viv didn’t find out.”

Stone rode home with Dino in his SUV. Dino was dozing off, then snapping to again. “Are we going to Jersey?” he asked.

“Not tonight,” Stone replied. “You have to go home and work on your story.”

“What story?”

“The story about why you’re waking up with a hangover tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, that story.”

“Right.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because she won’t be home from Chicago until tomorrow night, and by then I won’t have a hangover anymore.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.”

“How about you?”

“What about me?”

“What’s your story about why you wake up with a hangover?”

“I don’t need a story, I’m sleeping alone.”

“So am I.”

“Also, I had two less drinks than you did. Wisely.”

“That was wise,” Dino admitted. “I could sleep right here.”

The car stopped at the awning. “You don’t have to, you’re home. Come on, I’ll walk you upstairs.”

“Would you like me to wait for you, Mr. Barrington?”

“You wait for him,” Dino said.

“Yes, sir.”

Stone took Dino’s arm and walked him through the lobby to the elevator. The doorman was on the phone and didn’t seem to notice them. Upstairs, Stone hung Dino’s coat in the hall closet, walked him to his bedroom, and rummaged in his dressing room until he found a pair of pajamas. He got Dino to undress and put them on, then tucked him in and hung up his clothes.

“Good night,” Stone said, switching off the lights.

“Good night,” Dino said. “We’ll go get him in Jersey tomorrow.”

“Right,” Stone said, then walked to the front door, switching off lights as he went. Dino’s driver delivered Stone to his house, and soon he was in bed and as out as Dino.