“I’ll have to visit a bank for the money.”

“Whatever you say.”

“You get everything set up—Irv, the fence, everything. There’s no reason this shouldn’t go smoothly. One thing—how are you going to get the paintings out?”

“I’ll put them in bags I’ve already got and bring them out on a folding hand truck to Second Avenue, where you’ll be waiting in a rented van.”

“Me?”

“Unless you want to bring in another partner. The more people, the less money, and the riskier.”

“Oh, hell, all right. Where we going to take the goods?”

“Here, then we return the van. The fence will come here with the money.”

“I want all twelve pictures,” she said.

“Well, me too, but we’re not exactly sure where the other four are.”

“I like your theory about the bedroom.”

“I’ll try it, but I can’t promise.”

“Christ, they’ve got to be somewhere in that house.”

“I’ll only have twenty minutes.”

“Then you’d better move your ass, hadn’t you?”

46

STONE LAY ON HIS BACK and took deep breaths. Sweat poured off him, and his crotch was on fire.

“Are you up for another?” Hev asked.

“You were sent here to kill me, weren’t you?”

She laughed. “Killing you softly.”

“I don’t know where you get so much energy.”

“You inspire me, babe.”

“Hev, do you want to go to the big Strategic Services party tomorrow night?”

“Oh, I know about that.”

“Yes, but would you like to go with me?”

“Look, sweetie, that’s for management and big-time clients. I’m a worker bee, I don’t float in that pond. If Mike Freeman saw us there together he’d think we were both crazy.”

“I’m sorry, that never crossed my mind.”

“It’s flattering that you didn’t consider it, but take somebody else.”

“Okay.” He had no idea whom to take. He was in one of those dry spells between women.

Hev got dressed. “I’m finishing up today. I’ll show Joan how to arm the system, if you aren’t around.”

“Good idea. She’ll understand it the first time, and then she can explain it to me.”

Bob trotted in and hopped onto the bed.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Stone said to him. “I know you’ve already had breakfast and your cookie.”

Bob denied everything.

“You lyin’ dog,” Stone muttered, and headed for the bathroom. He was relieved that Hev didn’t follow him into the shower; he needed a rest.

He shaved, and as he left the bedroom his phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Holly,” she said. Holly was an old friend—formerly army, then CIA, and now the President’s national security advisor.