by Stuart Woods
“I don’t think so. Al Junior works under contract, and he no longer has an employer with any interest in you or yours.”
“Well, as far as I’m concerned, whoever assisted Dr. Don into the next life has done the world a favor,” Stone said.
“I tend to agree. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“Agreed. What are your plans now that you’ve wrapped the film?”
“I suppose we’ll all go back to L.A. shortly. I understand from Peter that Ben and Centurion Studios are having talks about his replacing the retiring CEO as head of the studio.”
“Then I’m glad Peter has you to back him up.”
“And I’m glad to be able to help him. I find the work very satisfying. What are your plans?”
“I think I’m going to have to get back to New York and repair some bridges with Woodman & Weld, who seem to think I have spent too much time here of late.”
“It’s nice to be needed,” Billy observed.
“That remains to be seen,” Stone replied. “I like it here so much that I’m afraid New York won’t satisfy me the way it always has.”
“Do I detect a midlife crisis in the offing?”
“That remains to be seen,” Stone said. “Dino and Viv are returning for the wedding, and when that’s over, we’ll all be on our way back.”
“And Susan Blackburn?”
“She can’t be parted from her expanding business.”
“Oh, well.”
“Oh, well, indeed.”
60
Rain fell hard on the roof of the country church, and its pews were full, with others standing at the rear, as last services were conducted for Sir Charles Bourne. As the service ended, the rain stopped and sunshine began to pour through the stained-glass windows.
The grave had been sheltered from the storm by a tent, and this was taken away as the crowd assembled at the burial site. Another short ceremony was conducted, along with a final prayer, and the pallbearers lowered the coffin into its receptacle.
As the crowd lined up to offer their condolences to the widow, then drifted back toward the car park, Stone saw Lady Bourne in conversation with Deputy Chief Inspector Holmes. He tipped his hat and left her to deal with the last mourners.
Stone caught up with the policeman in the car park. “Did Lady Bourne have anything new to say to you?” he asked.
“There was a deathbed confession,” Holmes replied. “Your theory was confirmed.”
“Is there anything else to be done?”
“No, I don’t think so. My chief inspector will feel the same way, I think. I understand you’ve a wedding this evening.”
“That’s correct—a double wedding, actually.”
“Then please offer my best wishes to the four of them.”
“I will do that.”
The two men shook hands, and Holmes drove away.
—
The ceremony took place in the great hall at Curtis House, officiated by two priests, an Anglican and a Catholic. Close to forty guests had arrived from London and the States.
Stone stood with Dino and Viv, plus Mary Ann Bacchetti, Ben’s mother. “They’re a handsome group, aren’t they?” Mary Ann observed of the crowd. “They all look right out of Central Casting as a Hollywood crowd.”
“And none handsomer than the celebrants,” Dino added.
“Isn’t this where the brides and grooms are supposed to make their escapes for their respective honeymoons?” Viv asked.
“There’s a Centurion Studios Gulfstream waiting for them at the airstrip,” Stone said. “They’ll sleep in Cannes tonight. After the honeymoon, the airplane will come back here to pick up a few others of the crew, then fly them all, nonstop, back to Los Angeles.”
“And when are you all going back?” Mary Ann asked.
“Tomorrow morning, in my airplane. May we give you a lift back to New York?”
“Thank you, but I’m spending a few days in London with friends, as long as I’m on this side of the pond. Can your airplane make the trip nonstop?”
“No, we’ll stop for fuel at Santa Maria, in the Azores, then again at St. John’s, Newfoundland, thence to Teterboro.”
There was a move of the crowd toward the front door, to wave off the happy couples, then the party resumed without them.
—
The following morning their luggage was loaded aboard the Citation CJ3 Plus, and Stone ran through his checklists, then taxied to the end of the runway and took off. Turning west, with the sun at their backs, the light jet climbed to forty thousand feet and was cleared on course to Santa Maria.
—
Late that night, tired from his long flight, Stone slept in his own New York bed. Once, he had to get up and he was disoriented, thinking he was still at Windward House.
By tomorrow morning he would have made the adjustment, except for the jet lag.
He already missed England.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I am happy to hear from readers, but you should know that if you write to me in care of my publisher, three to six months will pass before I receive your letter, and when it finally arrives it will be one among many, and I will not be able to reply.
However, if you have access to the Internet, you may visit my website at www.stuartwoods.com, where there is a button for sending me e-mail. So far, I have been able to reply to all my e-mail, and I will continue to try to do so.
If you send me an e-mail and do not receive a reply, it is probably because you are among an alarming number of people who have entered their e-mail address incorrectly in their mail software. I have many of my replies returned as undeliverable.
Remember: e-mail, reply; snail mail, no reply.
When you e-mail, please do not send attachments, as I never open these. They can take twenty minutes to download, and they often contain viruses.
Please do not place me on your mailing lists for funny stories, prayers, political causes, charitable fund-raising, petitions, or sentimental claptrap. I get enough of that from people I already know. Generally speaking, when I get e-mail addressed to a large number of people, I immediately delete it without reading it.
Please do not send me your ideas for a book, as I have a policy of writing only what I myself invent. If you send me story ideas, I will immediately delete them without reading them. If you have a good idea for a book, write it yourself, but I will not be able to advise you on how to get it published. Buy a copy of Writer’s Market at any bookstore; that will tell you how.
Anyone with a request concerning events or appearances may e-mail it to me or send it to: Publicity Department, Penguin Random House LLC, 375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014.
Those ambitious folk who wish to buy film, dramatic, or television rights to my books should contact Matthew Snyder, Creative Artists Agency, 9830 Wilshire Boulevard, Beverly Hills, CA 98212-1825.
Those who wish to make offers for rights of a literary nature should contact Anne Sibbald, Janklow & Nesbit, 445 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10022. (Note: This is not an invitation for you to send her your manuscript or to solicit her to be your agent.)
If you want to know if I will be signing books in your city, please visit my website, www.stuartwoods.com, where the tour schedule will be published a month or so in advance. If you wish me to do a book signing in your locality, ask your favorite bookseller to contact his Penguin representative or the Penguin publicity department with the request.
If you find typographical or editorial errors in my book and feel an irresistible urge to tell someone, please write to Sara Minnich at Penguin’s address above. Do not e-mail your discoveries to me, as I will already have learned about them from others.
A list of my published works appears in the front of this book and on my website. All the novels are still in print in paperback and can be found at or ordered from an
y bookstore. If you wish to obtain hardcover copies of earlier novels or of the two nonfiction books, a good used-book store or one of the online bookstores can help you find them. Otherwise, you will have to go to a great many garage sales.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
STUART WOODS is the author of more than sixty novels. He is a native of Georgia and began his writing career in the advertising industry. Chiefs, his debut in 1981, won the Edgar Award. An avid sailor and pilot, Woods lives in Florida, Maine, and New Mexico.
STUARTWOODS.COM
FACEBOOK.COM/STUARTWOODSAUTHOR
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