Naked Greed by Stuart Woods Page B

generosity than self-preservation. Are you comfortable in your suite?”
    “It’s bloody marvelous,” Ian replied. “Better than my London flat.”
    “Peter did a nice job on it, I thought. He’s left a DVD collection of old films. You’re welcome to sample them.”
    “I love good movies. He’s a film buff, is he?”
    “He’s a film director, and a very good one. My library is available, too, if you want to read. I don’t want you to start getting cabin fever.”
    “Frankly, I could use the rest, if I can have an occasional visit from Caroline.”
    “If that’s what you think of as rest, go right ahead. Does she understand that you’re not really here?”
    “We discussed that.”
    “Invite anyone you like, as long as you trust them.”
    “My orders are to have no one in, unless they’ve been approved by my service.”
    “I see. We can call Caroline my guest, then.”
    “Thank you. Holly said that the Agency had taken special security precautions here. What sort of precautions?”
    “They removed the brick veneer from the front and rear of the house, put up half-inch steel plating, then replaced the brick. They also replaced all the windows in the house with armored glass in steel frames. You won’t have that problem with the windowpanes that you did in your so-called safe house.”
    “That’s a relief. I’ve been instinctively staying away from windows ever since.”
    “I’ll see you at lunchtime in the kitchen,” Stone said, and Ian went upstairs.

Arnie Jacobs tended bar at a joint downtown, and he had a very nice sideline in snitching for the NYPD. Bartenders were invisible to a lot of people, who would talk freely while he was standing there, polishing glasses. Now he had new instructions from a detective in the Organized Crime Division, and he was polishing glasses and thinking about how he was going to reverse the process when Frank Russo came in with his buddy Charlie Carney. He poured them both their usual without being asked.
    “Hey, Arnie,” Frank said.
    “Hey, Frank.” Arnie leaned in. “I picked up a little something yesterday, might interest you.”
    “I’m all ears, Arnie.”
    “Coupla guys I didn’t know came in yesterday, ordered beers and started gabbin’. Lotsa people think bartenders don’t got ears, y’know?”
    “Okay.”
    “I hear your name mentioned.”
    “How mentioned?”
    Arnie looked carefully around. “Not so good.”
    “Then I better hear it.”
    “They’re talking about some guy named Gino. I didn’t get his other name.”
    “Yeah? I know a Gino or two.”
    “This one owes you money.”
    “Oh, that Gino.”
    “I guess. Problem is, he doesn’t wanta pay.”
    “I tell ya, Arnie, nobody wants to pay.”
    “This one thinks it’s maybe cheaper to take you out. Charlie, too.”
    Frank froze. “Tell me exactly how he said it.”
    “One guy says, ‘Gino wants to hire us to take out Frank and Charlie, says it’s cheaper than payin’ him.’”
    “Exactly like that?”
    “Exactly.”
    “No doubt in your mind?”
    “Not a one.”
    Frank tossed off his drink and put a hundred on the bar. “Thanks, Arnie.”
    Arnie made the hundred disappear. “Always a pleasure, Frank.”
    “C’mon, Charlie,” Frank said, standing up. “We got a collection call to make. You drive.”
    —
    I n the car Frank produced a nicely made silencer and screwed it into the barrel of his little 9mm, then tucked it into his belt.
    “You gonna off ’im?” Charlie asked.
    “Depends,” Frank said, getting out his cell phone. “Gino? Frank. I gotta see you right now. Yeah, I know it’s quitting time, but it’s important. I’ll be there in ten.” He hung up.
    They parked in the garage next door to Gino’s office building. “C’mon,” Frank said. Charlie followed him next door and inside. On Gino’s floor, Frank said, “Stay by the door, don’t let nobody in.”
    Charlie nodded and took up his station. Frank went in and found Gino at his