She headed in that direction, making sure her cell phone was in her pocket. She made it to the bathroom without attracting any notice, locked the door, confident it would block the sound of her conversation.
She pulled out her phone and dialed Crane’s number from memory. She’d made sure not to store his number on her phone. And was going to be sure to erase the call from her phone log.
She waited anxiously for him to answer. She didn’t want to be in the bathroom for too long.
After five rings she heard Crane’s voice. “Finally. Talk fast, I’m tracking a ton of positions. What’s going on?”
“I’m at Beck’s place in Red Hook. As predicted, Beck is going after the money.”
“Good. What’s he doing about Markov?”
“Like we figured. He’s going to try and buy him off with his own money. Where’s Markov? Is he watching you?”
“No. I haven’t seen him since Wednesday noon. My bet, he’s busy trying to track down Beck.” Olivia didn’t mention anything about how close Markov had come to getting both her and Beck at the Four Seasons. “Beck had another run-in with Markov’s security goon. Beat the crap out of him. They want to kill Beck in the worst way. Your buddy better stay alive long enough to make his move on the money.”
“Well, I can tell you he’s got a lot of tough guys here with guns and rifles.”
“Good. You know how he’s going to go for the money?”
“Not exactly. But he has a first-rate computer guy who knows a lot about trading tracking all your moves. And I’ll help them over any bumps.”
“Yeah, that guy must be pretty good. I didn’t make it too easy so they wouldn’t get suspicious, but Beck’s guy made it through all my security. What’s he got on my computer?”
“I think he downloaded your entire hard drive, and put some sort of tracker program in. Then he tapped into your Internet connection somehow. Whatever he did, they see what you’re doing, so just keep going however you want. When do you intend to close out the last positions?”
“Exactly when we planned. What’s your cousin doing, by the way?”
“Whatever Beck tells him. Beck runs the show.”
“Okay. And you can make sure they stay with my moves?”
“Definitely. But why are you slowing down the transfers in the consolidated account?”
“No need to put things in there before Markov pushes me. I want as much time as I can to close out some of my options contracts. Every tick down on my puts cuts my losses. I’m still under fucking water on a lot of this. He’s not going to be very happy.”
“Wait until he sees Beck stole it.”
“You sure he’s going after the money?”
“Absolutely. Trust me, he figured this out himself. I didn’t even have to suggest it.”
Crane laughed. “The goddamn fox in the chicken coop. This is really something.”
“I wouldn’t play this so tight, Alan. There’s plenty of money. Just get it assembled.”
“Hey, every fucking dime I make is a dime we keep.”
“All right, all right. Just remember, it’s going to be me who has to make the last move here. Give me enough time.”
“Second to last move.”
“Right. Right. You’re set in Switzerland?”
“Yes. It’s not the most secret place anymore, but it’ll be fine for what we need to do. And it’s the most fucking civilized. A great jumping-off spot for us.”
“Okay. Gotta go.”
She broke the connection, but sat in the bathroom, running over everything one more time. She was sure that Alan Crane wanted her with him, just like every man she’d ever gotten close to. In fact, not only did Crane want her, he actually thought he deserved her.
She finished up in the bathroom and went back to her seat next to Alex Liebowitz. She sat down, wondering how she might convince him to let her track Crane’s transactions while he took a shower. Then again, she thought, if this geek doesn’t have any clean clothes, it’s not going to make much of a difference.
Thursday trading would close soon. Then one more day, Friday. Thirty hours or so and she’d be set for the rest of her life.
If they weren’t all dead by then.
55
Beck slipped out of sight behind a panel truck a little less than a block away from his building.
He watched the bearded mercenary meet his two partners right in front of the bar. Manny slipped in next to Beck behind the truck. He already had his Charter Arms in his hand. There was no sign of Demarco.
The bearded leader motioned for the others to spread out. He sent one across the street and one back to the corner of Reed Street. They took up positions so that they could spot anyone approaching on any of the streets leading to Beck’s building. Beck’s tension dropped several notches knowing that backpack wasn’t near his bar anymore.
It seemed obvious to Beck that they weren’t here for an attack. They were here to plan one.
Okay, let them plan.
Beck pulled out his cell phone and dialed Ciro as he watched the bearded leader shield his eyes and try to look into the bar through the front window. Willie had painted the bottom third of the new front window. There was no way he could get a quick view inside, unless he stretched his full height to see over the black paint.
Ciro answered. “Three guys, right?”
“Yeah. Listen, I don’t think they’re here to start anything. So what I want you to do is let them see people inside. I want these fuckers to think they’re finding shit out.”
“You sure? Why not take them out now? Less trouble later.”
“No. You stay upstairs. If they make any noise or knock on the door, you peer out from behind the curtain. Everyone stays inside. Don’t open the door. Just let them see that you’re watching.”
“Okay.”
“If they take out their guns or make a move, I’ll let you know. Put your phone on speaker and keep it near you, but don’t let them see you talking.”
“All right.”
“Make sure Joey B has a good shooting angle in case I’m wrong, and they decide to rush the place. Tell Alex to go downstairs and move around behind the bar like he’s looking for something, then go back upstairs.”
“Got it.”
“Keep your rifle ready, Ciro, just in case.”