He clicked on his mouse in an attempt to keep some perspective and do some work, but it was futile. The numbers on his spread sheet jumped about rando...ly and all he could think about was Jana, bent over his desk. The security guy popped his head round the corner of the office, checked the windows perfunctorily and disappeared, for another hour. Jana finished the bit of dusting she was on and peeked at Neil, who was staring pointlessly into his monitor. “Are you ready for me?” His cock had been. “Oh. Nice pen. Waterman. I forgot to give it back,” I said. “Now, Liebowitz. What the hell is your name, man?” He laughed.“Al.”“Al, I’m Tony and this is Melody. Our distinguished Mr. Smith is Bob Bowers, the critic whose review ran in this morning’s paper.”“Geez. You guys just pulled off a hell of a coup. I don’t think they’ve ever made so much money on a show before. Not without stealing the art and reselling it later.”“How the hell do they stay in business?” I asked.“I think they launder. More

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