Page 57 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

“Forty percent.”

“Of what?”

“Every job it plays a part in.”

Simon laughed.

“Look,” Dalton said. “My ass is on the line every time I dig something up for you. I deserve at least that much.” He waved the thumb drive in the air. “Or I could just take this and leave right now.”

“Relax, Dalton. I didn’t say no, did I?”

“No, you laughed.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

Dalton stood up. “I’ve told you what I want. Call me when you’re ready to take me seriously.”

Simon held up a hand to stop him from leaving. “I might be able to swing twenty percent, but only if you increase the amount of information that you provide.”

“Increase how?”

“On top of my regular requests, you’ll proactively send me anything you think I will be interested in. And you’ll develop sources at other companies who will supply you with similar intelligence on their clients.”

“I’ll need money to pay them.”

“Anything you pay them will come out of your cut, just like operation expenses come out of mine.”

“Thirty-five percent.”

“Twenty-five.”

“Make it a straight third and you have a deal.”

Simon shrugged and nodded. “A third it is.”

Dalton could barely contain his excitement. Even with the cost of a few lackies at other companies, he should be able to hold on to more money than he’d realistically hoped to get.

He took a step closer to Simon and held out his hand. “Deal.”

—

While Phillip escorted Dalton out, Simon plugged the thumb drive into his laptop and quickly scanned through the files.

Vitale insured seven clients who owned Matilda Stones. There was one painting each in Boston, Chicago, and Dallas, and four in California.

Or there soon would be four.

One of the paintings had recently been purchased by someone in Los Angeles. The buyer was not insured by Vitale, but the auction house that sold it was. On the thumb drive was information on how and when it was being delivered. And best of all, it was one of the paintings on the list from Nico. Sadly, none of the others were.

Phillip entered the room.

“He’s gone?” Simon asked.

“Yeah. Do you want me to deal with him now?”

“Not yet. If what he’s given me doesn’t work out, I may need him to find alternatives.”

“Just say the word.” Phillip dipped his head and left.

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