“Having the die would be like having a license to print money, wouldn’t it?”
“It would be like not having a license to print money, just a printing press.”
“That would do me,” Dino said.
21
Stone was at his desk at the crack of ten. Joan had left a list of the bills needing to be paid, and it turned out to be a rather depressing list, since there was not enough cash in his bank account to meet them.
Joan came to his office door. “Good afternoon,” she said archly.
“Don’t start, Joan.”
“You saw what we owe?”
“Yes.”
“And what we have in the bank?”
“Yes. Use your own judgment as to which and how many to pay.”
“Is there any oil in the pipeline?” she asked.
“There is oil in the ground, and as soon as I locate it, there will be an abundance in the pipeline.”
“So much for geology,” she said, then returned to her office.
Stone called Bob Cantor.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Bob, you sound a little down.”
“I guess you could say that.”
“What’s the problem?”
“I can’t go into it.”
“Let me ask you a question: Was the guy you saw at Clarke’s Charlie Crow?”
There was a dead silence.
“Bob?”
“How did you know that?”
“The information came my way in connection with some work I’m doing for a client.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Bob, how else would I be able to guess that? And it was a guess.”
“I only saw him for a minute.”
“And he saw you.”
“Well, yeah.”