Read Online Among Thieves by John Clarkson - Free Book Online

twenty-seventh and eighth floors. Milstein works on twenty-eight. Crane, too. But at separate ends of the floor.”
    â€œHow late does Milstein work?”
    â€œUntil six. Pretty much on the dot.”
    â€œWhat about Crane?”
    â€œIt varies. He’s one of those guys where things revolve around his schedule. He has a place in Miami, and he lives in a loft in Tribeca. Both residences are hooked in with the Summit computer system. He works from home quite a bit.”
    â€œWhere does Milstein live?”
    â€œSeventy-ninth and Park. He has his driver pick him up and take him home, even though it’s only a fifteen-minute walk. Always the same driver. A big guy. Ex-cop.”
    Beck reacted immediately. “An ex-cop?”
    â€œYes. I guess he’s sort of a bodyguard, too.”
    â€œWhy would Milstein need a bodyguard?”
    â€œI don’t think he does. He’s mostly a driver, but Milstein thinks it’s cool to keep a big guy with a gun around who people will assume is a bodyguard. Like a status symbol or something.”
    Beck frowned. Armed ex-cops didn’t exactly fit in with a Wall Street type.
    â€œAll right, let’s leave it at that for now. If I need to, I’ll be in touch. If we get lucky, you won’t hear from me until this is over.”
    â€œRight.”
    Olivia stepped toward Beck and took hold of his forearm. He could smell her soap, or shampoo. Something fresh. Something that fit her exactly.
    â€œThank you,” she said.
    She was holding his arm firmly. The contact unnerved him, which surprised Beck. The closeness of her, the touch, she had crossed the normal barrier that separated them.
    Beck gave in to the desire to touch her back. He placed his hand on top of her hand, almost as if he were going to remove it. Her skin was incredibly smooth and warm. It seemed as if he could actually feel the sheen of it.
    â€œOkay,” he said.
    She let go of his forearm; he let her hand fall away from his immediately.
    She turned away from Beck, leading him back to her front door. He took his coat from her, nodded once, and walked out the door, wanting to get outside quickly, to get away from Olivia Sanchez.
    In a moment, he was making his way through the Escher-like maze of staircases and arches and walkways that connected the condo’s units. He checked his watch. He’d been there nearly an hour.
    He spotted the black Mercury parked at the fire hydrant about thirty feet down the block. He slid into the passenger seat. Settled back and exhaled.
    Demarco looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “What?”
    Beck shook his head. “Christ.”
    â€œChrist what?”
    â€œChrist sake this isn’t what I expected.”
    â€œHow so?”
    Beck grimaced, scratched the back of his neck, ran his hand back and forth over the top of his head.
    â€œThat bad?”
    â€œYeah. Maybe. I don’t know. Not good.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œIt sounds like there might be some nasty players behind this.”
    â€œLike who?”
    â€œLike a fucking Russian arms dealer for starters.”
    Demarco frowned. “How’d that happen?”
    â€œMoney, man. A lot of fucking money.”
    â€œSo now what?”
    â€œI gotta get a handle on this fast. Have to try and make things right for Manny’s cousin, at least right enough so Manny will back off for now. And do it fast before too many snakes crawl out from under rocks.” Beck’s voice faded out, lost in his thoughts. “And not leave any trail.” Beck shook his head, stared out the windshield. “Shit.”
    Demarco didn’t bother asking Beck what he was wrestling with. He just repeated, “So now what?”
    Beck looked at his watch. Almost five o’clock. There was time.
    â€œFifty-seventh and Lex.”

 
    5
    Traveling against the rush hour traffic, Demarco and Beck reached Milstein’s office building on the northwest corner of