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Back Loitering With Intent Save as PDF
Chapters (64)
  1. Stuart Woods
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
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  7. 6
  8. 7
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  10. 9
  11. 10
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  30. 29
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  32. 31
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  34. 33
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  40. 39
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  43. 42
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  48. 47
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  50. 49
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  52. 51
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  64. AUTHOR’ S NOTE

“Send him in,” Manny said, and he rose to meet the young man who entered his office. They shook hands, and Manny indicated a chair. “Have a seat, Joe.”

“Thank you. Wally Millard sends his best regards.”

“How did you meet Wally?” Manny asked.

“My New York lawyer sent me to him when I needed some work done.”

“What sort of work?”

“We don’t need to go into that,” Evan said.

“Tell me about your problem,” Manny said.

“I’m in business with a man, and it’s not working out. I want to sell the business, and I have a buyer, but my partner wants a lot more out of the deal than he put in.”

“So you want a sort of business divorce?”

“You could put it that way.”

“And it won’t be amicable?”

“No, and I’d like it to be permanent.”

Manny stood up and walked around the desk. “Stand up, Joe,”

he said, “and take off your jacket. I need to take some precautions.”

Evan stood up and watched as Manny went through his coat pockets and felt along every seam.

“Unbutton your shirt and pull out your shirttail,” Manny said. Evan did as he was told.

Manny lifted his shirt and inspected his chest and back, then made sure there were no wires attached to the shirt. He patted Evan down carefully, paying particular attention to his crotch. “Drop your pants to your knees,” Manny said.

Evan did so and stood still while Manny pulled down his shorts and parted the cheeks of his ass. After Evan had pulled up his pants, Manny checked his shoes and socks.

“All right, you can get dressed,” Manny said. “You’re clean.” He picked up Evan’s briefcase and opened it.

Evan took out the envelope with the cash. “We’re not ready to get to this yet,” he said.

Manny emptied the briefcase onto his desk, then felt the inside for lumps, then he raked the detritus from the case back into it and set it on the desk.

Evan put the money back into the case.

“All right,” Manny said, “tell me what you want.”

Evan took a pad from the briefcase and wrote, “I want him dead,” then showed it to Manny.

“I understand you. What’s the man’s name?”

Evan wrote “Michael Levy” and the address.

“Where is this?”

“North of here a couple of hours, about eight or nine miles south of Stuart, on the Intracoastal Waterway.”

“How far from I-95?”