Naked Greed by Stuart Woods Page A

class could be working for the opposition. In this case, well, I’m a military brat—no family connections. The culprit will probably turn out to be a cleaning lady or a driver, or some such person, no doubt for money.”
    “I don’t know much about Dahai.”
    Ian shrugged. “It’s a sultan’s palace perched on a lake of oil, not much else.”
    “And why do they think Millie Martindale is in no danger?”
    “Oh, greater London has a large Middle Eastern immigrant population that can conceal an operative. Washington doesn’t. They’d have to go at her through the Dahai embassy there, and since the outing of their chargé d’affaires, they can’t operate quite so freely. In fact, I’m surprised the State Department hasn’t shut them down and shipped them home. That’s what our Foreign Office did.”
    “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m a bit of a target myself, at the present time.” Stone told him about the Perado affair and Gino Parisi’s hoods.
    Ian raised his glass. “Brothers in arms,” he said.
    Stone drank to that.
    Ian yawned. “I think I’d better go fight the jet lag,” he said, setting his glass down.
    “Of course,” Stone said, rising and shaking his hand. “Sleep well.” He had seen Caroline slip into the elevator.

Dino called the following morning to thank Stone for dinner. “The port was fantastic.”
    “Way too good for you,” Stone replied.
    “I hesitate to bring this up,” Dino said, “but I believe Caroline and the Brit were hatching something.”
    “They were indeed,” Stone said. “I heard her slip out at six AM .”
    “And you’re okay with that?”
    “I discovered I’m not very good at sprinting over distance, and Caroline is indefatigable.”
    “So you planned that?”
    “Let’s just say I thought seating them together was a good idea. And speaking of ideas, I’ve had a thought about resolving the Gino Parisi thing.”
    “You’re going to kill him?”
    “Certainly not. Tell me this: Does your department have somebody undercover who might deliver a little message to Frank and Charlie?”
    “Maybe. What kind of message?”
    “I’d like for them to hear that Gino wants to get rid of them.”
    “You want them to hear that Gino is firing them?”
    “No, I want them to hear that Gino thinks they’re too expensive, that it’s cheaper for him to hire someone else to, ah, fire them.”
    “That’s a dirty, rotten thing to do to anybody,” Dino said. “I love it.”
    “I thought you might.”
    “Let me see what I can do. This would have to happen very subtly.”
    “I thought your fine Italian hand could manage that.”
    “I’ll get back to you.” Dino hung up.
    Joan came into the office. “The two goons are back—the real goons, not the ersatz ones.”
    “Tell you what,” Stone said, “ask Fred to take them some coffee and Danish. Maybe they haven’t had breakfast yet.”
    “Now, why would you want to do that?”
    “I want them to think well of me.”
    She looked at him narrowly. “Why?”
    “Because if they think well of me they might be a little less interested in causing me harm.”
    “You think you can buy off a pair of pro goons with coffee and Danish?”
    “It can’t hurt to try. And do it every morning. I want them to get used to it.”
    There was a rap on the back door to Stone’s office.
    “Come in!”
    Ian Rattle let himself in from the kitchen. “Good morning.”
    “Come in and have a seat, Ian. This is my secretary, Joan Robertson. Joan, our houseguest, Major Ian Rattle.”
    Joan shook his hand.
    “I think you have a delivery to arrange,” Stone said to her.
    Joan left, shaking her head.
    “I wanted to thank you again for last evening,” Ian said.
    “Did you enjoy your second dessert?”
    Ian seemed surprised. “Did you arrange that?”
    “No, Caroline arranged it. All I did was give her the opportunity.”
    “The generosity of Americans never ceases to amaze me!”
    “Really, it was less an act of