“Cool.”
After Benji closed the trunk, Simon handed him a piece of paper. “Your next job. It’s in a town just north of San Francisco.”
“Okay. What’s the piece?”
“I’ll send you the information along with the security specs and blueprints of the location. It’s a quick turnaround.”
“How quick?”
“The sooner the better. Be on the first flight out tomorrow. If you see an opportunity tomorrow night, take it.”
“Tomorrow night? That’s kinda fast. We won’t have enough time to...”
Simon’s glare cut Benji off.
“Just do it.”
“Sure. Whatever you want.”
Nico Savage sat on the couch in his boss’s office, listening to Petry apply the hard sell to a potential client over the phone.
“I don’t understand your reluctance,” Petry was saying. “You won’t find a better company to partner with than us. With our help, you are all but guaranteed to succeed.”
Through the speaker, the CEO of the start-up Petry was courting said, “I’ve heard some disturbing news about a lawsuit brought against you that you lost.”
The muscles in Petry’s jaw flexed. “Oh, that. It’s not what you think. Sadly, the judge had it out for us right from the start and excluded vital information that would have exposed the other party as an opportunist trying to take advantage of me. We’ve appealed and are reliably told the judgment will be overturned.”
“You’re appealing?”
“You bet I am. In any sane courtroom, the suit would have been dismissed on the first day.”
Nico’s phone vibrated. He looked at the screen: No Caller ID. It could be any number of people, most of whom he would have no trouble ignoring. Unfortunately, there was at least one person he could not.
He accepted the call and whispered, “Yes?” into the receiver.
Petry shot him an annoyed glare, then continued on with whatever nonsense he’d been spewing.
“Nico? It’s Simon. Is this a bad time?”
“Depends on the reason you’re calling.”
“I have very good news.”
“Hold on.” Good news was something Petry should hear. Nico walked over to his boss and whispered in his ear, “It’s about the paintings.”
Petry’s eyes lit up. “Mr. Greer. Unfortunately, I have a meeting about to start. I’ll call you back and we can continue this discussion then.”
Greer said, “I don’t think that will be—”
“Bye now.” Petry hung up before Greer could say anything else. He pointed at Nico’s phone and mouthed, Put it on speaker.
Nico did so, then said, “Sorry about that, Simon. What’s this good news you wanted to share?”
“We are now in possession of our first Matilda Stone painting. It’s even on the list.”
Nico cringed.
“What’s that mean? On the list?” Petry whispered.
“I’ll tell you later,” Nico whispered back.
“Fine, but why only one?” Petry asked, his tone turning annoyed. “What’s the holdup?”
“I told you this would take time,” Nico whispered back. He raised his voice again, “Thank you, Simon. That is good—”
“Give that to me,” Petry said, no longer hiding his presence. He grabbed the phone out of Nico’s hand. “This is Winston Petry, Nico’s boss.”
“Mr. Petry, I didn’t realize you were there. A pleasure to meet you.”
“Yeah, yeah. How long is it going to be before you have any more?”
“I should have a second painting within a week, and a third a week after that.”
“That’s unacceptable,” he snapped.
“I’m sorry?”
“How many can you get by Friday?”
“This Friday? Are you joking?”
“Answer the question.”
“I don’t think we can get any others in that time frame.”
“Then the deal’s off. Keep the painting you have. I’ll keep my money. Oh, I’ll make sure anyone who wants to use your service knows how unaccommodating you can be.”
“Hold on,” Simon said. “Let’s not be hasty. What if I could deliver two?”
“Three, or I’m walking.”
“Why the rush? Is this for an event?”
“A private showing.”
“And you don’t care which ones we get?”
“As long as they were painted by Matilda Stone, I couldn’t give a shit. Can you do it or not?”
“I’ll need to check a few things, but—”
“See, I knew you could make it happen.”
“But not for the five hundred grand we agreed on.”
“A deal’s a deal.”
“Our deal gave me a month-long window, not four days.”
“Hang on for a moment,” Petry said, then muted the call. He shot Nico a look. “A month?”
“You and I discussed that, remember? You never said anything about wanting them by—”
Petry waved him off and unmuted the call. “What would you need to meet my deadline?”
“Double,” Simon said.
“A million? Are the pictures even worth that much?”
“This isn’t about worth. This is about the risks I will be taking to meet your deadline.”
Petry locked eyes with Nico as if this was all his fault. “Fine. One million.”
“Half now,” Simon said. “The rest on delivery.”
“And you’ll have them by Friday.”
“I’ll have obtained them by then, but the earliest I could get them to you in New York would be Saturday.”
“I don’t need them in New York. I need them in Los Angeles. Can you do that?”
“I might be able to arrange that. I would need to verify a few things first.”
“Then why are you still talking to me?” Petry snarled and disconnected the call.
“We never talked about Los Angeles,” Nico said. “Why there?”
Petry snorted. “I guess I’m better at digging up information than you.”
He plucked a thin folder from his desk and shoved it into Nico’s hands. Inside was a printout of a column from the Hollywood Reporter, covering upcoming industry events.
“The second item,” Petry said.
Nico skimmed down until he found it.
The board of directors for Centurion Pictures will conduct their quarterly meeting at the Studio on the twenty-third and twenty-fourth of this month. Rumor has it that Academy Award — winning producer Billy Barnett will host a dinner party at his house that Saturday evening for the attendees and invited guests.
“You told me yourself, Stone’s on the board, right?” Petry said.
Nico nodded.
“What better way to humiliate him than to destroy his mother’s precious paintings in front of all his business associates and friends?”
“About that.”
Petry tensed. “Is there a problem?”
“Quite the opposite.” Nico explained what Simon had meant about the list, while covering up how long Nico had known about it.
Petry let out a laugh. “That’s fucking fantastic. So, the paintings we’re going to rip apart are extra special to him?”
“At least one of them will be. The other two will depend on what they can get their hands on with the new timeline.” Nico could see his boss’s mood start to sour. “But they’ll all be by his mother and will still matter to him.”
“You damn well better be right.”
Instead of being elated at getting an additional half million from Petry, Simon felt uneasy.
He’d hedged about the delivery of the second painting. Barring a disaster, Benji should be handing it over to Simon on Wednesday. A third Stone would be tricky but doable. And an L.A. delivery wasn’t a problem, obviously.