"Please, call me Scott!"
"OK . . .Scott. What I'm trying to say is that what you say you have, you can't have cause it never existed."
"What do you mean never existed?" Scott was confused, terribly confused all of sudden. He raised his voice. "Listen, I have reams of paper here that say someone at First State is a big crook. Then you say, 'sure it's real' and now you don't. What's your game, Mister?" Playing good-cop bad-cop alone was diffi- cult, but a little pressure may bring this guy down to reality.
"Obviously you have them, that's not the point." Sidneys reacted submissively to Scott's ersatz domineering personality. "The only place that those figures ever existed was in my mind and in my computer. I never made a printout. They were never put on paper." Hugh said resolutely.
Scott's mind whirred. Something is wrong with this picture. He has papers that were never printed, or so says a guy whose sta- bility is currently in question. The contents would have far reaching effects on the S&L issue. A highly visible tip of the iceberg. McMillan, involved in that kind of thing? Never, not Mr. Clean. What was Sidneys getting at?
"Mr. Sidneys . . .Hugh . . .do you have time to have a cup of coffee somewhere. It might be easier if we sat face to face. Get to know each other."
Rosie's Diner was one of the better Greasy Spoons near the Hudson River docks on Manhattan's West Side. The silver interior and exterior was not a cliche when this diner was built. Rosie, all 280 pounds of her, kept the UPS truckers coming back for over thirty years. A lot of the staff at the paper ate here, too. For the best tasting cholesterol in New York, saturated fats, bacon and sausage grease flavored starches, Rosie's was the place. Once a month at Rosie's would guarantee a reading of over 300.
Scott recognized Hugh from a distance. No one came in there dressed. Had to be an accountant. Hugh hugged his briefcase while nervously looking around the diner. Scott called the short pale man over to the faded white formica and dull chrome booth. Hugh ordered a glass of water, while Scott tried to make a light dinner of it.
"So, Hugh, please continue with what you were telling me on the phone." Scott tried to sound empathetic.
"It's like I said, I don't know how you got them or they found out. It's impossible." The voice was uncannily like Pebbles Flintstone in person.