Standup Guy (Stone Barrington)

by Stuart Woods

  “Who owns the airplane?”

  “A guy I know runs a charter company. He buys time on airplanes from various corporations, time when they’d otherwise be sitting on the ground waiting for some CEO to fly somewhere. We’ve got the airplane for three full days.”

  “That’s good work, Marty, I’m proud of you.”

  He grinned. “Thanks, babe. Oh, and you were right about not offing Barrington. At first I thought you were getting sentimental over him, but after thinking about it, he can’t hurt us.”

  “We don’t want to kill anybody at the cabin, either,” she said.

  “I know, but we have to be ready to do it if it’s called for. I mean, if there’s more than one car, or three or four guys get out of the car, then we’re at war. No way around that.”

  “Let’s don’t get into that position,” she said. “Remember to be charming. Charm works.”

  “Up to a point.”

  “Oh, what are we going to do with the counter-sorter?”

  “We’ll dump it in the lake as soon as we make the cash swap.”

  “Good. We don’t want to leave it in the van or the cottage, and we want to Windex the van all over to get rid of prints.”

  “I’ve never been arrested,” Marty said, “so I’ve never been printed. You?”

  “Nope. I’m squeaky clean.”

  “Squeaky clean, I like that. Oh, I got a number in Rio—we can get new passports.”

  “Fine. Maybe we’ll go to Europe from there. You’d like Rome. You speak Italian?”

  “I grew up speaking it half the time. Couple weeks, you’d think I was a native Roman. Listen, babe, this is gonna work, don’t worry about a thing.”

  She leaned over and kissed him on the ear. “I’m not worried, Marty, I’m safe in your hands.”

  56

  Stone, Dino, and Viv had a good dinner and waited for Dan Sparks to call back. “Listen,” Stone said, “I want to get a shower and a change of clothes.”

  “Hurry up,” Dino said. “And bring a weapon.”

  Stone went upstairs and let the hot shower run on his face, then he got into some comfortable clothes, holstered his lightweight Terry Tussey .45, and went downstairs. Dino was on the phone.

  “Okay,” Dino was saying, “at the convenience store in about an hour. This time, don’t bring police vehicles. If we get there first, let’s don’t scare them off.” He hung up. “Everybody ready?”

  They went outside and got into Dino’s car; his driver already had the engine running. “You get something to eat?” Dino asked the man.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. It’s going to be a late night. Let’s hit the West Side Highway.”

  • • •

  “Drive by the convenience store,” Hank said. “If there are police vehicles there, we’ll have to call it off and meet Tommy somewhere else.”

  “Okay,” Parese said. They drove past the store at forty miles an hour. “I don’t see anything that looks like cops,” he said.

  “Neither do I, but when we get to the lake, let’s drive around the shore road to the right and approach the house from the other direction.”

  “Sounds good.”

  They turned off on the road to the lake, and a couple of minutes later they came to the T junction and turned right.

  “So far, so good,” Parese said. “And we’ve still got an hour before Tommy is due.”

  “Look for clusters of vehicles,” she said. “Any kind of vehicles parked in driveways or side roads.”

  Parese did as he was told. “I don’t see anything,” he said.

  “Then let’s drive on around the lake,” Hank said. “And turn off your lights, there’s enough of a moon to see.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were approaching the cottage.

  “Pull into the drive and stop,” she said. “I want to walk down there first.”

  He pulled into the drive; they could see the house, and it was dark.

  “Never mind me walking,” Hank said, “just turn off the engine and coast down to the front of the house, then turn around and back up near the porch. I’d like to be pointed the other way if we have to move.”

  They got out of the van and stood in the dim moonlight, listening. Nothing but an owl somewhere. Parese unlocked the front door and turned on a light. “Looks okay,” he called back.

  “Let’s get the bags inside,” Hank yelled. Parese came outside, and they wheeled in the five suitcases and their own bags. They set three of the bags containing the money in the middle of the living room, and put two of them on the dining table.

  Parese went back to the van and came back with the counter-sorting machine, then he went back and brought in two grocery bags.

  “That’s not a week’s groceries,” she said.

  “I just said that for Barrington’s benefit,” Parese replied. “There’s enough for a snack tonight and breakfast tomorrow.”

  “You hungry?” she asked.

  “I’m too excited to eat. This is gonna happen, I can feel it.” He went back to the van and came back with the two shotguns and the Uzi. “They’re all loaded,” he said, putting them behind the front door.

  They put their own bags in the bedroom, and when they came out, they could hear the crunch of tires on gravel.

  “This is it,” Parese said. He pulled out his Glock and stood by the door, his back to the wall. A car door slammed.

  “Marty?” a man’s gruff voice called.

  “I’m here, Tommy. Come on in.”

  Hank stood where she could be seen. A man appeared on the porch, and Parese turned on the outside light. “Who’s with you?” he called.

  “Just the guy who drove me. He won’t move.”

  “Come on in, then.”

  Tommy walked into the living room and stopped. “I’m unarmed,” he said, opening his jacket and turning around. He also hoisted his trouser legs so Parese could see there was nothing strapped to his ankles.

  “You brought the four and a half?” Parese asked.

  “In the trunk of the car. Where’s yours?”

  “Right over here.” Parese led him to the dining table and unzipped the two suitcases.

  Tommy dug down into the bundles of bills and made sure it was all money. “Good,” he said, zipping up the bags and moving them to the floor. “Now let’s see the others.”

  The two men hoisted the other three bags onto the table, and Tommy inspected them, then set them on the floor. “Funny how much money weighs,” he said.

  “It’s just paper,” Parese replied. “You satisfied, or you want to run it all through the machine again?” He handed Tommy some folded sheets of paper. “Here’s the count as it went through the machine.”

  Tommy took the paper and put it in his pocket. “I’m okay,” he said. “Let’s go get my bags.”

  “The lady will go with you,” Parese said. “I’ll wait here.” He nodded at Hank. “Don’t worry, babe, you’ll be okay with Tommy.”

  Hank followed the man out to his car and around to the trunk. He opened it with a key and hoisted a bag onto the ground. “Take it in,” he said. “I’ll bring the other one.”

  The two of them wheeled the bags into the house and to the dining room table. Parese put them on the table and opened them. They were filled with banded stacks of hundreds. He went through random stacks to be sure there was no newspaper in them.

  “You want to put them through the machine?” Tommy asked.

  “I’m good. You delivered, Tommy, and I appreciate it.”

  “I appreciate the action,” Tommy replied.

  The two men hugged, and Parese stood in the doorway and watched him walk back to the car. The driver started it, turned around, and drove up the drive. They could see his taillights through the woods as he drove away.

  Parese turned and took Hank in his arms. “It’s done, babe.”

  “Let’s get those two bags into the van, in case we need to make a hasty departure,” she said. They each took a bag
and wheeled it outside, and Parese hoisted the bags into the van and closed the door. “Now,” he said, “I want to fuck you in the worst way.”

  “And I want to fuck you, too, Marty,” she said.

  57

  Stone sat in the backseat with Viv. He didn’t know why he was so tired; after all, he’d spent the day on the sofa in his office. He wished he’d gotten more sleep.

  “You’re awful quiet, Stone,” Dino said when they were on the Sawmill.

  “I’m just thinking, what if we’re wrong about the lake cottage?”

  “Then we’re wrong—it’ll cost you five million dollars, but the world won’t end. I bet your insurance company will cover you. I mean, it’s a straight-up armed robbery.”

  “I don’t know what the limits are on my policy.”

  “Dino,” Viv said, “suppose Stone is right about being wrong. What’s our backup plan?”

  “Gee, I don’t know, Viv. Stone, you got a backup plan?”

  “I’m thinking,” Stone said.

  “Think faster, we’re half an hour out.”

  “I’m thinking as fast as I can.”

  “Oh, well, that’s all right, then.”

  “You could think of something, you know, Dino.”

  Dino got quiet.

  • • •

  They got to the convenience store at New Fairfield more or less on time. There were no police vehicles.

  “I’ll bet Dan is inside,” Dino said.

  They all got out and walked into the store. It was empty of customers. Dino walked over to the lone cashier. “Is Colonel Sparks of the State Police here?”

  “Who wants to know?” the man asked.

  Dino showed him his badge.

  The man nodded toward the rear of the store. “Stockroom.”

  They walked the length of the place and pushed open a swinging door. Sparks and seven or eight men were sitting around on crates and folding chairs, looking bored.

  “Hey, Dino,” Sparks said. “You remember my team.”

  “Hi, guys,” Dino said. “You remember Stone Barrington. This is my wife, Viv. She’s a retired NYPD detective.”

  Viv’s credentials established, everybody nodded.

  “When do you want to go in, Dino?”

  “Well, I don’t want to get there first,” Dino said. “Let’s see, they left Stone’s house around seven, and it’s an hour-and-a-half drive up here, so that would be eight-thirty. It’s eleven now. If they’ve made the swap, they’ll probably spend the night, and they’re still there. If they haven’t made it, then they’re staying up late. Let’s go now.”

  Sparks stood up. “Okay, everybody, saddle up. Put your gear on in the cars, not in the parking lot. We don’t want to attract attention. We’ll do this like last time—we’ll leave the cars after a right turn at the lake road, out of sight of any approaching vehicles, then we’ll walk down the road and take to the woods before we get to the cabin.”

  Everybody got into the cars. They drove to the entry road and made the turn to the right, without headlights or incident. As quietly as possible, they left the vehicles around the first corner and began to walk up the road. Stone brought up the rear with Viv.

  Stone and Viv waited in the road until the SWAT team had filtered into the woods, then Dan Sparks came back to get them. They followed him down the road. There was a light on in the living room.

  “No van,” Stone said.

  “No vehicle of any kind,” Sparks replied.

  They followed him up onto the porch and into the living room. Nothing, nobody, except the counter-sorting machine on the floor next to the dining table, and two shotguns and an Uzi behind the front door. Stone went into the bedroom and turned on a light; there was a leather duffel on the bed. He unzipped it and pulled out a few things. “A man’s clothes,” he said to Sparks.

  “I don’t see another bag,” Sparks said.

  “And no five bags of tens and twenties,” Stone pointed out.

  “There’s nothing in the place that says a woman was here,” Dino said. “There are two bags of groceries on the kitchen counter, untouched.”

  “They’ve been here,” Sparks said.

  “They’ve been here and gone,” Stone replied.

  “At least, one of them did,” Sparks said. He walked back into the living room. “Everybody got a flashlight?” he asked.

  Everybody held up flashlights. “I want a search of the woods,” he said. “Work your way out from the house. Remember what we found the last time we searched the woods.”

  • • •

  Ten minutes later, Sparks came back into the house and beckoned to Stone, Dino, and Viv, who were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee from the grocery bags. He led them outside and a short distance into the woods.

  “Is that your Parese guy?” Sparks asked, playing his powerful little flashlight on a figure on the ground. “He’s got an empty holster on his belt, and we found a single nine-millimeter shell casing on the ground in front of the house.”

  “That’s Marty Parese,” Stone said. “And that’s a knife sticking out of his chest.”

  “You’re very observant,” Sparks said drily. “Now, where’s Henrietta Cromwell?

  “In the wind,” Dino said.

  58

  The group sat around the living room of the lake cottage. It was after one AM, and the medical examiner’s wagon had already left with Parese’s body. They were all having a drink from the cabin’s booze supply.

  “So,” Dino said, “where are we?”

  “I like Stone’s idea about the chartered airplane,” Dan Sparks said. “My people are checking every airport in the western half of the state, as far as and including Hartford’s airports. Danbury and Oxford are the closest ones. Danbury closes at dusk, and Oxford is quiet. I’ve got men on the runway at each, should anybody try to land, and the New York boys are covering White Plains, Newburgh, and Albany.”

  “Hank could be headed for Mexico,” Stone said. “We don’t know anything about the vehicle, except that it’s a van—no make, year, or color.”

  “Yeah,” Sparks said, “and I’m not issuing a nationwide APB for a van. I don’t need that kind of trouble. We are checking every nearby motel, hotel, and B&B for a woman in a van, though.”

  Dino spoke up. “And I’ve got people watching her apartment building in the city.” He sighed. “I guess we ought to head back soon, late as it is.”

  “Listen, you guys shouldn’t be driving back to the city this late,” Sparks said. “Why don’t you sleep here and get an early start? Our crime scene is outside, and we’ve already shut it down. Nobody’s going to disturb you.”

  “Suits me,” Viv said, and nobody argued with her.

  “I want another drink,” Stone said, getting up and heading for the kitchen. “Can I bring anybody anything?”

  “The bottle,” Dino said, “and some ice.”

  Stone brought back the makings and set them on the dining table, then poured for everybody.

  “Not for me,” Sparks said. “I’m headed home.” He shook everybody’s hand, then left.

  “Where would you go with five million dollars in cash?” Viv asked. “I mean, the airplane makes the most sense. But Dan has a lid on that. Where else?”

  “That’s the five-million-buck question,” Dino said, “and I’m too tired to think. I put in a twelve-hour day before we got here.”

  “Yeah,” Stone said. “And you’d be surprised how exhausting it is to be bound hand and foot all day. I’m really beat.”

  “No more great ideas?” Dino asked.

  “None. Zip. Nada.”

  They finished their drinks, then Dino and Viv took the double-bedded room, and Stone and Dino’s driver took the twin-bedded one. Stone didn’t bother looking for sheets; he found a blanket and slept in his clothes. Everybody was down and out in fifteen minutes.

  • • •

  Stone woke up to sunlight streaming through a window onto his bed. He struggled out
of bed, went into the bathroom and splashed some water on his face, then he put on his shoes and walked outside.

  It was a beautiful spot, he thought. The sun sparkled on the little lake, and a light breeze rustled the trees around the house. It didn’t look like the sort of place where two men had died over the past few days. He went back into the house and, using the groceries from the two bags, started breakfast. The smell of bacon got everybody up, and soon they were having scrambled eggs. They had just finished when Dino’s phone rang.

  “Bacchetti,” he said. He listened for a minute, then turned toward Stone. “You know where Oxford Airport is?”

  “Yes,” Stone replied. “Don’t you remember? You and I attended a shoot-out there a few years back. It’s a twenty-minute or half-hour drive.”

  “Oh, yeah. Dan, we’ll be there in half an hour.” Dino hung up. “Let’s get going.”

  “What’s happening there?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  Dino’s driver brought the car to the house and they piled in.

  “I hope they caught her,” Stone said.

  “You hope they caught your five million bucks,” Dino said.

  “That, too.”

  The drive took less than half an hour. “Go to the main terminal,” Stone said. They drove down the road for half a mile, and some buildings hove into view at the top of a hill.

  “That’s it,” Stone said.

  There were two police vehicles in the parking lot below the terminal building, and one van, a black one. They pulled into the lot and got out.

  Sparks was standing next to the van, looking in through the driver’s window. He turned as they approached. “Well,” he said, “we’ve got your woman.” He stepped back so they could look inside.

  Hank Cromwell was lying across the bench front seat, her head resting on her crooked arm. She looked asleep, but the seat was soaked with drying blood that had dripped onto the passenger-side floor, as well. Nobody said anything.

  The medical examiner’s van pulled into the lot, and everybody stood back to let them pass.

  “A jet landed at eight-thirty this morning,” Sparks said. “The pilots refueled and waited another half an hour, made some phone calls, then took off again. We’ve got the tail number and are checking it out. After the jet had gone, somebody parked down here, saw the body, and called us.”