“I simply asked her nicely,” Stone replied. “Apparently, no one had bothered to do that.”
“I’ve already talked to Harlan, and he’s thrilled. He announced a new acquisition this morning, too.”
“I saw it in the Times. I guess you knew about this yesterday, Bill.”
“Sure. We did the legal work.”
“You might have dropped a hint.”
“Yeah, sure, and have the SEC all over us both like a case of the flu. Don’t worry; Harlan is sending you a check. I told him to pay you directly.”
“And I get to keep it all? Gee, whiz!”
“Don’t worry, the aircraft-leasing deal left us flush.”
“I never worry about you, Bill. Thanks.” He hung up, and Joan buzzed again.
“Yes?”
“A messenger just delivered a check from Harlan Deal for twenty-five thousand dollars! What the hell did you do for Harlan Deal? I didn’t even know you knew him!”
“Met him yesterday, did some work for him last evening.”
“Now I can pay the rest of the bills!”
“See how good I am to you?”
Bob Cantor met his old service buddy at “ 21.” He hadn’t been there in years, but Crow had, judging from the way they were greeted and seated. They were at a corner table on the ground floor, away from the hubbub of the horseshoe-shaped seating areas.
“So, Bob,” Crow said, “how you been?” Charlie was dressed in a five-thousand-dollar suit, a five-hundred-dollar shirt and a two-hundred-dollar necktie with a matching one-hundred-dollar pocket square. He still managed to look like a real estate tycoon who sold used cars on the side.
“I been good, Charlie, and from what I read about you in the papers, so have you.”
“Oh yeah. Boy, it’s been sweet.” He ordered martinis for both of them.
Cantor took a small sip of his drink. “I was kind of surprised to hear from you, Charlie, after that blood oath we all took.”
“Come on, Bob, it’s been thirty years; we can talk now without any problems.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“How have you spent the last thirty?”
“Well, I joined the NYPD when I got back from ’Nam and did twenty-five years there, fifteen of them as a detective, then I retired.”
“How do you spend your time now?”
“Oh, I dabble in photography,” Cantor said, not mentioning that he sometimes kicked in a bedroom door before dabbling. “And you’re in the real estate game?”
“I am.”
“Married?”
“Third time lucky, I hope. How about you?”
“Nah, I stayed a bachelor. I got a couple girls I see from time to time.”
They ordered lunch and chatted amiably, as if they were dear old friends. Cantor finally popped the question. “Seen any of the other guys?”