by Stuart Woods
“I see.”
“I’d like you and Holly to go to his house, get inside and call me back.”
“I don’t think we can do that for a couple of hours without causing suspicion. Remember, we’re vacationers here; we can’t just make an excuse and walk away from a dinner party.”
“All right, when you’re rid of Irene and her friend, go there. Got a pencil?”
Stone took out a jotting pad and his pen. “Shoot.” He wrote down the address and the burglar alarm code. “Got it.”
“There’s a note in Pepper’s file: a key is taped to the underside of the mailbox. When you leave, reset the alarm with the same code and replace the key, then have Holly call me at home on the satphone.” He gave Stone the number.
“All right, we’ll be in touch.”
“Don’t take Dino and Genevieve with you; tell them that if you’re not back at the inn in two hours, to call me.”
“Thanks, Lance, Ginny will call you later.” Stone closed his phone and went back to the table. “Sorry about that; my secretary is working late and needed some client information for billing. She can’t always read my handwriting.”
Holly wasn’t buying that, but Stone wasn’t sending any signals, either. She tried to relax and get back to pumping Irene. “What’s new on Black Mountain?” she asked.
“Not much.”
“Do you ever see your neighbors up there?”
“Not often. The Pembertons and the Weatherbys still haven’t turned up, and we hardly ever spot Sir Winston outside of his car. I think it’s more neighborly farther down the mountain, where the houses are thicker on the ground. I got a letter from someone wanting to start a neighborhood association, but I can’t imagine what such a group would do. After all, we have the prime minister for a neighbor, and if there were a pothole, or something like that, his people would be all over it.”
“Have you ever even seen the Pembertons or the Weatherbys?” Holly asked.
“Never laid eyes on them.”
Harry spoke up. “Irene says you’re leaving on Saturday.”
“Yep,” Holly said. “I’ve got flying lessons scheduled for next week, and Stone claims he has to work, too.”
“Nobody has ever actually caught Stone working,” Dino said.
“How would you all like to come for a sail tomorrow?” Harry asked.
“That sounds like fun,” Holly said. “There was talk of tennis with some other guests; can we call you in the morning and let you know?”
“Sure, that’s fine. I just want to keep the barnacles off the hull.”
“I’ll fix us a lunch,” Irene said. “It would be fun.”
“We’d love it, if we’re able to come,” Holly said.
They continued with dinner, laughing and talking. When Irene and Harry finally said their good-byes, Stone and Holly began walking back toward the cottage.
“That was Lance on the phone,” he said. “He tried you, then tried me.”
“What’s up?”
“We have a little job to do for Lance.” He handed Dino a slip of paper. “Dino, we have to disappear for a while. If we’re not back in two hours, call Lance at that number and let him know.”
“Let him know what?”
“Just that we’re not back. You might try my cell phone before you call him.”
“Okay.” Dino put the number in his pocket.
Holly followed Stone to the car. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you on the way.”
31
Stone and Holly got into the car and drove out of the inn’s grounds. He handed her his jotter. “You have any idea where that is?”
“No; what is it?”
“It’s Bill Pepper’s house. Lance hasn’t been able to reach either Pepper or his wife, and he wants us to look around the place.”
“Shit, what the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know, but take a look at the rent-a-car map in the glove compartment, and see if you can figure out the address.”
Holly opened the glove compartment and switched on the map light. “Okay, the address is 601 Victoria Road; that starts in Markstown and seems to run out into the country. Take your next right, then the first right after that.”
Stone followed her instructions. “Okay, now we’re on Victoria Road; see any house numbers?”
“We just passed 720,” Holly said. She dug a small flashlight out of her handbag. “Slow down, so I can see the mailboxes.”
Stone slowed.
“ 680,” she said. “It’ll be on the other side of the road.” She continued to read off the numbers. “Next house on the left,” she said.
Stone slowed, but didn’t stop. “I don’t want to just pull into the driveway,” he said. “Let’s see if anybody else is out here tonight.”
The road was very dark, and Stone continued to drive slowly. “Look for parked cars on both sides,” he said.
“I don’t see any cars, except ones that look like they belong to the houses,” Holly said.
Stone pulled into a driveway, turned around and started back toward 601. “Is that one of those lithium-battery flashlights?”
“Yes,” she said, “a SureFire.”
“I’m going to turn off the headlights now. Keep the flashlight pointed down the road.” It was enough to keep out of the ditches, and Stone finally turned into Bill Pepper’s driveway. There was a Toyota Avalon parked in front of the garage, and the house had lights burning.
“Looks like someone is home,” Holly said.
“Right,” Stone said. “Let’s find out.” They got out of the car, walked to the front door and rang the bell. No answer. They rang it again and knocked, and still no one came to the door.
“I can see into the living room,” Holly said, leaning over the porch rail and peering through a window. “Nobody there.”
“Give me the flashlight and wait here,” Stone said. “Lance told me where the key is.” He walked back up the driveway to the mailbox, looked underneath and extracted the key, leaving the tape in place, then walked back to the house. He opened the door and stepped inside, followed closely by Holly. The burglar alarm began to beep, once a second.
“Oh, shit,” Holly said. “I hope that thing doesn’t call the police.”
Stone tapped in the code, and it stopped beeping.
“How did you know how to do that?” she asked.
“Lance gave me the code; we have to reset it when we leave.”
“Bill!” Holly called out. They walked from room to room, as she continued to call his name. The bed in the master bedroom was undisturbed. They walked into the kitchen. “I smell food,” Holly said. She opened the oven door. “Pot roast, I think, and there are string beans and potatoes on the stove. Everything has been turned off, though.”
Stone placed his hand on the stove. “Cold,” he said. “They’ve been gone awhile, and I can’t see that anything has been disturbed.”
“They planned to come back,” Holly said. “Otherwise, Mrs. Pepper would have put the food in the fridge.”
“Nothing seems to have been disturbed,” Stone said. Suddenly, he had a thought. He leaned close to Holly’s ear. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered. He grabbed her hand and towed her out of the house, then went back, set the alarm and returned the key to its home under the mailbox. He backed the car out of the driveway, avoiding using the brakes, then headed back toward the inn.
“Turn on the lights,” she said. “You’ll kill us.”
“Not yet. Use your flashlight.”
“Why did you want to leave the house all of a sudden?”
“What if Pepper’s house is bugged, too?”
“Oh, I didn’t think of that.”
Stone looked into the rearview mirror. “Turn off the flashlight,” he said. “There’s a police car coming up the road from the direction of Markstown.”
Holly switched off the light. “We didn’t set off the alarm,” she said, “so the house must be bugged. Ar
e the cops after us?”
Stone checked the mirror again. “They’re turning into Pepper’s driveway.” He switched on the headlights and floored the engine. “We’re getting out of here.”
Ten minutes later they were back at the inn. They parked in front of the cottage and went inside. He held a finger to his lips as he entered. Dino and Genevieve were watching TV. “Anybody like a drink?” Stone asked, as if he had been there all along.
“Sure, I’ll have a Scotch,” Dino said.
“Me too,” echoed Genevieve.
“I’ll have one of your bourbons,” Holly said. She went into the bedroom and came back with the satphone, then took her drink and went out back.
“Yes?” Lance said. He didn’t sound sleepy.
“It’s Holly.”
“What have you learned?”
“The house is empty, lights on, dinner had been cooking on the stove, but the stove had been turned off. We think the house may have been bugged, because as soon as we left, we saw a police car coming from Markstown with its flashers on, and it turned into Pepper’s driveway. We had our lights off, so they didn’t spot us.”
“Anything amiss in the house? Had it been searched?”
“Not that we could see. Mrs. Pepper keeps a neat house, and if it was searched, it was done by experts.”
Lance was quiet for a moment. “All right, there’s nothing more you can do tonight; get some sleep.”
“Lance, if the place is bugged and that’s why the police came, then the police must have them.”
“And that would mean Colonel Croft,” Lance said. “Not a pretty situation.”
“What are you going to do?”
“There’s not much I can do tonight. I have to contrive some plausible story so that I can get the embassy on it.”
“How about Bill’s sister asked me to look in on him, and when I did, I found what I found. I could call the embassy and talk to the duty officer.”
“You do that, and I’ll call our man in the embassy, too. Tell the duty officer you want him to call the local police and report them missing, and he should ask them if they have any knowledge of the Peppers’ whereabouts. Call from your room, so the listeners will know what you’re doing. Let’s see what kind of reaction you get. Call me back in the morning, as usual.”
“Right,” Holly said. She punched off the phone, went inside and picked up the phone. “I think something’s wrong,” she said loudly. “I’m calling the embassy.” She started dialing.
32
The phone rang half a dozen times before someone picked up. “United States Embassy,” a sleepy male voice said.
“May I speak to the duty officer, please?” Holly replied.
“I’m the duty officer; my name is James Tiptree. May I have your name?”
“My name is Virginia Heller; I want to report an American citizen missing on St. Marks.”
“Have you called the police?”
“I’d rather not become involved with the police. I would much prefer it if you would speak to them.”
“What is the citizen’s name?”
“Two people: Mr. and Mrs. William Pepper. He works for one of the offshore Internet casinos on the island; I don’t know which one.”
“I know the Peppers,” Tiptree said. “The American community on the island is fairly small. Why do you think Bill and Annie are missing?”
“Bill’s sister is a friend of mine, and I promised to call him while I’m here. When I couldn’t get Bill on the phone, my friend and I went to his home. Lights were on, and food had been cooking on the stove, but the stove had been turned off. Nothing else in the house seemed amiss, but as soon as we left we saw a police car coming from the direction of Markstown, and it turned into the Peppers’ driveway.”
“Did you have any interaction with the police?”
“No, and I don’t think they noticed us.”
“What is your business on the island?”
“I’m a tourist, staying at the English Harbour Inn, with three friends.”
“I know it well.”
Holly heard a phone ring on the other end of the line.
“Please hold on; I have to answer another call.” He put her on hold for a good five minutes, then came back on the line.
“That was another acquaintance of mine in the States with the same news,” Tiptree said. “I understand your position now; I’ll contact the Markstown police and report the Peppers missing, and then I’ll call Colonel Croft at home and get him out of bed, if I have to.”
“That’s great news,” Holly said.
“I’ll call you at the inn when I know more.”
“Thank you very much,” Holly said, then hung up and turned to the others. “Why don’t we take our drinks out onto the patio?” she said. “It’s a lovely evening.”
They all got up, trooped outside and sat down. “That was a guy named James Tiptree; Lance called him while he was on the phone with me, so the wheels are turning. Tiptree said he’d get Colonel Croft out of bed, if necessary.”
Bill Pepper sat on a hard, straight-backed chair in a room furnished only with a desk and two chairs at the Markstown police station. He had been taken from a cell and placed there nearly an hour before, then left alone. He resisted the temptation to go through the drawers of the desk. The chair was extremely uncomfortable, and he frequently stood up and stretched, but he always sat down again. He had been trained to assume that when being detained anywhere in the world, he would be watched and listened in on.
The door opened and a man in a business suit, but no necktie, walked into the room and sat down. He placed a file folder on the desk, opened it and read from it for several minutes before he spoke. “I am Colonel Croft, of the home secretary’s office,” he said, finally, in his slightly French accent.
“Of course, Colonel,” Pepper said pleasantly. “Everyone knows who you are. How do you do?”
“I do very well, thank you, which is more than I can say for you, Mr. Pepper. You have committed very serious crimes against the people of St. Marks.”
“If you’re referring to the several speeding tickets I’ve been given over the past year, I assure you they have all been paid, and I have adjusted my driving habits so that I am always within the speed limits.”
“You know very well what I am referring to,” Croft said.
“I’m afraid I don’t, Colonel. Where is my wife? May I see her?”
“I haven’t decided,” Croft said.
“I assure you my wife is entirely a law-abiding resident of St. Marks.”
“Does your wife have computer skills, too, Mr. Pepper?”
“She can just barely handle e-mail, I’m afraid.”
“But you-you are an absolute whiz with computers, aren’t you?”
“I’m the chief technology officer for the casino,” Pepper replied. “Computers are an important part of my job.”
“Describe your duties, please.”
“As chief technology officer, I write or supervise the writing of computer software which allows people all over the world to participate in online gaming, thus injecting many millions in tax dollars into the economy of St. Marks. May I call my boss, the chief executive officer of my company, please?”
“No, you may not,” Croft replied. “What is your interest in Mr. Pemberton and Mr. Weatherby and Mr. Robertson?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not acquainted with anyone of those names.”
“Then why were you attempting to obtain information about them from the computers at the Department of the Interior?”
“Colonel, it is a legitimate part of my work to obtain information about clients and prospective clients, but the only reason I would have to obtain any information at all about anyone would be a perfectly normal check of employment and credit records, before establishing a line of credit for a new customer. In the event that the applicant was a St. Marks citizen or resident, one of my staff would seek confirmation of the contents of the credit applicatio
n. I expect that must be what you are referring to.”
“And would that search for information include attempting to download applications for permission to purchase a residence on St. Marks?”
“It might. Since the credit bureau on St. Marks is fairly limited in its operation, my staff might look for other sources to confirm the address and credit-worthiness of an applicant. The ownership of property is always desirable when we are extending credit to a new customer.”
“And do you have signed applications for credit from those three gentlemen?”
“All our transactions with our customers and with applicants are conducted online, so we don’t have paper records.”
“But you could produce printouts of online applications from Mr. Pemberton and Mr. Weatherby?”
“I’m afraid that our company policies prevent the disclosure of any information about any of our customers or applicants, Colonel. The home office was made aware of our policies and procedures when our business was first established in St. Marks, and so were the home secretary and, of course, the prime minister. Sir Winston takes a very great interest in companies wishing to do business on St. Marks.” Pepper was aware that both of these gentlemen took very great bribes, as well.
“Mr. Pepper, do you see the door immediately to your right?”
Pepper looked and found the door. “Yes, Colonel.”
“Go and open the door and look into the next room.”
“As you wish, Colonel.” Pepper got up, walked to the door and opened it. A trickle of fear ran down his bowels. The room was smaller than the office in which he had been sitting, but it was better equipped; it contained a heavy wooden chair bolted to the floor and equipped with thick leather straps for restricting the movement of whoever might sit in it.
Next to the chair was a large table on which were arrayed a variety of knives, pliers and other hardware that might be used for other than their original purpose.
On the other side of the chair, resting on two sawhorses, was a freshly constructed wooden coffin, with its lid lying on the floor next to it.