by Stuart Woods
Eddie turned, drew back a leg, and aimed a kick at the unconscious man’s head.
“No!” Alfie said, but the leg was already swinging. Alfie put out his own leg and tripped Eddie, who fell backward onto the floor. Unfortunately, in so doing, he inadvertently pulled the trigger on the dart gun and shot the projectile into his own calf. He must have caught a vein, Alfie thought, because he felt a sudden rush that clouded his mind. Then he, too, collapsed, on top of the naked man.
Eddie got to his feet. “Alfie? It’s Eddie. Are you all right?” Alfie was out.
Eddie turned his friend on his back and felt for a pulse. Slow and steady. He tried to be cool, now, as Alfie would have been. He knelt beside the paintings, put each of the forgeries into a frame, and fastened them to the wall again, then he tucked the originals into his bag and tidied up, putting the cosh, the tool kit, and the air gun into his coat pockets. He tried to find the dart, but couldn’t.
Eddie was strong and Alfie was thin and light. He got his friend to his feet and over his shoulder, in a fireman’s carry, then he picked up the bag containing the paintings and walked out of the study and down the hall to the kitchen door. He didn’t bother relocking it behind him.
Eddie hurried down the steps and walked to the place where they had climbed over the wall. He set down his bag, hoisted Alfie to a position facedown on the top of the wall, then picked up the bag and scrambled up and over. From the other side, he got Alfie back on his shoulders, picked up the bag, and walked back to the waiting car. He found the keys in Alfie’s pocket, then laid him on the back seat, stripped off his own raincoat and made a pillow for his friend, then he put the paintings in the boot.
A moment later he was behind the wheel, sweating freely, and starting the car. At the first roundabout he turned the wrong way, traveled 360 degrees around, and finally, came out on the correct road. He thanked God he had not met any traffic. All he had to do now was follow the signs to the motorway and stay on the wrong side of the road.
* * *
—
Felicity woke and found Stone gone. She couldn’t hear him in the bathroom, so she put on a robe and went downstairs, where light was coming from the library door. Stone was lying on his belly, stark naked and, apparently, asleep. What the hell?
She kissed him on the shoulder and got no response. She pinched him on the ass, hard, and still, no response. She got him turned onto his back and felt his neck for a pulse: strong and steady. He coughed, and his eyelids fluttered.
“Stone, wake up,” Felicity commanded, pinching his cheeks.
“Not now,” he muttered. She slapped him smartly across the face. This time he responded, getting himself up on one elbow. “What the hell?”
“That’s my question exactly,” she said. “What are you doing downstairs and naked in the library?” Then she spotted the gun next to a chair leg. She helped him to his feet and into the chair. She thought of offering him a brandy, but decided that was not the thing to do; she wanted him awake, not drunk. She picked up the pistol, then expertly popped the magazine, racked the slide, and put down the hammer. “There, now you can’t shoot me.”
“Why would I want to shoot you?” Stone asked, rubbing his eyes.
“Why would you come downstairs, naked and armed?”
He thought about that and failed to come up with an answer. Dino walked into the library clad in a guest-room dressing gown, and saw Stone naked. “Jesus, Stone, you’ve got a perfectly good bed upstairs. What are you doing here?”
“He was out like a light when I came in. This was lying nearby,” Felicity said, handing Dino the reassembled weapon.
“Who were you planning to shoot?” Dino asked him, dropping the pistol into the pocket of his dressing gown.
“He must have heard someone in the house,” Felicity said.
“I must have heard something,” Stone repeated tonelessly. He made a face and put a hand behind his head.
Felicity took the hand away and looked at his neck. “He’s been coshed,” she said.
“Is that some kind of a sex thing?” Dino asked.
“It’s a club,” she said. “He’s been clubbed into unconsciousness.”
“You want a drink, Stone?” Dino asked.
“That’s not what he needs,” Felicity said. “Can you walk, Stone?”
“Of course I can walk,” Stone said, rising from the chair, then falling back into it.
“Let’s get him upstairs,” Dino said. He and Felicity each took an arm, got him to his feet, and marched him to the elevator. Upstairs, they got him into bed.
“I’ll take care of him,” Felicity said.
“I don’t doubt it,” Dino replied.
“You go back to bed, Dino.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dino replied, then left the room.
Felicity went into Stone’s bathroom, found a hand towel and got some ice from the machine in the bar. She wrapped up a handful of ice, then went back to the bed and tucked it under Stone’s head. “That should make it feel better by the morning,” she said.
She slipped out of her dressing gown and found the button that turned off all the lights, then got into bed.
* * *
—
Eddie made it back to Belgrave Square with no problems, parked the car, then got Alfie upstairs and onto his bed.
His wife got out of bed in her nightgown. “What’s happened?” she asked. “Has Alfie had a stroke?”
“No,” Eddie replied, “he accidentally received an injection intended for a dog.”
“What dog?”
“There wasn’t one. Just let him sleep it off.” He helped her get Alfie’s clothes off and found the dart in his leg. He pulled it out and held it up. “He shot himself with this.” Eddie went back to the car and removed the bag with the pictures and his raincoat from the car, put them in Alfie’s study, then went back upstairs to bed. Nice payday coming, he reminded himself, as he drifted off.
47
Stone opened his eyes and put a hand to the back of his neck. It was wet, and there was a towel there. He looked at Felicity’s side of the bed and found it empty.
She swept into the room from her bath, naked, and opened the curtains, filling the room with sunlight. “How are you feeling?” she asked, sitting down beside him and taking the towel from him.
“My neck hurts,” he said, sitting up and turning his head back and forth slowly.
“You were coshed,” she said.
“What?”
“Struck with a club or a blackjack. Apparently you heard something in the night, got a gun, and went downstairs. You probably disturbed one or more burglars at work and got coshed by one of them. I couldn’t find another mark on your body. Dino and I got you to bed, and I put an ice pack behind your neck.”
“Ah,” Stone said, as if he understood, but he didn’t. “The last thing I remember is you on top of me.”
“What a sweet thought,” she said, smoothing his hair.
“I can’t remember anything else.”
“It will come back to you in pieces,” she said. “That’s the way of these things.”
There was a knock at the door; Felicity got into her dressing gown and pulled the covers over Stone. “Coming!” She allowed the breakfast cart to be pushed into the room, then dismissed the butler, and she and Stone had breakfast.
“I want to see what’s missing from downstairs,” Stone said, when they were done.
Felicity got him a dressing gown and went downstairs with him.
He looked around the room.
“Anything missing or awry?” she asked.
“Not that I can see.” He sank into a chair.
“Are you feeling all right?” she asked.
“I think so,” he said, rubbing his neck again.
“Let me know if you feel nauseated,” she said.
“That often happens after a blow to the head.”
Stone got up and walked over to where his mother’s paintings were hung and inspected them closely. “I think they’re in the wrong order,” he said, “but I’m still a little groggy.”
Felicity looked at the pictures. “They look the same to me,” she said. “Are you sure?”
“No,” Stone replied.
“I think you could do with a bit more bed rest,” she said, and led him back upstairs and tucked him in. “There,” she said, kissing him on the forehead. “Sleep. I’ll wake you for lunch.”
* * *
—
Alfie came downstairs and joined Eddie for lunch. The ladies were shopping.
“How are you feeling?” Eddie asked.
“Much better,” Alfie said. He leaned close to Eddie. “You could have killed him, you know. When you kick a man who’s unconscious in the head, he has no defenses, can’t see it coming. He can’t even tense up to take the blow. You could have very easily broken his neck.”
“I’m sorry,” Eddie said
“You also made me shoot myself in the leg.”
Eddie shrugged. “All my fault.”
“What did you do after I passed out?”
“I put the fakes in the frames and reattached them, then I tidied up, hoisted you on my shoulder, took the bag and tools, and got out of there.”
“Was the naked man still out?”
“Completely. I didn’t mess with him. I got you back to the car and drove us home.”
“In that case, we’re lucky to be alive.”
“Don’t worry, I was careful to stay on the wrong side of the road.”
“You mean, the left side of the road.”
“Oh, yeah. What do we do now?”
“We get paid, and you go back to the States.”
“I may still be hot there.”
“You said they didn’t even have a charge against you.”
Eddie told him the story of his court appearance.
“They won’t bother with you again,” Alfie said, confidently. “As you say, they don’t have a charge, except the one you’ve already pled to, and the judge has suspended your sentence. The courts are too busy to mess with those things. You’re a free man.”
“How do we get paid?” Eddie asked.
“I’ve phoned my man. His bloke will arrive here at two o’clock, and we’ll be paid.”
“In cash?”
“That’s how it’s done, my son, unless you’d rather have a check.”
“I mean, I brought a couple of hundred grand with me and declared it to customs. I didn’t know how long I’d be here. I can’t haul all that cash into the States.”
“Do you have a bank account on this side of the pond?” Alfie asked.
“No.”
“I’d suggest Switzerland.”
“I thought that was all over. No secret accounts anymore.”
“I know a small private bank. It won’t be a secret account, but nobody’s going to ask them, are they? You can take a train to Zurich.”
“I thought I might buy a car and drive around the continent for a few days.”
“Good idea; I know a fellow who can get you what you want, and for export, all the right paperwork. You just have to pay the shipping, then the customs duty at the other end, when it arrives in the USA.”
“Sounds good.”
“What car do you want?”
“I was thinking a Mercedes, the big one.”
“The S550?”
“Right.”
“You want to pick it up in London or Zurich?”
“London.”
They finished their lunch, and Alfie made a call, then handed Eddie the phone. “This is my mate Tom. Tell him exactly what you want,” he said.
Eddie took the phone and had a discussion about color and options, then hung up. “He’ll call me back.”
Alfie looked at his watch. “My man’s man should be here shortly. It would be better if you took a stroll around the square.”
“Right,” Eddie said. “If Tom calls back, give him my cell number.”
“As you wish.” Alfie settled into his chair.
Eddie went downstairs and took a stroll around Belgrave Square, then he stopped at a pub and had a pint of bitters.
* * *
—
Alfie took the paintings out of the carryall and looked them over. “Smashing,” he said aloud to himself.
48
Eddie got back to Alfie’s flat and found him in his study, looking very pleased with himself.
“Everything all right?” Eddie asked.
“Couldn’t be better,” he said, pointing to two identical aluminum cases. “Pick one. They’ve both got half a million pounds in them.” Eddie picked one up and set it on Alfie’s desk. It was very heavy.
“The combination for the locks is 3030,” Alfie said.
Eddie spun the numbers into place and released the snaplocks. He opened the case and was greeted with stacks of twenty- and fifty-pound banknotes. He riffled through a few stacks to be sure there was no newspaper, just money, then he snapped the lid shut. “Thank you so much, Alfie,” he said.
“You earned your half, Eddie. When things went wrong, you closed the deal and got us home safely.” His telephone rang. “Yes? Hello, Tom. Come right up.” He hung up and set his own case behind the desk. “I believe that’s your new car being delivered,” he said. “Put your case in the dining room, and go in there when you count out the cash. We don’t want Tom seeing that.”
Eddie picked up the case and carried it into the dining room, closing the door behind him.
There was a bustle at the front door, and a tall man in a tweed suit and trilby hat walked in with Eddie’s and Alfie’s wives, who were carrying lots of shopping bags.
“Oh, Eddie,” Shelley said, “the new car is gorgeous. Tom showed it to us!”
“Ladies,” Alfie said. “Will you excuse us for a few minutes while we transact some business?”
The women went upstairs with their loot, and Alfie introduced Tom and Eddie. Tom handed Eddie a file. “Here’s all your paperwork,” he said. “Certificate of origin, bill of sale, British registration—good for a year—U.S. emissions certification, driver’s handbook, the window sticker listing all the options, and some photos of the car.”
Eddie looked through them. “Looks good to me.”
“If Tom says it’s good, it’s good,” Alfie said.
Tom handed Eddie a bill. “All told, £143,051, including a year’s comprehensive insurance,” he said. “We’ll call it £143,000 even, shall we?”
“Good,” Eddie said. “Excuse me for a moment, I’ll get your money from the safe.” He went into the dining room, opened the case and counted out the money, then went back to the study. “Here you are,” he said, “all in fifty-pound notes.”
Tom examined the money carefully, and Alfie removed a large, buff envelope from a desk drawer and put the money into it.
They shook hands and Tom provided two sets of keys. “Would you like me to give you a tour of the controls?”
“I’ll manage,” Eddie said. They shook hands, and Tom left.
“Well, that was slick,” Eddie said.
“Tom’s a peach.” Alfie handed him a ferry schedule. “I’d suggest you get up very early tomorrow and take the seven AM Chunnel train. It’s about a two-hour drive down there. You should phone down and make a reservation.”
Eddie did all that, and when the ladies came down for drinks, he told Shelley they’d be leaving the house at four AM.
“It’s about 650 miles to Zurich,” Alfie said. “I shouldn’t think you’d want to stop for the night, given your cargo. Just go straight to the bank.” He handed Eddie the bank’s managing director’s card. “I’ve
already spoken to him. He’ll wait for your arrival. Call him when you’re an hour out. I’ll book a hotel suite for you.”
* * *
—
After dinner, Eddie loaded the car with the aluminum case and their luggage, then locked the trunk. The car was perfect. The following morning at four AM, they drove out of the garage. The traffic was very light, and they made excellent time. They checked in at the Chunnel an hour early and read the papers and drank coffee until boarding. By noon they were halfway to Zurich.
Eddie tried a couple of times to call Alfie to thank him again, but there was no reply. He switched his phone off the rest of the time.
* * *
—
Eddie phoned the banker, Karl Wirtz, an hour out, and continued to Zurich. Guided by the GPS they reached the bank. Eddie asked Shelley to wait, and he got the aluminum case from the trunk and rang the front bell. A man in some sort of uniform admitted him to the bank and took him up in the elevator to the top floor. The door opened directly into a foyer, and a small man in a good suit admitted him to an elegant office.
“Mr. Craft, I’m so relieved to see you,” Wirtz said, showing him to a chair. “I’ve prepared all your documents for opening an account.” He handed Eddie a file folder. “Please peruse them and sign where indicated. In the meantime, our accounting department will count your cash and give you a deposit receipt.” The uniform took the case and left the room.
Eddie looked over the paperwork and signed where indicated. He looked at Wirtz, who still looked worried. “Why were you relieved to see me, Mr. Wirtz? You were expecting me, after all.”
Wirtz’s face fell. “I take it you are not aware of the events in London this morning?”
“No, we’ve been on the road since the wee hours.”
