A Delicate Touch

by Stuart Woods

  Gianni Tommassini was his name. He was sixty-one years old, and he had murdered his father. And not only his father: Eduardo reckoned he had been present on a half dozen occasions when young Gianni had been ordered to commit murders. The dates, times, and those present were noted in the file; at least three witnesses were still alive, if very old.

  Eduardo Bianchi and Gianni’s father, Enrico Tommassini, had been contemporaries, both highly placed in the criminal organization, serving as final arbiters for the ruling council of bosses, singly or together. No one, not even the members of the council, knew their names; and they each went on to establish themselves as upright citizens, serving on boards of businesses and public institutions. Enrico Tommassini had anglicized his name to Henry Thomas, and he had founded an investment bank known as H. Thomas & Son, with much of its original funding from the Five Families. According to Eduardo, Henry’s son, John Thomas—known to his family and friends as Jack—had joined his father in the banking business, severing all visible ties with his past.

  Twenty-odd years ago, Henry Thomas had turned the business over to his son, Jack, who had managed the company brilliantly. It had grown into a dominant firm on Wall Street. Jack had a son, Henry II, called Hank, who was now a popular United States congressman from New York, being spoken of as an eventual candidate for the presidency.

  Stone locked the file in the Excelsior safe, the combination of which he had memorized and saved in an encrypted file on his computer. Then he made two phone calls:

  First, to his accountant, Robert Pesce.

  “Rob,” he said, “I have knowledge of $238,000,000 in a Swiss bank account, belonging to an estate of which I am executor. I want to repatriate the funds, pay all taxes and penalties, and put the proceeds at the disposal of my client’s heirs. How must this be done?”

  “Stone,” Rob said, “that problem is just slightly above my pay grade. I am going to need to consult with my betters, and a negotiation will have to take place.”

  “Oh, and I have another three million dollars found today in my client’s safe. I’m taking the position that income taxes have already been paid, but inheritance taxes are due. Please let me know how much Uncle Sam is going to demand from the Swiss funds, and those in the safe,” Stone said.

  “When was the Swiss account opened?”

  “In 1976.”

  “Good, before the law changed. I will certainly let you know—soon, I hope.”

  “And please note that the estate will compensate you and your firm at your hourly rate,” he said drily. “There is no commission involved.”

  “I will disappoint my people,” Rob said, just as drily, and hung up.

  Next, Stone called his friend Dino Bacchetti, who had been his partner when they were both NYPD detectives. Dino was now the police commissioner of New York City.

  “Bacchetti,” Dino said, answering his private line.

  “It’s Stone. Dinner tonight?”

  “Okay.”

  “Seven-thirty at Patroon?”

  “Right.”

  “I’m going to have some good news and some bad news.”

  “I can’t wait,” Dino replied.

  They both hung up. A moment later, Mary Ann Bacchetti called. “Stone, I want to apologize for storming out this morning,” she said.

  “It’s all right, Mary Ann.”

  “Did you find anything else of interest in the safe?”

  “Yes, I did.” He told her about the Thomas file.

  “Holy shit,” she said.

  “That accurately reflects my reaction to the discovery.”

  “What are we going to do about this?”

  “That’s my problem, so all you have to do is forget I told you.”

  “My lips are zipped,” she said.

  “My accountant and the management of his firm will deal with the matter of taxes and penalties owing on the Swiss account money. Don’t tell Ben about his unexpected inheritance until we have a number.”

  “Lips still zipped,” she replied. They said goodbye and hung up.

  Stone went into Joan’s office.

  “What have you been doing in the conference room all day?” she asked.

  “Sorting out the contents of Eduardo Bianchi’s safe,” he said.

  “What was in it?”

  “None of your business. There’s also a large old safe in the storage room, to which you will not have the combination.”

  “You don’t trust me anymore, huh?”

  “About as far as I can throw you, and you’ve gained weight.”

  “I have not!”

  “I just wanted to see if you were paying attention. Do you have a shopping bag and some tissue paper?”

  “Is a Tiffany bag all right?”

  “Perfect.” Stone took the bag and tissue paper into his conference room and cut open the box containing Eduardo’s three million dollars and placed it on the table, making quite a pile. Guessing what the estate taxes would be he calculated that Dino’s share would probably be in the neighborhood of four hundred thousand dollars. He cut that out of the pile, which was in bundles of one hundred thousand dollars, wrapped it in the tissue paper, and placed it in the Tiffany shopping bag. He opened the Excelsior safe and placed the remaining cash inside, then closed and locked it.

  Not wanting to be separated from that much cash, he took the shopping bag upstairs with him and set it on the bed while he showered, shaved, and dressed. Once done, he peeked into the bag to be sure the money was still there.

  Since it was a nice evening he thought of walking to the restaurant, but the idea of being on the street with that much cash did not appeal, so he called for Fred and the car.

  “Yes, sir,” Fred said.

  “And, Fred, come armed.”

  “I always do, sir,” Fred replied.

  By the time Stone got downstairs the Bentley was idling at the curb.

  “Good evening, Fred,” Stone said, getting into the rear seat.

  “Good evening, sir,” Fred replied. “May I ask why armed resistance might be required this evening?”

  “I’m traveling with something very valuable,” Stone replied, holding up the shopping bag.

  Fred eyed it in the rearview mirror. “A new lady, sir?”

  “No, it’s for Dino.”

  A long silence ensued. “I see, sir,” Fred said.

  6

  Stone entered the restaurant to find Dino already in their usual booth, and almost as soon as he sat down a Knob Creek on the rocks was set before him. “Good evening,” he said.

  “What’s in there?” Dino asked, nodding at the Tiffany shopping bag.

  “I mentioned that I would have good news and bad news,” Stone said. “Which would you like first?”

  “Is the good news in the bag?” Dino asked.

  “It is.”

  “Well, then. I’m not going to sit here and stare at it, and think about it, while you give me the bad news. So let’s have the good news.”

  “A wise choice,” Stone said, placing the bag before Dino.

  Dino stared at the bag but did not touch it. “What’s in it?” he asked.

  “You have only to look inside,” Stone replied.

  “This is weird,” Dino said.

  “Why?”

  “You’ve never given me a gift—at least, not one in a Tiffany bag.”

  “This is not a gift from me, and it has nothing to do with Tiffany’s. It’s just a bag.”

  Dino looked warily inside. “Is it going to explode?”

  “It is not.”

  “Why is it wrapped in tissue paper?”

  “Dino, open the thing, or I’ll take it away and keep it myself.”

  Dino reached into the bag and grasped the package inside with both hands, then set it on the table and ga
zed at it for a moment. Finally, he carefully pried the tape loose, as if he were saving the tissue paper, then he opened the tissue and looked inside. He immediately closed it and put it back in the bag. “Are you nuts?” he asked.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There’s a lot of cash in that bag. Is this a bribe?”

  “Certainly not.”

  “You can’t go into a public place and put a pile of cash in front of a public servant. People might get the wrong idea.”

  “I apologize. I didn’t take that into account. I just wanted to see the look on your face when you opened it.”

  “And what was the look on my face?”

  “Appalled,” Stone said.

  “Good call. How much money is in there?”

  “Four hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Where did it come from?”

  “From Eduardo Bianchi’s safe, which was opened yesterday afternoon.”

  “And why are you giving it to me?”

  “Because also in the safe was a codicil to Eduardo’s will, specifying that any funds not specifically bequeathed in his will would be divided between Ben and you, eighty/twenty. There was three million dollars in the safe, and that’s your twenty percent, less the estimated inheritance taxes.” Stone took a couple of sheets of paper from his inside pocket and handed one of them to Dino. “This is the codicil—signed, witnessed, and legal. I think Eduardo must have drawn it up himself.”

  Dino set the shopping bag on the seat between them, then peeked at the contents again. “Four hundred grand?”

  “Four packets of one hundred thousand dollars each, in hundred-dollar bills.”

  “What am I supposed to do with it?”

  “Spend it, give it away, whatever you like.”

  “Do I have to tell my wife about it?”

  “No, but you would be a fool to hide it from Viv.”

  “She’s arriving at Teterboro in a few minutes,” Dino said. “She’ll join us in time for dessert.”

  Vivian Bacchetti was the chief operating officer of the world’s second-largest private security company, Strategic Services, and traveled a lot on business.

  “Don’t worry, this money isn’t going to matter,” Stone said. “I have to give you the bad news before I explain that. That way, you’ll be in a better mood at the end of the evening.”

  “All right,” Dino said impatiently. “What’s the bad news?”

  The headwaiter appeared at the table. “Would you like to order, gentlemen?”

  “Yes,” Dino said. “What’s the most expensive thing on the menu?”

  “The Beluga caviar,” the man replied.

  “We’ll both have that, with a bottle of the Dom Pérignon. Then the chateaubriand, medium rare, and a bottle of the Opus One cabernet, whatever you think is the best vintage. And the check comes to me.”

  “Thank you,” Stone said when the man had gone.

  “Okay, now give me the bad news, and keep it as short as you can. I don’t want it to interfere with the caviar.”

  “All right. Also in Eduardo’s safe were some very thorough dossiers on a dozen men whose names you would remember from the past. They are all dead now, except one.”

  “And who would that be?”

  “Enrico Tommassini.”

  “Never heard of him,” Dino said.

  “He was a contemporary of Eduardo, and they both served the council of the Five Familes in New York as confidential advisors. Enrico had a son called Gianni, who in his youth was a hit man for the council. Eduardo was a witness to Gianni being instructed to make hits, and there are three other witnesses still alive who can testify to that.”

  “Okay,” Dino said, looking befuddled. “So what’s the bad news?”

  “Enrico Tommassini anglicized his name to Henry Thomas, as in the firm of H. Thomas & Son, on Wall Street.”

  Dino’s eyes widened.

  “Gianni Tommassini became John Thomas, known to all as Jack. His son—Enrico’s grandson, Henry, known as Hank—is currently a U.S. congressman from New York and has a slim chance being the next president of the United States.”

  “You’re telling me Jack Thomas is a murderer?”

  “Retired now, but still a murderer. Eduardo pins six hits on him.”

  Dino stared into the middle distance and thought about it. “And Eduardo kept a file on all this?”

  “He did, and very meticulously.”

  “So you’re telling me that you’re going to turn over that file to the D.A.?”

  “I thought I would turn it over to you and let you deal with it,” Stone replied. “That way, you’ll get credit for the collar.”

  “Thanks so much,” Dino said, acidly. “And where is this file?”

  “It’s still in Eduardo’s safe, but the safe is in my office.”

  Dino put his face in his hands and rubbed vigorously. “Jesus Christ,” he said, “what a can of worms!”

  “You could destroy the file,” Stone said.

  “Why haven’t you already done that?”

  “As an officer of the court, it’s my legal obligation to turn the dossier over to the proper authorities. That would be you.”

  The caviar and champagne arrived. Dino stared at it for a moment, then began to eat. “We’re not wasting this,” he said, “but watch out, I may throw it up.”

  7

  They finished the caviar in silence, except for a few oohs and aahs, then their dishes were taken away.

  “Okay,” Dino said. “Now I could use some more good news.”

  “All right,” Stone said, “here goes. Also found in Eduardo’s safe were bank records from accounts in Rome and Switzerland. There was about a million euros in the Rome account.”

  “And I get a chunk of that?”

  “After taxes and penalties,” Stone said, “about a quarter of a million euros, maybe three hundred thousand dollars.”

  “So now I’m up to seven hundred thousand dollars in windfall?”

  “More than that,” Stone said. “You’re forgetting the Swiss account.”

  “How much is in that?”

  “Approximately $238,000,000, depending on the value of the Swiss franc.”

  “Two hundred and thirty-eight million?”

  “Right. After taxes and penalties and Ben’s eighty percent cut, yours comes to about twenty-four million dollars.”

  “Twenty-four million?”

  “That is correct.”

  “American dollars?” Dino looked under the table. “Do you have another shopping bag or something?”

  “It would take a steamer trunk to hold that much,” Stone replied.

  “Okay, you got me,” Dino said. “Dinner is still on me, but what’s the joke?”

  Stone leaned forward and spoke softly, but with emphasis. “There is no joke, Dino. This is real.”

  Their chateaubriand arrived, as did their Opus One. Dino tasted it and approved.

  “I recommend decanting it,” the sommelier said.

  “Please do,” Dino replied.

  He did so, and the staff departed, leaving them to their dinner. Dino got quiet again. Not until he had finished his beef and started a second glass of wine did he speak again. “Assuming you’re not completely nuts—and I realize that’s a dangerous assumption—when do I receive all this money?”

  Stone unfolded the second sheet of paper he had taken from his pocket earlier and handed it to Dino, along with a pen. “Sign this receipt, and the four hundred thousand is yours to take home. I believe you have a police escort waiting.”

  Dino read the receipt, signed it, and gave Stone his pen back. “I guess I’ll have to pay a ton of taxes,” he said.

  “You pay nothing
. The estate pays the inheritance taxes and everything else, so your share is free and clear.”

  “What am I going to do with twenty-four million dollars?” Dino asked weakly.

  “You’ll think of something,” Stone replied. “In fact, you’ll think of lots of things. Don’t worry, Viv will help you with that. You might start by putting the four hundred thousand dollars in your bank, first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “When does the rest arrive?”

  “First I have to hear from my accounting firm that they have made a deal with the IRS; then I have to repatriate the funds into the estate’s account and pay the feds, then I can write you and Ben checks for your shares. Depending on how long the negotiations with Uncle Sam take, I’d guess a week or two.”

  “As quickly as that?”

  “Barring complications.”

  “What sort of complications?”

  “Unforeseen complications, and I don’t see any of those ahead.”

  Dino’s phone rang. “Hey,” he said, then listened. “You go ahead. I’ll be home pretty soon.” He hung up. “That was Viv. She said she’s tired and going straight home from the airport—and I’m not to wake her up when I come in.”

  “You can give her the good news in the morning, when you’re both fresh and rested.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m not going to sleep a wink. I’ll be exhausted in the morning.”

  “Take a pill. No, take two pills. And don’t go to work tomorrow.”

  “What am I going to do with all this money?”

  “Isn’t there something you want, that you could never afford?”

  “Well, let’s see. I could buy a jet airplane, but you’ve already got one, so I don’t need that. I could buy a vacation home, but you’ve got half a dozen, so I’d rather stay with you, free.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I could give some of it to Ben.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t do that, because Ben’s already a lot richer than you are.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Why don’t you wait until the funds are ready to be distributed before you tell him?”

  “I don’t want to tell him. I want you to tell him. It’s more official that way.”

  “If you like.”

  “I like. If I told him he might try to have me committed.”