Near Miss

“Whoever you give it to, you should be represented in such a transaction,” Stone replied.

“Will you represent me as my attorney in this matter?”

Stone thought about it for a millisecond. “Yes,” he said. “Normally I would not, since we both have a stake in the outcome.”

“Do we not have the same stake? Our lives?”

“Yes, so there is no conflict of interests.”

“As my lawyer, what do you think we should do?”

“I expect that the Greek has committed crimes in Maine, New York, and, perhaps, in other cities and states. We could pick one, but I think it’s better, in this case, to go federal, if the evidence you have supports a federal crime.”

“How about income tax evasion?”

“Very good. That’s how Eliot Ness got Al Capone, when he couldn’t get him for anything else.”

“So, we go to the FBI?”

“Yes, but the right person at the FBI.”

“And who might that be?”

“I might not trust most of the agents I have dealt with, but there is one who should be a straight enough arrow for this. His name is Thomas Kinder; he’s assistant director for financial crimes.”

“Whoever you wish.”

Stone dug a throwaway cell phone from his desk drawer and dialed a number. “Assistant Director Kinder, please,” he said to the person who answered.

A moment later, another man came on the line. “This is Assistant Director Kinder.”

Stone put the phone on speaker. “Tom, it’s Stone Barrington.”

“Good day, Stone. What a surprise to hear from you.”

“I have something that should go to someone at your level and not to the New York office.”

“Well, I am at my level. Shoot.”

“I have a client who is in possession of sufficient evidence of tax evasion and fraud to put Alexei Gromyko and many members of his organization in prison for a long time.”

“So, you’re playing Eliot Ness?”

“No, you are, if you want this case.”

“In what form is the evidence?”

“It’s on a thumb drive.”

“And over what period of time were these crimes committed?”

“Seven years.”

“And this witness is inside Gromyko’s organization?”

“He was, until recently.”

“And what does he expect for his cooperation?”

“The usual: immunity for any crime he may ever have committed and, very possibly, witness protection.” Stone looked at Greco to confirm, which Greco did with a slight nod.

“And where is this witness now?”

“In New York City.”

“Where in New York City?”

“In a safe place. You will have access to him as soon as you agree, in writing, to a fulsome statement of immunity, and an agreement that you, and only you, will deal with my client.”

“This is an organization. He cannot deal only with me.”

“You or those under your direct supervision,” Stone said.

“Agreed.”

Stone gave him his fax number and email address. “When can we expect you in New York?”

“Are you free for dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Is the witness?”

“As long as dinner is at my house.”

“Is seven o’clock good?”

“Just fine.”

“I’ll bring an associate for dinner, and two other agents will come along to handle video and audio equipment.”

“I can feed them, too, but less sumptuously.”

“They can rough it.”

Stone gave Kinder directions on how to enter his garage from the avenue. “Your men can unload their gear in the garage. Don’t arrive in vehicles with blue lights on top.”

“Got it. We’ll bring body armor, as well.”

“Good. You may need it. I can put up you and your agent in my house. The tech people will have to find a hotel cheap enough to satisfy you.”

“See you at seven.”

“Make it six-thirty, if you want a drink before dinner.”

“Considering who I’m dealing with, I’ll stick to lemonade.”

Stone called Joan next. “Please call Mike Freeman and tell him my request for his people to stand down was premature.”

“On it,” Joan said.

Stone hung up and turned to Greco. “We’re all set. Will it upset your wife if you sleep here tonight, instead of going to wherever home is at the moment?”

“That will be fine.”

“I can have someone pick up some clothes for you.”

“Suite One, Waldorf Towers. I’ll phone my wife and ask her to pack a bag for me.”

“Okay. I’m going to ask a young woman, a lawyer at my firm, to join us. She has a prodigious memory, so we won’t have to take notes. I’ll get us a copy of whatever the FBI records, too.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought of everything,” Greco said.

“I hope to God that’s true,” Stone replied.

Stone phoned Carly Riggs and asked her to come to his study at six o’clock. “This will be a business dinner,” he said to her.

“And what do you require of me at this dinner?” she asked, when she was seated in his study.

“I require you to remember whatever is said, and to prepare a transcript from memory.”

“Who are the attendees?”

“Thomas Kinder, assistant director of the FBI for financial crimes, and an agent of his choosing. There will also be two technicians hovering about to make audio and video records of what transpires.”

“Who’s the client?”

“A new one: Peter Greco, né Egon Pentkovsky.”

“Of the Russian mob Pentkovskys? Brothers, right? Anton Pentkovsky was in charge prior to Serge Gromyko.”