“I congratulate you.”

“I gave Throckmorton a check for ten thousand pounds. Do you think that was fair?”

“Fair? I’m surprised he didn’t clutch his chest and turn blue.”

“It wasn’t enough?”

“It was more than enough. I doubt he’s seen that much cash in one place in his whole life, unless it was the proceeds of a bank robbery he was investigating. Are you sending your design thief to prison?”

“I declined to bring charges against the poor woman, but she got fired.”

“That was wise of you. I doubt if she’ll do it again, if she can find another job in the ad business. Does this happy turn of events mean you’ll be coming to New York now?”

“I will be, but not now. It’s very, very busy here, and we’re planning the bigger office in L.A.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t be sad, my dear. We’ll see each other soon. Sooner, if you’d like to turn up in London for a few days.”

“Now, that’s an interesting thought. Do I have to stay at the Connaught?”

“Certainly not, you’re not allowed to stay anywhere but with me.”

“You’re sure you have room?”

“It’s a king-sized bed, or as I like to think of it, playing field.”

“Let me see when I can carve a few days out of my busy schedule. Maybe I’ll surprise you.”

“Promise?”

“Sort of. Joan has already gone home, and she’s the only person who can give me permission to leave town.”

“Then I will look forward to hearing from you. Good night.”

Stone hung up. Ah, London: it had been a while, and he loved London.

26

Alvin Griggs was called into his boss’s office during what would ordinarily have been his coffee break, and told to sit down. He did.

“Al, we’ve taken in six more series 1966 hundred-dollar bills,” the AIC said. “Two of them at Fort Lauderdale International Airport, where somebody, we don’t know who, yet, paid cash for an airline ticket, we don’t know where to, yet.”

“And the others?”

“Two at the Greyhound bus station ticket office in Miami—again from whom and to where remain to be determined. Then there was one given to a livery driver in Miami and deposited into his bank account, and one—this will amuse you—taken from a high-end hooker who got busted.”

Griggs was not amused. “So, the money is being used for the purposes of travel and entertainment? Sounds like tourists to me—two of whom were on their way home to wherever. It occurs to me, too, that since we have found so few of these notes, not very much of the money is in circulation—certainly not seven million dollars of it.”

“I’m entertaining the notion that what we’ve found is like the fuse to a bomb.”

“You mean, if we follow the trail, it will blow up in our faces? I tend to agree.”

“Very funny, Al.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny. I believe one person has all the money, and that he’s spent it rather sparingly while he figures out how to launder it. What we’re picking up didn’t come directly from that person’s hands. We’re getting it two or three generations of spenders away from him. One guy wouldn’t be taking both an airplane and a Greyhound bus out of South Florida.”

“You have a low opinion of this case, don’t you, Al?”

“It’s just that we seem to be in a lose-lose situation. The best we can hope for is to identify the guy who has the seven million dollars from the robbery, and if we do, all we’ll do is make the FBI look smart when we turn him over, and we both know they’re not all that smart.”

“Don’t you think it would be satisfying to find the guy who has all the cash?”

“Not particularly. He couldn’t be charged with stealing it, because the guy we know stole it died a few weeks ago, and because the statute has run out on the crime. The very worst that could be done with him is a charge of receiving stolen property, and I’m not so sure that, after so long, it’s even stolen property. And that particular crime isn’t what we’re tasked to investigate. Honest to God, boss, I don’t know why you’re so enchanted with this case. I mean, it’s not even a case.” Griggs could have gone on, but he sensed he was getting very close to the edge of insubordination, so he stopped.

“Al, if you were in possession of this money, what would you do with it?”

“I’d get it into a foreign bank, pronto,” Griggs said. “Before I could spend another dime of it.”

“Where?”

“The Bahamas, maybe, or the Caymans. Then I’d begin drawing on my balance in nice, new notes and start spending it like a drunken sailor. I think it’s extremely unlikely that a foreign bank would even notice that the bills are old, and even if they did, why would they care? Pretty soon the money will be making its way around the world, from account to account and pocket to pocket. It probably already is.”

The AIC heaved a deep sigh. “All right, Al, you’ve convinced me. You’re off the case. Go find me some counterfeit money, or something.”

“Thank you, boss.” Griggs got out of there as fast as he could.

• • •

Stone got to the restaurant five minutes early, and Hank Cromwell turned up on time, in a smashing little black dress and pearls and a rather large handbag. They exchanged cheek kisses, and he liked her perfume.

“What would you like to drink?” he asked.

“An Absolut martini, straight up, with a fistful of olives. And then another, please.”

“I’ll try to avoid gaps between drinks.”

Their drinks came, and they touched glasses and sipped.

“Are you armed tonight?” she asked.

Stone snapped his fingers. “Damn it, I forgot!”

“If somebody had fired at my front door, I’d be walking around with a shotgun,” Hank said.

“I can’t imagine where you’d hide it—certainly not in that dress.”

“I’ll bet if I carried it openly, nobody would bother me.”

“Nobody but one or more police officers.”

“Well, there is that. I did go armed for a while, during one period of my life.”

“What period of your life was that?”

“The period when I was endeavoring to obtain a complete and final exit from the company of an Italian gentleman who had a lot of friends with broken noses and bulges under their silk suits.”

“And how long did that period last?”

“About seven months, before he finally got discouraged. He was very persistent.”

“How on earth did you become involved with him?”

“Well,” she said, “I met him at the bar at P.J. Clarke’s. How about that for a coincidence?”

Stone laughed. “You must spend a lot of time at Clarke’s.”

“Been there exactly twice—met him the first time and you the second. I’m hoping for better from you.”

“I’ll try not to disappoint you.”

She patted his cheek with a cool hand. “You’re sweet.”

“How did you find out the Italian guy was connected?”

“Connected?”

“A Mafioso.”

“It took me a little while, actually. He told me he was in the auto parts business, but I didn’t realize the parts were all secondhand and that he was running something called a chop shop in Red Hook, Brooklyn. Still is, for all I know.”

“Would it make you happy if I had him arrested?”

“I thought you were no longer a cop.”

“I’m not, but my best friend in the world is. Would you like me to mention his name to Dino?”

She looked thoughtful. “I must admit, the notion of his being behind bars has a lot to recommend it, but the possible consequences don’t. I’d have to testify against him, wouldn’t I?”

“Did you ever visit his place of business?”

“No, I finally just put two and two together. He used only cash, no credit cards or checks, and he peeled it off a roll the size of your fist, which was secured with a rubber band. And, as an afterthought, there was the .45 in the shoulder holster.”

“Then you wouldn’t make much of a witness,” Stone said, “since you don’t know anything. He could be just an honest businessman with an unreasoning fear of the IRS and other people with guns. Still, the cops could nose around Red Hook and see what they find.”