The second floor where they sat was much different from the bar downstairs. Except for shoring up the floor and some rewiring, the first floor had been left as it was when Beck bought the building. But he’d gutted the two floors above the bar down to the bare walls and rafters, then built everything out to his exact specifications.
The second floor was now an open loft space. At the west end were three large comfortable couches surrounding a six-by-five-foot coffee table made of petrified wood, hard as iron, hundreds of years old.
Manny’s couch faced the bare brick north wall where a low mahogany credenza had been placed. On top of the credenza sat a fifty-five-inch LCD TV, with a cable box, Blu-Ray DVD player, DVR, speakers, and a few other pieces of equipment Beck didn’t really understand or care much about.
An eighteen-by-twenty-foot Oriental rug with blue and cream colors defined the seating area at the west end of the floor. Dark red velvet drapes covered a long set of double-paned windows at that end of the loft, lending warmth and privacy.
The rest of the space contained a large kitchen, a dining area with a rectangular oak table that could seat fourteen, and finally at the east end of the open space an office area where Beck’s custom-made desk sat holding his computer, printer, phones, and two monitors. Behind the desk, papers, books, and files were stored in floor-to-ceiling shelves.
Manny asked, “You really think this guy is going to come up with that amount of money?”
“Yes.”
Manny made a face. “If you say so.”
“I’m pretty sure Milstein gets it.”
“But not the other guy?”
“Probably not. Not yet.”
“Which is why you want to go see him.”
“Partly.”
“What’s the other part?”
“When was the last time you talked to Olivia?” Beck asked.
“Yesterday. After we talked, I told her you was coming up to see her.”
“You should have warned me.”
“’Bout what?”
“Her looks.”
“Easy, amigo, that’s my cousin.”
Beck smiled. “A cousin ain’t that close.”
“She is. Maybe the closest I’ll ever get to a daughter.”
“I know, I know. I get it.”
Manny took another sip of his Negra Modelo dark beer.
Beck lifted a rocks glass holding three fingers of Jameson, took a long sip and chased it with the same beer. Beck set his drink on the table and leaned forward. “Manny, the point I’m trying to make—her effect on men is another reason I want to see Crane.”
“What do you mean?”
“Guy does violence like that to a woman like Olivia, it’s crazy. I want to know what kind of crazy I’m dealing with.”
“What do you mean? You think she had something going with this guy Crane?”
Beck shook his head. “Not exactly. I got the feeling she was very careful about how she deals with men in her professional life. But maybe Crane had some shit in his head about her. Maybe this started with more than just her getting into his business. I won’t know until I see him.”
Manny nodded, thinking it over. “So you think this is something about Olivia rejecting this guy?”
Beck could see Manny’s anger rising, but he didn’t downplay it.
“Maybe. Maybe it’s part of it. Maybe not. Either way, I don’t want this asshole to think he can continue having anything to do with your cousin. No lawsuits. No blackballing. Nothing. And if he’s got some bullshit fantasy about her in his head, it stops. He stops even thinking about her. Not even in his dreams.”
Manny nodded, agreeing. He was silent for a few moments, and then he asked, “How’s some Wall Street fuck get the stones to do any of this shit?”
“It’s a good question. I asked Olivia.”
“What did she say?”
“She said the guy’s a bit crazy to begin with. Wired up tight because there’s a lot of money at stake. Enough to make him reckless. Also, turns out he runs money for some arms dealer. Olivia doesn’t know much about him other than he’s got connections and isn’t exactly legit. She thinks Crane is riding on his coattails. Tough guy by association.”
“An arms dealer? What the fuck is that? What’s that mean? Who is this guy? What’s he got going for him?”
“I don’t know. And frankly, I’d rather not turn over that rock. Let Crane and Milstein worry about their client. My guess is they’ll keep their mouths shut about this and pay the money to make this problem go away. Milstein gets it. Now I just want to make sure Mr. Crane understands he shouldn’t make the mistake of wearing someone else’s balls, or try to get in the way of this severance deal for Olivia.”
Manny nodded. “It’s either that, or just fucking kill him now and be done with it.”
Beck shook his head. “No. Killing him now isn’t the right move. Too much chance it will rebound onto Olivia.”
“I bet she’d stand up.”
“Maybe. But what’s the point? We get rid of one problem and create an even worse problem for her. Your cousin is a civilian. What she wants is her life back. She gets associated with a murder, no one on Wall Street will come within a mile of her. Plus, we’ll have cops and investigators and parole assholes crawling all over you. It’s almost certain you’d go back inside until we beat it.”
“Comes to that, I can deal with it.”
“It’s not an option.”
Manny made a face, and said, “Okay. We’ll go talk to this prick. Take care of it.”
“Not we. Not yet. Me.”
“You already told me he might be hooked up with some people.”
Beck shrugged. “I’ll make sure Crane gets the message to unhook himself.”
“Then bring Ciro with you.”
“Come on, Manny, Crane is no hard guy. His boss has already gotten a taste of Ciro. Probably already told Crane to stop fucking around. Let me seal the deal and be done with this.”
Manny finished his beer and set the bottle on the coffee table. He stared at Beck with his baleful eyes and said, “James, I know you always figure shit out five, six different ways, three, four steps ahead. So much I don’t even bother trying to track it. But just make sure this motherfucker don’t cause Olivia any more problems. Because if he does, he will be chopped up into little pieces and be so fucking gone there won’t be nothing left. Not a fucking cry, or a word, or a whisper. Nothing.”