Criminal Mischief by Stuart Woods Read Free Book Online Page A

It will happen this morning.”
    “Oh, I’m not worried about it, Mr. Barrington. We’ve dealt with you for some years, and I know we can expect you to do the right thing.”
    “What’s the ‘right thing’?” Stone asked.
    “Just wire transfer us the funds, and when Ms. Crosse’s check clears, we’ll wire it right back to you.”
    “Well, ah . . .”
    “You did say you vouched for her.”
    “Right, I did. Give me your wiring information.” The man had it ready, and Stone wrote it down. “I’ll wire it straightaway,” Stone said. “Oh, what’s the exact amount?”
    “Let’s call it an even $266,000. That car has a lot of options bolted onto it.”
    “Right. Sit by your phone.”
    “Don’t worry, I’ll be right here.”
    Stone hung up and called Joan.
    “Yes, boss?”
    “I’d like you to wire transfer some funds to the Bentley dealer right away. Got a pencil?”
    “Ready.”
    Stone gave her the wiring information.
    “What’s the amount?”
    “An even $266,000. Do we have that much in my account?”
    “We do.”
    “And do it right now, please.”
    “Yes, sir, right away.”
    Stone went downstairs and settled in behind his desk. The phone rang. “Yes?”
    “Stephen, from Bentley on one for you.”
    Stone picked up. “Yes, Stephen?”
    “The funds arrived,” the man said. “Don’t worry, we’ll get the sum right back to you as soon as we hear from Ms. Crosse’s bank.”
    “Thank you, Stephen.” He hung up and grabbed his coffee mug. At nine-thirty, Joan buzzed him. “Kitty Crosse on one for you. Is that a real person?”
    “Yes, it is.” He took a deep breath and pressed the button. “Yes, Kitty?”
    “Oh, hello, Stone.”
    “I trust you’ve heard from your bank. I had to wire the dealer the funds to cover you.”
    “Oh, that was so sweet of you, Stone.”
    “Everything okay now?”
    “Well, it should be.”
    “ Should be?”
    “I’ve been calling my broker, but they’re not answering. The phone just rings and rings.”
    Stone frowned. “Who is your broker?”
    “Viktor Zanian, with a k .”
    Stone clapped his hand over his mouth, so if he vomited, it wouldn’t go all over his desk.
    “How much do you have in your account there?” he managed to ask.
    “Oh, several million. More than enough to cover the Bentley.” He could hear a ringing noise in the background. “I’ll have to call you back, Stone. My other line is ringing.”
    “Kitty . . .” But she had already hung up. Stone plucked a fistful of tissues from the box on his desk. He mopped his brow and took deep breaths to dispel the nausea. The phone rang. “Yes?”
    “It’s that Ms. Crosse again.”
    “Right.” He pressed the button. “Yes, Kitty?”
    “Oh, Stone, I’ve just had some awful news,” she said. “A woman from the Zanian Fund just called and said that there was some sort of glitch, and they don’t have access to my funds. What do you suppose that means?”
    Stone took another deep breath. “It very likely means that your funds are in an offshore account somewhere—who knows where.”
    “Why would Mr. Zanian take my money offshore?”
    “Kitty, do you read the newspapers or listen to the news on TV? Ever?”
    “Well, hardly ever. What kind of question is that?”
    “If you paid any attention at all, you wouldn’t have to ask that question.”
    “Stone, do please try and make some sense.”
    “Sit down and listen to me, and I’ll explain it to you. Viktor Zanian, when last seen by anyone, was getting off a private jet in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, with several pieces of luggage.”
    “Well, when one travels, one takes luggage, doesn’t one?”
    “Yes, but Mr. Zanian’s luggage contains all the funds you deposited with him, and those of many other unfortunate clients, as well. Mr. Zanian’s offices have been padlocked by the U.S. government, and the FBI is looking for him, which is why no one is answering his phone.”
    “Stone, that is just not possible. Viktor Zanian