BooksBarbecue
Back Below the Belt Save as PDF
Chapters (67)
  1. Cover
  2. BOOKS BY STUART WOODS
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  66. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  67. What’s next onyour reading list?

“Well, Christian has chosen a very tall guy to be his surrogate, maybe he’s compensating that way. What do you think St. Clair would do if he had that power?”

“I think he’d make it a lot easier for him to be Christian St. Clair. When you have that much money, only government can impede your progress. That’s why the super-rich give so much money to political races.”

“I suppose so.”

“I heard just today that Christian invited ten super-rich guys to lunch at the Club to meet Nelson Knott.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

“Four of them have agreed to start PACs with a hundred million each, and two others are considering it.”

Dino choked on his scotch, and Stone pounded him on the back. He was finally able to speak. “Four hundred million in the bank, just like that?”

“Six hundred million, maybe, and that’s not counting whatever Christian is spending. Knott might be playing the game with a billion in the bank.”

“Then Kate is in trouble.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“But to go back to your original question about St. Clair, if he’s invested a couple of hundred million of his own money in Knott, then yes, I think he might kill people to protect his investment.”

“Well,” Stone said, “I don’t want to be one of them.”

43

THAT NIGHT, Stone dreamed exotic, dramatic dreams that seemed to involve Christian St. Clair and his political surrogate, but when he awoke, he could only remember fragments.

He breakfasted, showered, shaved, dressed, and went downstairs to his office. He opened his cell phone and went to Ed Rawls’s text with the information on the pack-and-ship place in D.C. and dialed the number. He had decided to take the distribution of Rawls’s books out of Ed’s hands and into his own.

“Yes?”

“My name is Stone Barrington. Do you remember that name in relation to Ed Rawls?”

“I do. I’m to accept your instructions for delivery, should you call.”

“I’m calling. Do you have a van in your business?”

“I do, and the twenty boxes will fit into it.”

“I’d like you to load all the boxes into the van and deliver them to the following address. Got a pencil?”

“I have. Give me the address.”

Stone gave him the address of his New York house.

“That’s going to be expensive, if my van has to go to New York. It might be cheaper to put the boxes into bigger boxes, then ship them by Federal Express Ground.”

“I need the boxes here today,” Stone said. “How much to deliver them?”

The man did some math and mentioned a number.

“Done,” Stone said. “How long will it take to get them here?”

“We can have the van loaded in about an hour, then four to six hours, depending on traffic.”

“I’ll give you a credit card number,” Stone said. He did, then hung up.