45
Stone was in his office when Joan buzzed him. “There is a Mr. Beria to see you, along with another gentleman,” she said. “They do not have an appointment,” she added pointedly.
“Are you on the handset?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Stall them while I call Mike Freeman.”
JOAN HUNG UP the phone and addressed the two men before her. “Mr. Barrington will see you, but he must first conclude a telephone conference call,” she said to them. “Please have a seat.”
Beria pointed to the phone on her desk. “There are no lines lit up,” he said.
“He is on a private line.”
The two men sat down.
STONE USED his cell phone to call Mike Freeman at Strategic Services.
“Yes, Stone?”
“I need the protection we talked about yesterday. Specifically, I need four armed men here now. There are two men in my outer office that I do not wish to be alone with.”
“I’ll find people in your neighborhood,” Mike said, then hung up.
Stone went to his safe and took out a Terry Tussey custom .45 pistol, which weighed only 19 ounces, and a light shoulder holster, put them on and donned his jacket. He had just resumed his seat when his office door opened and Beria and his gorilla entered the room.
“I see you have concluded your conference call,” Beria said.
“Yes, I have.” He motioned toward the sofa. “Please have a seat.” They did so, and he sat in a chair opposite. “I believe we may have met before,” he said, “but I can’t remember where.”
“It was in an elevator,” Beria replied. “Do you recall?”
“Ah, yes.”
“Let me come directly to the point,” Beria said.
“Please do.”
“I believe you are in possession of a computer device given to you by Gino Bellini.”
“Is that the same Bellini who was murdered in an apartment in the building where we met?”
“It is, and I have reason to believe that you were in the apartment when the murder occurred.”
“I was in an apartment upstairs,” Stone replied, “and in the elevator, of course.”
“Mr. Barrington, if you stick to that story things are going to become very uncomfortable for you very fast.”
“That sounds very much like a threat, Mr. Beria.”
“It most certainly is. Mr. Ivanov here is very accomplished at carrying out my threats.”
Ivanov gave Stone a small smile.
Stone produced the .45. “How would Mr. Ivanov perform this duty with a bullet in his head?”
Beria looked very irritated. “Mr. Barrington, I possess the means to end your life before this day is out. I suggest you listen to my proposal before I take that step.”
“Oh, you have a proposal? I thought you only made threats.”
“I think a more businesslike conversation would be in both our interests.”
“Does Mr. Ivanov speak English?”
“He does, and very well.”
“Good. Mr. Ivanov, please remove the firearm from your person with your left hand and place it on the coffee table in front of you.”
Ivanov looked at Beria and got a small nod. He placed the pistol on the coffee table. Stone reached over and swept it onto the floor.
“Now you, Mr. Beria.”
Beria opened his jacket to show that he was unarmed.
“All right, now proceed with your proposal, and take your time.” He thought he would like it if Beria were still talking when the Strategic Services men came into the house.
“As I said earlier,” Beria stated, “I wish to retrieve the computer device given to you by Mr. Bellini.”
“I’m afraid you’re not off to a very good start,” Stone said, “because I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Come now, Mr. Barrington,” Beria said, “you are being obtuse.”
Stone shrugged. “Please explain, and slowly, so that my dull wits may grasp your thought.”
“The device, probably a thumb drive, contains software that I purchased from Mr. Bellini for twenty million dollars.”
“And you paid that sum before receiving the software? You’re not a very good businessman, Mr. Beria.”
Beria was beginning to become agitated. “Mr. Barrington, my associate in this matter is a Mr. Selwyn Owaki. Is that name familiar to you?”
“I believe it is,” Stone replied, “and you have my sympathy.”
“Your sympathy?”
“For finding it necessary to associate yourself with such a thoroughly disreputable person.”
“You are very fortunate that Mr. Owaki is not present,” Beria said.
“I agree. I certainly would not seek the company of such a man.”
“Mr. Barrington, you are wasting my time.”
“You come into my office without an appointment and make silly threats, and I am wasting your time? You are confused, Mr. Beria.”
Beria was now turning red. “Now, you listen to me,” he began.
“No, you listen to me,” Stone said. “I have the grounds to shoot you both right now, with no legal consequences.”
“There would be consequences beyond your imagination,” Beria said.
“All right, I’ll play your inane game for a moment. Why do you think I possess this software?”
“Because you are associated with one Meg Harmon.”
“Are you referring to the Harmon who is the rightful owner of the software of which you speak?”
“I am.”
“Well, since she is the rightful owner and you are only a thief, we have nothing further to talk about,” Stone said. “Except you can tell Mr. Owaki that if he wishes to speak to me not to send buffoons with messages. I’m in the Manhattan phone directory, if it still exists.”
Stone’s door suddenly opened, and four men filed into the room, each holding a handgun before him.
“Ah, gentlemen, welcome,” Stone said. “There is a handgun on the floor over there. Please unload it, give it to the uglier of these two gentlemen, and then escort them both to the street. I expect they have a large black Mercedes waiting for them.”
The four armed men followed Stone’s instructions explicitly.
“You will be hearing from me, Mr. Barrington!” Beria shouted, as he was frog-marched from the room.