Stuart Woods: Two-Dollar Bill

"I think I'll have some bourbon for dessert," Billy Bob replied. He turned to the waiter. "What you got?"

"We've got Jack Daniel's and Wild Turkey and Knob Creek, but Stone is the only one who drinks that, except for that writer."

"I'll have me a double Wild Turkey straight up," Billy Bob said, then turned his attention to Stone, giving him a broad, pearly smile. "I heard some good things about you," he said.

"What did you hear?" Dino asked. "We never hear anything good about him."

Stone shot Dino what he hoped was a withering glance.

"Well, even back in Texas we get some news from the East ever now and then. Can I buy you fellers a drink?"

"We've got one already," Stone said. "What sort of problem have you got, Billy Bob?"

Billy Bob looked puzzled. "Problem?"

"Why do you need a lawyer?"

"Well, shoot, everybody needs a lawyer don't they?"

"Hard to argue with that," Eggers agreed.

"You planning to murder anybody?" Dino asked hopefully.

"Not this evenin'," Billy Bob replied, flashing his big grin again. "They got a pissing place around here?"

"Through the door, first on your left," Stone said, pointing.

Billy Bob got up and followed directions.

"That ol' boy has either the best teeth or the best dental work I've ever seen," Dino said.

"How did you come up with this guy again?" Stone asked Eggers.

"I told you, he came recommended by a good client in Texas. Stone, just talk to the man, will you?"

Billy Bob arrived back at the table simultaneously with his bourbon. He peeled a bill off a fat roll and handed it to the waiter.

The waiter looked at it. "A two-dollar bill? I haven't seen one of these in years."

"Coin of the realm, my friend," Billy Bob said.

"The Wild Turkey is eight dollars," the waiter said.

"That's on my bill," Eggers said.

"And the Jefferson is for you," Billy Bob told the waiter.

The waiter pocketed the money and went away shaking his head.

"Jefferson?" Dino asked.

"Thomas Jefferson is on the two-dollar bill," Stone said.

"I thought he was worth more than that," Dino said.

"Me, too," Eggers interjected. "Madison is on the five-thousand-dollar bill, except there isn't one anymore. I don't know who's on the ten-thousand-dollar bill."

"Chase," Stone said.

"There's no president named Chase," Eggers replied.

"Salymon Portland Chase," Stone said. "Secretary of the Treasury and Chief Justice of the Supreme Court."

"How do you know that?" Dino asked doubtfully.

"I know a lot of stuff," Stone replied.

"So, Billy Bob," Dino said, "is that whole wad in your pocket two-dollar bills?"

"Naw," Billy Bob said. "I got some hundreds in there, too."

Stone's calamari and Eggers's dessert arrived. Billy Bob tossed down his Wild Turkey and ordered another.

"When did you get into town?" Stone asked, trying to keep a conversation going.

"This evenin'," Billy Bob replied. "My GIV sucked a bird in a engine out at Teterboro, so I'm going to be here a few days while they stick a new one on it."

"I always wanted a Gulfstream Four," Eggers said wistfully.

"Sell you mine when my Gee Five gets here," Billy Bob said. "I got one on order."

"What's the difference?" Dino asked.

"The Five is bigger, faster, got more range. Shoot, I can go from Dallas to Moscow on that thing, not that you'd want to. Don't know why anybody would want to go to Moscow. Freeze your balls off."

Everybody nodded gravely. Conducting a conversation with Billy Bob Barnstormer was not going to be easy.

"What business are you in, Billy Bob?" Stone asked.

"Why, whatever turns a two-dollar bill," Billy Bob replied. "You name it, I'm in it. Me and Warren Buffett got a little start-up goin', but I cain't talk about that, yet."

Stone tried again. "What's your main interest?"

"Money."

"Can you be more specific?"

"American dollars."

Stone sighed.

Eggers jumped into the breach. "Stone, most of our clients are in more than one business. Sounds like Billy Bob, here, is an investor."

"I like that," Billy Bob said. "An investor. Yeah."

"Where you staying while you're in town?" Dino asked.

"Well, usually I take the presidential suite at the Four Seasons," Billy Bob said, "but all their suites are booked up for some kind of convention, so I guess I got to scare up some other accommodation."

"New York hotels are tight this time of year," Dino said. "Stone, why don't you put up Billy Bob at your house? You've got a lot of room."

Stone aimed a kick under the table at Dino, but Dino was too quick for him. "Well, I think Billy Bob is looking for a higher level of service than I'm able to offer," Stone said.

"It would be very kind of you, Stone," Eggers chimed in. "After all, it's very late, and Billy Bob is a client."

Stone looked desperately for an out.

"Why, thank you, Stone," Billy Bob said, sounding truly grateful. "That's the nicest thing anybody ever did for me. And I thought all New Yorkers was tight-assed sons of bitches." He shook his head in wonder.

"Oh, not all New Yorkers," Dino said. "Stone is a prince of a fellow."

"He certainly is," Eggers agreed, pursing his lips to suppress a laugh. "A king, even."

"If I were a king," Stone said, "neither of you two would have a head."

"Now, Stone," Dino said, "that's unkind. And just when Billy Bob was thinking well of you."

"I still think well of him," Billy Bob said, tossing back another Wild Turkey. "Well, I think I'm about ready to hit the bunkhouse. You ready, Stone?"

"Yes, I guess I am," Stone said, rising. "You get the bill," he said to Eggers.

"Sure thing, Stone."

"C'mon, boy, I'll give you a ride in my limousine," Billy Bob said.

Stone followed him toward the door, stopping at a table to give Elaine a peck on the cheek. "Good night, Elaine."

"Good riddance," she said.

STONE STEPPED OUT into the bitterly cold night and turned up his overcoat collar. Billy Bob joined him, overcoatless, and pointed at an absurdly long white limousine at the curb.

"Just hop in there, boy," he said.

As he climbed into the enormous car, Stone tried to remember the last time someone had called him "boy." Probably when he was a boy, he concluded.

Billy Bob climbed into the car and settled in beside him, then, simultaneously with the slamming of the door, the window beside Stone suddenly crazed over, apparently because of a bullet hole in its center. This was followed quickly by two more bullets, and this time, Stone could hear the gun. He had not even had time to duck. He looked out the now-absent window in time to see a black Lincoln Town Car turn left onto Eighty-eighth Street, against the light, and disappear down the block.

He turned to speak to Billy Bob and found him no longer there. Stone hipped his way across the seat and got out of the curbside door, looking for Billy Bob. The Texan stood in the street, holding an old-fashioned Colt Single-Action Army six-shooter with a pearl handle, looking for a target.

"Are you nuts?" Stone yelled at him.

"Huh?" Billy Bob asked, noticing Stone for the first time.

Stone snatched the pistol out of his hand. "Give me that!"

"Hey, what are you doin'?" Billy Bob demanded.

Stone stuck the weapon into his inside overcoat pocket. "You can get three years at Riker's Island just for holding that thing in this town."

"You mean New York won't support a man's Second Amendment right to bear arms?"

"Let's just say that the New York Police Department has a different interpretation of the Second Amendment than you do."

Stone walked back toward Elaine's.

"Where are you going?"

"To get the police," Stone called over his shoulder. "Somebody has just tried to kill you, and if I were you, I'd get out of the street before they come back." He went back into the restaurant and walked back to the table he had just left. "You'd better get some people over here," he said to Dino. "Somebody just took a few shots at Woodman amp; Weld's newest client."