of the faith. 'He wanted to know if we would be interested in acquiring a twelfth century portrait of Christ.' Richland's expression suggested the transparency of such a ruse.
'Wheeler insists he is representing the owner,' North added. 'Naturally he refuses to acknowledge Dr Richland's claim of prior ownership. He's keeping it at a private bank in Zürich called Goetz and Ritter. From what we can tell, they don't run banks over there the way we do here.'
Malloy resisted a smile at this, and changed the subject. 'You're comfortable with the painting's authenticity?'
'I will be before I release the funds. I'm going over Sunday and will examine it Monday morning. If everything is in order and you agree to help, you'll join me Tuesday at the bank for the exchange. Once I've completed the transfer of funds, you'll take responsibility for getting the painting to New York.'
Richland squirmed uncomfortably. 'If something happened after you took possession, Mr Malloy, say for instance the police in Zürich stopped you, just how would you handle the matter?'
'If I take the job, I'll arrange matters so that nobody stops me, Reverend.'
'You didn't exactly answer my question.'
'Let me make something clear to you. How I work is my business. This much I can tell you: I'll either bring the painting to you or I'll be dead, and someone in my employ will deliver it.'
The Rev. J. W. Richland sat back and considered this for a moment. Malloy was a quiet, dark-haired man fast approaching fifty. He had never been the muscular commando-type. He had built his career on his insight into human nature, the art of persuasion, and by inspiring loyalty in those people he recruited to work for him. When he made a promise, he kept it. When he worked a job, he got it done - one way or the other. After a quarter of a century of handling whatever came at him, he didn't especially care to explain himself to amateurs. 'That's quite a statement,' Richland said finally.
'You're hiring me to do a job you don't think your own people can handle. It goes without saying you want someone who is ready for every contingency. When I tell you the police aren't going to stop me, believe it.'
'Well then,' Richland answered, 'I suppose the only thing left is to persuade you to take the job!' The preacher's expression suggested that he was a man accustomed to getting his own way but was not at all reluctant to engage in the hard give-and-take of negotiations. 'I propose an advance of ten thousand dollars to cover your expenses and another one hundred thousand dollars cash the moment you hand me the painting.' Richland seemed proud of his offer, as if he assumed Malloy would not have dreamed of asking for such a figure.
'I'm financing two security teams, one in Switzerland and one here. These people don't come cheaply, Reverend, and neither do I.'
Richland seemed surprised, but managed to ask politely, 'What exactly do you need?'
'One hundred thousand advance. Four hundred thousand cash when I hand you the painting.'
'That's ridiculous!' Richland tried to laugh, but he wasn't doing a very good job.
Malloy stood up and started for the door. 'I'm sorry I wasted your time. I thought you understood what you are asking me to do.'
'Now just a minute!'
At the door Malloy turned back and smiled cordially, ignoring Richland's protest. 'It was a pleasure to meet you both.'
'You're talking about a great deal of money!' Richland shouted.
'I'm sure you'll find someone in your price range,' Malloy answered with a condescending smile.
Nicole North spoke. 'You have a deal, Mr Malloy.'
Malloy looked at the preacher for confirmation, but J. W. Richland looked suddenly more like the woman's lapdog than a dealmaker.
Malloy and his fiancée lived in a converted warehouse that faced Ninth Avenue. Empty lots lay to either side and behind it. Two years ago a contact in Europe, using a series of dummy corporations to cover his tracks, had arranged to buy the building and asked
Learning to Kill: Stories