Shoot First (A Stone Barrington Novel)

by Stuart Woods

  “Yes. Now I need Joan to e-mail us the correct paperwork, but I don’t want to wait until we receive it to start on this. May I proceed?”

  “You may proceed.”

  Stone called Joan and requested the e-mailing of an exclusive client retainer document, then he called Bill Eggers, the managing partner of Woodman & Weld.

  “Good morning, Stone,” Eggers said.

  “Good afternoon, Bill—at least it is in England.”

  “I see. What are you up to over there?”

  “Well, I’ve just signed a new client—Harmony Software of Silicon Valley fame, and its CEO, Meg Harmon.”

  “It would be the firm’s great pleasure to represent the company and Ms. Harmon. Has she signed a retainer agreement?”

  “It’s being e-mailed to me as we speak.”

  “Good. Well, I have a meeting to go to.”

  “Not yet,” Stone said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because our new client’s previous attorneys have fucked up royally, and unless we can sort this out in a hurry, the world may fall on both our new client and, by extension, us.”

  “Explain, please.”

  Stone explained.

  “So, if this Owaki fellow can get his hands on the designs, he could file a patent application?”

  “I am very much afraid that is correct.”

  “What is the name of the managing partner of her previous law firm?”

  Stone put his hand over the phone. “Who are your San Francisco attorneys, and who is the top man there?”

  “Coward, McMillan & Crane, and John Coward is the senior partner and my attorney.”

  Stone conveyed that information to Bill Eggers, then there was a knock on the door, and Major Bugg’s assistant entered the room with a thick stack of papers.

  “This was just received from your office, Mr. Barrington,” she said, “and we printed it out for you.”

  “Hang on a minute, Bill,” Stone said, and put the phone down. “Meg,” he said, handing her the pages, “this is our standard agreement for new clients. Please read it, then sign the last page.”

  Meg skipped to the last page, signed it, and handed it to Stone.

  “Bill,” Stone said, “I have Ms. Harmon’s signed representation agreement in my hand. I’ll fax it to you.” He handed it back to the woman and instructed her to fax it to Eggers.

  “Good. Now I will call John Coward, whom I know, break the news to him, and make unreasonable demands about locating the notice of receipt from the patent office. I will also send two attorneys from our San Francisco office to their offices, to supervise the inquiry into what went wrong. Then I’ll get back to you.”

  “Thank you, Bill.” Stone hung up. “All right, Meg, you are no longer a client of Coward, McMillan & Crane, you are now represented by Woodman & Weld, under my direction.”

  “I feel better already,” Meg replied.

  “Not so fast. Don’t feel better until we have fixed this problem. My managing partner, Bill Eggers, is sending two attorneys from our San Francisco office to your former law firm to find out what the hell happened. Then they will report to Bill, and he will advise us on how to proceed.”

  “All right,” Meg said. “Now may I join you for a nap?”

  “Of course,” Stone replied, then the telephone buzzed. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Barrington,” Carl Atkins, the security man, said, “there is a Mr. Selwin Ozowi—oh, excuse me, sir—a Mr. Selwyn Owaki here to see you. He does not have an appointment.”

  “Is he armed or accompanied by anyone?”

  “No, sir, neither.”

  “Please ask the butler to show him into the library, give him a drink, and tell him you will try to locate me.”

  “Oh, he wishes to see Ms. Harmon, as well.”

  “Tell him you will look for us both.” Stone hung up.

  “What’s going on?” Meg asked.

  Stone got out of bed. “Go and change into your riding clothes—tweeds, boots, et cetera. We are going to receive a visitor in the library, and we should look as though we have just come in from riding. If you have a perfume with a scent resembling horse sweat, spray a little of that on, too.”

  “And who are we receiving?”

  “Selwyn Owaki. You have twenty minutes.”

  Meg ran for her dressing room and Stone for his.

  52

  It had been Stone’s experience that important people who have been kept waiting become angry and say things they might otherwise not say, so he kept Owaki waiting for nearly half an hour before sauntering into the library with Meg, chatting about their ride.

  Stone tried to look surprised to see the man. “Oh, are you the gentleman who requested to see me? Without an appointment?”

  Owaki rose and tried to look pleasant. “My name is Selwyn Owaki. I am a guest at your hotel next door.” He stuck out a hand, which Stone contrived not to notice.

  “Please sit down, Mr. Ozaku, and tell me how I may help you.”

  “It’s Owaki,” the man replied, spelling it for him.

  “Ah, yes, you’re Japanese, are you?”

  “I am not, sir. I am of mixed extraction.”

  “Something of a mutt, eh?”

  A touch of pink appeared on Owaki’s cheeks. “I have come to see you and Ms. Harmon on a business matter.”

  “Oh, you know Ms. Harmon?” Stone asked.

  “Not until now.”

  “Meg, this is Mr. Owazu.”

  “It’s Owaki. How do you do, Ms. Harmon?”

  “I do very well, thank you,” Meg replied.

  “I should tell you, Mr. Owachi,” Stone said, “that neither Ms. Harmon nor I are accustomed to doing business outside our offices, which are located on another continent.”

  “I am aware of that,” Owaki said, “and I apologize for the inconvenience.”

  “Actually, it is less of an inconvenience than an intrusion. Do you normally call on those to whom you have not been introduced and with whom you do not have an appointment, to discuss business?”

  “I am sorry,” Owaki said, “but since the matter is one favorable to Ms. Harmon and rather time sensitive, I took a chance.”

  “And what did you hope to achieve by taking this chance?” Stone asked.

  “I wish to buy something from Ms. Harmon, and if she is not willing to sell, then, perhaps sell her something.”

  “Well, what are you buying and selling, Mr. Onako? Encyclopedias? Pots and pans? Bibles, perhaps?”

  Meg spoke up. “I haven’t the faintest idea what he’s talking about, Stone, do you?”

  “Not a clue,” Stone replied. “Mr. Tanaka, please enlighten us.”

  Owaki sighed. “I wish to buy Harmony Software,” he said, “and I am prepared to pay a rich price.”

  “Perhaps you are unaware that a substantial minority of the shares of Harmony Software have already been purchased by the Steele Group, and they are not inclined to sell.”

  “But you have not heard my offer.”

  “That is so, but I am a member of the board of the Steele Group, and their attorney, and if you wish, I will convey your offer to its chairman, Mr. Steele.”

  “I do not wish to buy the Steele Group’s shares,” Owaki said. “I wish to buy Ms. Harmon’s fifty-one percent.”

  “Did you have a figure in mind?” Stone asked.

  Meg raised a hand. “Stone, will you please convey to this gentleman that my shares in Harmony Software are not for sale to him?”

  “Mr. Oahu,” Stone said, “Ms. Harmon’s shares are not for sale—to you.”

  “Do you mean, specifically, not for sale, or not for sale to me?” Owaki asked.

  “Not for sale to you,” Meg replied.

  “May I ask why not?” Owaki said.

 
“Because . . .”

  Stone raised a hand. “Let me take this one, please, Meg.”

  “Of course, Stone.”

  “Ms. Harmon will not sell her shares to you, Mr. Opatu, because you are a merchant of death, a murderer, and, generally speaking, devoid of any moral character.”

  Owaki was bright red now. “I do not understand,” he said.

  “I thought I was perfectly clear, Mr. Oleo. Now, you said you have something to sell?”

  Owaki shifted in his seat and tried to recover his good humor. “I own, just a few miles from this house, twenty-five acres of land and on it, a factory building of some thirty thousand square feet, well equipped for the manufacturing of automobiles and with a highly trained staff of some three hundred people.”

  “Very well, Mr. Whatsyourname,” Meg said, “I will offer you one hundred thousand pounds—no, make that dollars—for your land and factory.” She smiled. “Take it or leave it.”

  Owaki’s jaw dropped. “What?”

  “Would you like me to repeat my offer?” Meg asked.

  “Thank you, no. I had expected to have a business discussion with you people, and—”

  “And you have done so,” Stone replied. “So have we, and we are done now.” He pressed a button on the table beside him.

  Owaki stood up, and he was seething. “You are about to learn that it is unwise to deal with me in such a manner.”

  “Oh, we learned that several days ago,” Stone said. “It was explained to me in great detail by your Mr. Beria.”

  There was a knock on the door, and the butler entered. “Mr. Olakoo has just had a telephone message,” he said. “The county fire inspectors are at his factory and wish to speak with him there at once.”

  “Mr. Ozanna was just leaving,” Stone said. “Please show him the door, and tell the security people to shoot him if he tarries.”

  Owaki stalked from the room and would have slammed the door behind him if the butler had not already closed it softly.

  Stone and Meg burst into laughter.

  “Oh, that was wonderful,” Meg said, wiping tears away.

  “I think he got the message,” Stone replied, “and now he will send us a message, and in so doing, we can hope he makes a mistake. And we will do our best to be ready for him.”

  53

  Stone walked out his front door in time to watch a black Mercedes-Maybach depart his house in a spray of gravel. Carl Atkins, the security man, was watching, too.

  “I guess your idea was to have him go away mad,” he said.

  “Exactly, Carl, and now I think we must prepare for him to respond.”

  “From what I’ve heard of him in the security business, he loves revenge among all other things.”

  “Have you been in touch with the local constabulary?” Stone asked.

  “Just once, when we arrived. That inspector you know is now the chief constable, and he wants to be helpful, if he can.”

  “Then use him and his people to the hilt,” Stone said, “and I will find a way to thank him later.”

  “Certainly, sir, and may I have your permission to request another six men to be sent down from London?”

  “If you think we need them. And I think it would be a good idea to speak to the manager of our hotel and see what you can learn from him and his staff about Owaki’s intentions.”

  “His car didn’t head in that direction,” Atkins said. “I think he may be visiting his car factory.”

  “I’m sure of it,” Stone said. His cell phone rang, and he answered. “Hello?”

  “Good afternoon, my dear,” Felicity said. “I wanted to thank you for a delightful evening, though I was a little worse for the wear this morning.”

  “A condition I share,” Stone replied. “I’ve just had a visit from Selwyn Owaki, who came to make a business proposal and left very, very unhappy, after a call to him requesting his attention to some county fire officials at his factory.”

  “I should think he might hear from more than one county department before the day is out,” she said. “And tomorrow, with any luck at all, he may be summoned to the home secretary’s office to explain why he should not be expelled from the country because of bad business practices and his indifference to the safety of his staff.”

  “You are a perfect angel,” Stone said.

  “We can discuss that on another occasion,” Felicity said, “but in the meantime, I think you should prepare yourself for a further visit from Mr. Owaki or his associates.”

  “I have already taken steps,” Stone said, “which reminds me, I must make a call to the hotel manager regarding his most infamous guest.”

  “Go, then. See you soon.”

  “Yes, indeed.” Stone called the hotel and asked to speak to the manager.

  “Yes, Mr. Barrington?” the man said.

  “I hope business is good,” Stone said.

  “It is very good, sir. We are maintaining an occupancy rate in the region of ninety-five percent.”

  “I’m delighted to hear it. However, I’m calling to ask you to free up some space—that occupied by a Mr. Owaki and, perhaps, some of his associates.”

  “Ah, yes, a large suite and two smaller rooms. You would like them all to vacate?”

  “I would.”

  “How soon?”

  “With immediate effect.”

  “As you wish, sir. What reason shall I give Mr. Owaki?”

  “Tell him that your headquarters have instructed you to evict him, and that he and his associates will oblige the management by leaving quietly.”

  “Certainly, sir. Would you like us to pack his luggage?”

  “What a good idea! Neatly, of course, then set it on the front steps for collection on his return. How much is his bill?”

  “They arrived only yesterday, sir, so it’s right at three thousand five hundred pounds, so far.”

  “Hand him his bill, marked ‘Paid,’ and send a copy to my New York Office, which will reimburse you.”

  “As you wish, Mr. Barrington. I’ll see to it immediately.”

  “Oh,” Stone said, “if you should find any weapons when you are packing his things, retain them and turn them over to the chief of the local constabulary, and be sure to tell Mr. Owaki or his representative that you have done so.”

  “It will be done, sir. Is there anything else? Anything at all?”

  “Thank you, that will do it,” Stone said, “and I will favorably mention your cooperation to the main office at the first opportunity.”

  “How very kind of you, sir.”

  “Goodbye.” Stone hung up.

  Carl Atkins, who had overheard the conversation, was laughing quietly. “Good idea to disarm them, Mr. Barrington.”

  “We must try and keep the peace, Carl. By the way, I’m reliably informed that Mr. Owaki and his party will be told to leave the country tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know how you arranged that, sir, but I admire your skills and your connections.”

  Stone turned to the butler, who had been present the whole time. “Would you please ask the head groom to saddle two of the horses for Ms. Harmon and me, and to bring them around front?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And would you let Ms. Harmon know that we are going riding?”

  “Immediately, sir.”

  “Anything else I can do for you, Mr. Barrington?” Atkins asked.

  “Yes, you can loan me a compact firearm and a holster,” Stone said.

  “Right away, sir.” Atkins left at a trot for the cottage where his crew were staying.

  Stone’s phone rang. “Hello?”

  “It’s Dino. Are you still alive?”

  “Perfectly so,” Stone replied.

  “I mean, I heard that Owaki is in your neighborhood.”

  “M
eg and I met with him only a few minutes ago, and, with the able assistance of Dame Felicity, we have rattled his cage sufficiently for him to be out of the country tomorrow.”

  “Which means he’ll be coming back into my jurisdiction,” Dino said. “Thanks a lot.”

  “I expect so. Can you think of any way to make his arrival memorable?”

  “I expect so. I’ll alert U.S. Customs at Teterboro, which is where he lands his Gulfstream. Might they be carrying any weapons?”

  “Perhaps, but I have managed to put some of them beyond his reach. Perhaps a strip search by customs might turn up anything he has left.”

  “I’ll suggest a full cavity search, too,” Dino said. “Those customs guys love that. When are you coming back?”

  “I don’t know—a day or two, I guess. Meg has to close on her new apartment.”

  “I spoke to the head of the committee,” Dino said. “She’s a shoo-in.”

  “I’ll tell her, she’ll like that.” They said goodbye and hung up.

  54

  As Meg left the house, a stableman walked around the corner, leading two beautifully groomed horses.

  “Yours is the mare, mine the gelding,” Stone said.

  “I hope I can tell which is which,” she said, lifting a leg so that the groom could hoist her into the saddle.

  Stone managed on his own. “We’ll walk them for a couple of hundred yards, to let them loosen up,” he said, and they did so. At the end of that Stone’s gelding was champing at the bit, and a tap of the heel into his flank achieved a comfortable gallop. Meg pulled up alongside him. “Wall coming up,” Stone said. “Are you up for that?”

  “Sure I am,” she said.

  They took the stone wall that divided Windward Hall from the hotel’s estate and galloped across the acreage of its front lawn.

  “Magnificent house,” Meg said. “You should have bought that one.”

  “I wasn’t looking for a stately home,” Stone said. “And there are at least sixty staff there, not counting the hotel keepers.” He noted that two bellmen were piling up luggage at the bottom of the front steps. “Mr. Owaki appears to be checking out,” he said, as the black Maybach pulled up to the front of the house.