by Stuart Woods
“What call?”
“The imaginary call. If they want to know why the caller never called them, you don’t know. All you did was give him the message.”
“Okay. I can do that in a few minutes.”
Young gave him the cell phone number. “Can I speak to the lieutenant again?”
“This is Jake.”
“Lieutenant, thanks so much for your help.”
“What help?”
Chapter 51
JAKE POTTER POURED himself a cup of the dockmaster’s coffee and gazed out the window at the yachts in their slips. This state cop, Young, from Maine had something real good going, he reflected. Multiple murders, serial killer, mucho publicity in the Boston papers and TV. Jake didn’t like state cops; they always wanted to come in and take over a local investigation. They’d had a real good murder on Nantucket the previous summer, and the Massachusetts state cops were all over it like flies before Jake and his colleagues had really had a chance to break it.
He turned to the dockmaster. “Tell you what, Charlie,” he said, setting down his coffee cup and starting to unbutton his shirt. “I’ll go down there and check out Hotshot.”
“Whatever,” Charlie said, hardly looking up from his computer.
Jake took off his uniform shirt and his cap and hung them on a coat rack beside the door of the office. Now he was just a guy in a white T-shirt and khaki pants. He pulled the tail of his T-shirt out and pulled it down over his gunbelt, then he left the office and walked down the ramp to the docks, moving slowly, as was his wont. He strolled down to dock 3 and turned right. Long lines of yachts stretched out for many yards on both sides of the walkway.
Jake counted out the berths as he walked, not actually using his fingers, but moving his lips as he read the numbers. He came to berth 14. Two young men were lounging in the cockpit, drinking beer. Neither fit the description of the suspects. Jake walked down the catwalk alongside the yacht and stood next to the cockpit, maybe eight feet from where the two boys sat. They glanced at him, then went back to their conversation, dismissing any importance he might have.
They think I’m just another tourist, Jake thought with satisfaction. “Ahoy, there,” he said.
One of the boys looked up at him. “Ahoy?” He chuckled. “What can we do for you, Popeye?”
“I’m looking for two twins,” he consulted his notebook, “named Edwin and Elmer Stone?”
“Eben and Enos,” the boy corrected.
“Yeah, them. Are they aboard?”
The boy waved a hand. “You see them?”
“Are they downstairs?”
“Downstairs?”
“Down there,” Jake said, pointing at the cabin. He hated these Boston pups, the arrogant little sons of bitches.
“There’s just us,” the boy said.
“Where can I find, uh…”
“Eben and Enos?”
“Yeah.”
“They went ashore a few minutes ago.”
“Where ashore?”
“They had some stuff to buy, beer and stuff.”
“When are they coming back?”
“Who knows? We don’t sail until tomorrow.”
“They got a phone call up at the dockmaster’s office.”
The boy shrugged. “What can I tell you?”
“They got a cell phone number I can send the call to?”
“Yeah.” The boy made a little face to show he was trying to remember, then he spat out a number. “Try them on that.”
“Got it,” Jake said, scribbling the number in his notebook. “Thanks, guys.” He turned and walked back up the dock.
THE TWO BOYS WAITED until he was twenty feet away before they burst out laughing. One of them took a cell phone from his pocket and tapped in a number.
“Hello?”
“Which one is this?”
“Enos.”
“A cop was just at the boat,” he said. “Like you predicted. Funny guy; he actually said, ”Ahoy.“”
“Are you sure he was a cop? Was he in uniform?”
“He was wearing a white undershirt and khakis, and shiny black shoes and a web belt with a shiny brass buckle, and he had a white sidewall haircut, and there was a big bulge on his belt. Who else would he be?”
“What did he say?”
“He wanted you and Eben, and I told him you went ashore for beer. He said you had a call at the dockmaster’s office, and I gave him your cell number.”
“Okay.”
“Everything all right?”
“Yeah, we had a great night with the girls, even if they are underage. Thanks for covering for us; we don’t want to deal with their old man.”
“Do it once for me.”
“You bet.”
BACK AT THE DOCKMASTER’S office, Jake got into his shirt and cap before calling Sergeant Young.
“This is Young.”
“Hey, Jake Potter, in Nantucket.”
“Yes, Jake. What did you find out?”
“I went down to the boat; your boys are here,” Potter replied. “I got their cell phone number for you.” He read it out.
“Yeah, I’ve already got that.”
“You can reach them on that number,” Jake said. “Good luck on your case, and don’t forget who helped you.”
“Thanks, Jake.” Young hung up.
Jake strolled back to his car, got in and began driving slowly up the street, looking for a pair of identical giants carrying beer. He was going to keep an eye on these two, and if they did anything funny, he was going to be all over them.
Sergeant Tom Young put his cell phone back into his shirt pocket. “That was the cop from Nantucket,” he said to Stone.
“They checked out the yacht?”
“Yes. The twins were aboard.”
“So much for that theory,” Stone said.
Chapter 52
STONE WENT INTO Dick’s little office, where Lance was working on the computer. “The Nantucket police have verified that the Stone twins are there, on the yacht.”
Lance sighed. “I had hopes for that theory,” he said. He span around in his chair. “Stone, I don’t want to talk about this in front of Ham, but I think you know that the chances of finding Holly alive are down to slim and none.”
“I can’t think about that, Lance; I just have to keep trying to figure this thing out.”
“I know you feel responsible, but you’re not,” Lance said. “You told her to go armed.”
“She did; her gun is not upstairs, and neither is the holster.”
“Then she was incapacitated at the outset, but that’s not your fault, either.”
“I wish I could feel that way about it.”
Dino called out from the study, “Hey, Stone, you and Lance come in here a minute, will you?”
Stone and Lance walked into the study to find Dino and Sergeant Young hunched over the coffee table, looking at Lance’s thermal images and the sergeant’s map of the island. “What’s up?” Stone asked.
Dino tapped the thermal image with his forefinger. “I’m just looking at this house,” he said.
“What about it?”
“This is the image from last night. It shows four people, presumably asleep, in the house, at around three-thirty a.m., two people in each of two bedrooms.”
“So?”
“So, according to Tom’s map, it’s Caleb Stone’s house.”
“And there were four people present last night?”
“Look for yourself. My question is, if the twins are in Nantucket, who are the other two people besides Caleb and his wife?”
“I don’t know. Guests maybe?”
“The twins can’t be in two places at once, Dino,” Lance said, “and we have a sighting of them by a police officer on the yacht less than an hour ago.”
“Tom,” Dino said, “do you personally know this Nantucket cop?”
“Never met him,” Young said. “I just phoned his office this morning, and they put me in touch with him.�
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“How did he strike you on the phone—sharp?”
“Not really. He kept getting things mixed up: the twins’ names, the name of the yacht.”
“So, maybe he’s mixed up about the twins being on the yacht.”
Young produced his cell phone and called Potter’s number.
“Yeah?”
“Lieutenant, it’s Tom Young from the Maine State Police again.”
“Yeah?”
“When you went down to the boat this morning, did you actually see the twins?”
“Ah, no, but the two guys on board said they had just gone for beer. I’m looking for them now.”
“So, you didn’t sight the twins?”
“Not yet.”
“Thanks, Lieutenant.”
“You think the two guys lied to me?”
“It’s a strong possibility. If you find them, please call me immediately. Goodbye.” Young hung up. “He didn’t see them.”
“I’d like to visit Caleb’s house,” Stone said.
“Me, too,” Young replied.
Ham stood up. “I’m coming, too.”
“I’d rather you didn’t, Mr. Barker,” Young said. “You just stay here, and let me do my job. You, too, Stone.”
“As you wish, Sergeant,” Stone replied.
“I’ll call you after I’ve talked to Caleb—and his sons, if they’re there.”
“Be careful,” Stone said.
Young left the house.
“You shouldn’t get too excited about this, Ham,” Stone said.
“No?” Ham replied. “If these twins are here, why are they establishing an alibi for themselves in Nantucket?”
“I don’t know, but they may actually be in Nantucket, and we still don’t have anything to connect them with Holly.”
The doorbell rang, and Stone went to answer it. Ed Rawls stood on the doorstep.
“Come on in, Ed.”
“Thanks. Anything new?”
“I’m not sure. We’ve just learned that Caleb Stone’s twin sons have gone to some lengths to make the police believe that they’re in Nantucket, but we’ve learned that they’re not.”
“We haven’t learned that yet, Stone,” Lance pointed out. “All we know is that the Nantucket cop looking for them hasn’t seen them yet.”
“And,” Dino pointed out, “we’ve got these thermal scans that show four people sleeping in Caleb’s house last night.”
“So, what if they are here?” Rawls asked. “Have you got anything to connect them to any of the murders?”
“Not really,” Stone said, “but I find it very suspicious that they seem to be trying to create a false alibi.”
“I see your point,” Rawls said.
“Sergeant Young has just gone over to Caleb’s house to see if they’re there,” Stone said. “I’ll be interested to hear what he finds out.”
SERGEANT TOM YOUNG pulled up to the Stone house, a rambling shingled house sagging with age in places. He walked up onto the front porch and rang the bell.
After a long wait the door opened. “Yes?”
“Mr. Caleb Stone?”
“Yes?”
“I’m Sergeant Young of the Maine State Police. We spoke on the phone yesterday. I’d like to speak to your sons, Eben and Enos, please.”
“I gave you their cell phone number yesterday, Sergeant,” Caleb replied. “It hasn’t changed.”
“Yes sir, and I spoke to one of them, but I haven’t bearable to confirm their whereabouts.”
“Well, I’m sorry about that, Sergeant, but I don’t see how I can help you. The boys are not here.”
“Sir, we have information that four people slept in your house last night. I assume that two of them were your wife and yourself. Who were the other two?”
“We, ah, had houseguests. They left this morning.”
“Did they take the ferry?”
“No, they came and left by boat; they’re cruising the coast and just stopped in for the night.”
“May I ask their names?”
“Bill and Julie Robertson.”
“And the name of their boat?”
“I don’t really know the boat’s name,” Caleb replied. “It’s a sailing boat, pretty good size, but I don’t know its name.”
“How can I contact the Robertsons?”
“Why do you want to contact them?”
“I need to verify their presence here last night.”
“Well, I suppose you’ll have to wait until they return to Boston in the fall. They’re cruising all summer.”
“Mr. Stone, would you mind if I had a look around your house?”
“What for?”
“I’d like to see for myself if your sons are here.”
“All right. Go ahead,” Caleb said, standing aside and holding the door open.
Sergeant Young stepped inside the house, and he heard the door close firmly behind him.
Chapter 53
STONE FINISHED HIS LUNCH and pushed back from the table. “I’m going to look for Sergeant Young,” he said.
“Take it easy, Stone,” Lance said. “He’s only been gone for an hour, and we know where he went. Relax and have some dessert.”
Stone tried to relax. “Ginny, how are you coming with Esme’s diary?”
“Slowly,” she replied. “I can go faster, if you don’t care if I destroy it.”
“Please do it as you see fit, Ginny.”
“It’s just that it’s all these thin sheets, and they’ve been mashed together by water and the pressure of the cover. If I use the heat from the hair dryer too much, they dry too fast and crumble.”
Lance spoke up. “Ginny, if it’s too difficult, I can send it back to Langley and let the experts have a go at it.”
“We don’t have time for that,” Stone said.
“You mean Holly doesn’t have time for that,” Ham said. It was the first time he had spoken during lunch.
“I can do it, Lance,” Ginny said, “but it has to be done slowly, and I don’t think your people at Langley could do it any faster. I know it would be nice to do this in a lab, to better preserve the diary as evidence, but we have a different priority here, and that’s to get Holly back as quickly as possible.”
Stone stood up. “I’m going to go call Tom Young and see if he’s all right.” He left the room.
Ham watched him go. “I think Stone is almost as tightly wound as I am.”
Stone came back. “I got his voice mail. I’m going to wait another half an hour, and then I’m going over to Caleb’s house.” He sat down and tried to eat the apple pie in front of him.
“There are dead spots on this island,” Lance said. “Maybe Tom is in one of those.”
The doorbell rang, and Stone got up and went to the front door. A moment later he came back into the kitchen with Sergeant Young.
“What happened over there?” Lance asked.
“Let’s take a look at those thermal images,” Young said.
Stone went to get them and spread them on the kitchen table.
“I searched the whole house,” Young said. “Caleb didn’t give me a hard time; he seemed to be happy for me to look around.” He tapped a finger on two of the sleeping figures. “This is the twins’ room,” he said, “and it would appear that they’re sleeping there. However, there’s a guest room one floor up, directly over the twins’ room, and Caleb says they had people sleeping there last night.”
“Who?” Stone asked.
“A couple named Bill and Julie Robertson from Boston. I checked, and there’s a phone listing there, and I got an answering machine. Caleb says they’re spending the whole summer cruising the coast in their sailboat and that they came in by sea yesterday and left the same way early this morning. He didn’t have the boat’s name or description, so I can’t ask the coast guard to look for it. I’ve got somebody checking the Massachusetts yacht registry for the information we need to launch a search.”