Out on the Rim by Ross Thomas Page B

supposed to ask why it should be split five ways,” Stallings said, “and you’ll come back with some compelling reason that’ll make me agree.”
    â€œThe reason’s simple,” she said. “It’ll be far easier for you to pull it off with me than without me. In fact, without me it’ll be damned near impossible.”
    â€œNot much on preliminary bullshit, are you?” Stallings said with a twitch of a smile.
    â€œIt’s a waste of time,” she said, continuing to study him. “Well?”
    â€œOkay,” Stallings said with a shrug. “Five ways—a million each.”
    Otherguy Overby let out the breath he had been holding and nodded comfortably. “Makes more sense all the way around,” he said.

CHAPTER 12
    For the second time in his life Booth Stallings flew first-class. The first time had been nearly five years before when a Swedish small-arms manufacturer had flown him to a sales conference in London to deliver an ill-received paper Stallings perversely had entitled: “Terrorism: the Exciting Hot New Industry.”
    Otherguy Overby had insisted on first-class to Manila as a matter of front and, by chance, Stallings had two seats to himself. Across the aisle were Overby and Georgia Blue who scarcely spoke to each other. After the 747 was thirty minutes out of Los Angeles, and after an overly solicitous flight attendant had pressed a second martini on him, Stallings rose, tapped Overby on the shoulder and said, “My turn.”
    Georgia Blue watched as Stallings slipped into the vacated seat with his drink and said, “Tell me about the money.”
    â€œThe five million,” she said.
    Stallings nodded.
    â€œIt’s real,” she said.
    â€œWhere is it?”
    â€œIt’ll be in the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank—their new headquarters on Des Voeux Road.”
    â€œThat’s where it’ll be. Not where it is.”

    â€œRight now it’s where it can be wire-transferred without bothering Washington.”
    â€œNot in the States then, right?”
    She smiled.
    â€œWhen’ll Harry wire it?”
    â€œWhen I tell him to.”
    â€œBy code?”
    Again, she smiled.
    â€œLike to share the code—since we’re partners and all?”
    â€œNot just yet.”
    â€œWhose money is it?”
    â€œWho cares? Which means I don’t know.”
    â€œHarry gave me some crap about it coming from a business consortium.”
    â€œCrap’s a fairly apt description.”
    â€œThink it’s Langley money?”
    She shook her head.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œThey wouldn’t go through Harry. They’ve got their own proprietary false fronts.”
    â€œLike to hear what I think?” Stallings said after ten seconds of silence.
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œI think the money’s coming from someone who won’t send after it when it disappears.”
    â€œHarry’ll send after it,” she said. “And if we work it just right, he’ll send me.”
    Stallings grinned. “Now there’s a pretty notion.”
    â€œYes, isn’t it though,” she said.
    Stallings leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes and said, “Now tell me about you and Otherguy.”
    Georgia Blue thought before replying, “He was a bad accident that happened in Guadalajara when I was twenty and he was thirty-one,
or so he claimed, except you never can tell about Otherguy because he lies so much.”
    â€œBut he’s good at what he does,” Stallings said, opening his eyes.
    She shrugged. “He’s in the top forty anyhow.”
    Despite Stallings’ encouraging nod, Georgia Blue volunteered nothing else. After fifteen seconds went by, he said, “So what did Treasury have you doing?”
    â€œI guarded the bodies of the wives and mistresses of visiting prime ministers, premiers, presidents, potentates and what have you. Actually, I was the maid