Shoot First by Stuart Woods

Author:Stuart Woods
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2018-04-10T04:00:00+00:00

31

Stone drove back to the offices of the Steele Group with Arthur, then they went up to his office.

“All right,” Arthur said, “how do you want to do this?”

“I want you to cut me checks for ten, fifteen, twenty, and twenty-five million dollars, made out to ‘bearer.’”

“And if you should get mugged on the way to see Bellini, or should you yield to temptation and take a South American vacation, it will cost me, let’s see, seventy million dollars?”

“Should either of those things occur, Arthur, you can always stop payment,” Stone replied. “Do you have a check format that is very official-looking?”

“The checks on our claim account satisfy that requirement.”

“Good. Let’s not keep Mr. Bellini waiting.”

Arthur picked up a phone and pressed a button. “Mr. Harvey, this is Arthur Steele. Please cut four checks on our claims account in the amounts of ten, fifteen, twenty, and twenty-five million dollars, and hand-carry them to me for my signature.” He listened for a moment. “Yes, those are the correct amounts, and please hurry.” He hung up and looked at Stone. “I expect that Mr. Harvey has suffered a coronary and that someone is calling nine-one-one, as we speak. If he does show up, be prepared to wait while he argues with me.”

“I’ll summon all my patience,” Stone said. He picked up a Wall Street Journal from Arthur’s desk and began perusing it. Arthur sat, drumming his fingers on his desk.

After ten minutes of this, a man walked in carrying a file folder. He was wearing an ordinary business suit, but Stone imagined him in a green eye shade and sleeve garters, with ink-stained hands.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Steele,” the man said.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Harvey.” He nodded toward Stone. “This is Mr. Barrington.”

Harvey turned and stared at him.

“I’m the delivery boy,” Stone said.

Harvey handed the file folder to Steele, but didn’t immediately release it from his grip. “I’ll need a signed claim payment memo for each of these checks,” he said.

“Mr. Harvey,” Arthur replied, “let go of the fucking file.” He gave it a yank, and it slipped from Harvey’s grip.

“Mr. Steele—”

“That will be all, Harvey. Don’t let the doorknob hit you in the ass on your way out.”

Harvey backed his way to the door, let himself out, and closed it softly behind him.

“You’ll have to forgive Mr. Harvey,” Arthur said, opening the file. “He lets go of money reluctantly.”

“I noticed,” Stone replied.

Arthur spread out the checks, took an expensive pen from his pocket, uncapped it, and let it hover over the desk as he carefully read the amounts on each.

“Arthur . . .”

“All right, all right,” Arthur spat, then signed each check. He took an envelope from his desk, tucked the checks into it, and handed it to Stone. “They are arranged in ascending amounts,” he said to Stone. “Don’t, for God’s sake, hand him the wrong one, or even worse, all of them.”

Stone tucked the envelope into an inside pocket, stood up, and shook Steele’s hand. “At the next board meeting, Arthur, I’ll tell them how reluctant you were to let go of these checks.

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