Standup Guy (21 page)

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.

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.”

The ME left the van and approached Sparks. “Single gunshot wound, right side,” he said. “If she’d had reasonably prompt medical attention, she would have survived. Looks like she parked here, went to sleep, and bled out.” He held up a Glock in a plastic
bag. “This was underneath the body. We didn’t find a shell casing, so I don’t think she shot herself.”

“We found the shell casing last night,” Sparks said.

They stood back to let the stretcher be wheeled past and put into the state van. “It’s your scene now,” the ME said to Sparks.

Sparks put on some latex gloves and opened the van’s side door. There were two suitcases on the rear seat. He opened them both and found only a woman’s clothing, then he went to the rear door and opened that. Two black nylon suitcases with built-in wheels sat in the luggage compartment. Sparks tipped one on its side and unzipped it. The case was filled with stacks of hundred-dollar bills.

“Mystery of the money solved,” Sparks said.

“Stone,” Dino said, “it was nice of Hank and Parese to change all that cash into hundreds. Much more convenient to deal with.”

“You’re right, Dino. I wonder how much they paid whoever did the swap.”

“You can count it all over again when it gets to your house.”

“As far as I’m concerned,” Sparks said, “you can take it with you. Just give me a receipt, I don’t want it on my hands.”

Dino took out his notebook and wrote out a receipt. “Received of Dan Sparks two black suitcases, contents: uncounted.” He signed it and ripped off the page. “There you go, Dan,” he said. He grabbed one of the bags and set it on its wheels. “You get the other one, Stone.”

Stone followed Dino to his car with the other bag, and they stowed them both in the baggage compartment of the SUV.

“I want to go straight to my bank,” Stone said to Dino as he got into the car.

“Your bank is closed,” Dino said. “Holiday weekend, remember? You’re going to have to take the money home with you.”

Stone made a loud groaning noise. “Then you’re going to have to help me count it.”

“Fat chance,” Dino said.

Stone and Dino got the two suitcases out of the SUV and rolled them into Stone’s office.

“There you go,” Dino said. “Have a good time.” He left.

“Shirker!” Stone called after him, but the only reply was the slamming of the office door.

His office smelled faintly of vomit, and his desk was a mess of papers and currency bands. He swept everything off and emptied a suitcase on the top. As he did, Joan came into the room.

“I saw Dino outside the window, and I got curious.”

“That’s your misfortune,” Stone said. “Now you have to help me count the money.”

Joan picked up a stack of bills and examined them. “All hundreds? What did you do? Wave a magic wand?”

“Don’t ask, just count.” He found a legal pad and a calculator. “Each bundle is a hundred hundred-dollar bills, or ten thousand dollars. It’ll be easy.”

“You always say that when it’s hard,” she replied, taking the
legal pad and calculator from him. “Did you sleep in those clothes?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

“What happened with Hank?”

“Hank is dead.”

“What? You killed her?”

“Of course not. She and her boyfriend had a little tiff, and she brought a knife to a gunfight.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Buono’s buddy Marty Parese, who, incidentally, killed Buono and cut off his head. Hank managed to knife Parese before he shot her. Neither survived.”

He filled in the rest of the details for her.

“So you were in this office, trussed up like a turkey, when I was watching Tiger Woods play golf on TV? I should have been helping you.”

“That crossed my mind, but don’t worry about it. If you had happened upon us, you would have been trussed up, too.”

“Well, at least you’d have had some company.”

Stone finished counting the bundles, stacking them back in the suitcase as he did so. He closed and zipped it, then he set it on the floor, picked up the second case, unzipped it, and started again.

“Neither of us would have been much company, since our mouths would have been taped.”

“Why didn’t Parese shoot you?”

“He was about to, but he was interrupted by Kate Lee leaving a message on the voice mail. That stopped him in his tracks and helped Hank talk him out of it.”

“Poor Hank,” Joan said.

Stone continued his count, and Joan continued to mark down the results and do the arithmetic. “I warned her before she left the house that he’d kill her if she didn’t kill him first. She just didn’t do it soon enough. If she had, she’d have been on a chartered jet bound for God-knows-where, with five million in cash.”

“No,” Joan said, adding her final column and noting the balance on her legal pad.

“What?”

“She’d have had four and a half million—that’s the total.”

“Oh, so Parese paid somebody five hundred thousand to bring him all hundreds. I guess ten percent wasn’t a bad deal.”

“It was for you,” Joan said.

“Call my insurance agent tomorrow and explain things to him. I don’t have the heart. If he wants to see the money, tell him to get over here pronto, because I’m sending it back to the bank before lunch.”

“I think the deductible on your household policy is fifty thousand,” she said. “So you won’t get hurt too badly. Are you going to leave the money in the office again?”

“No, yesterday when I was rummaging with my chin in my desk drawers, I found the key to the wine cellar.” He opened a drawer and held it up. “So at least it will be out of sight and under lock and key.”

The phone rang, and Joan picked it up. “Woodman & Weld, Stone Barrington’s office.” She listened for a moment. “Please hold. It’s somebody named Jack Coulter,” she said. “He wants to come with his wife to see you tomorrow about legal representation. He says Eduardo sent them.”

Stone laughed. “Eduardo again?”

Joan laughed, too. “No, this time it’s Eduardo Bianci.”

“Make the appointment for late morning.”

Joan pressed the button. “Mr. Barrington can meet with you at eleven
AM
, if that’s convenient. Fine, let me give you the address. Then we’ll see you and Mrs. Coulter at eleven.” She hung up.

“Who are Mr. and Mrs. Jack Coulter?” Stone asked.

“I don’t know, but his voice sounded oddly familiar. I don’t know of anyone by that name, though.”

Stone rolled first one suitcase, then the other into the wine cellar and locked the door.

“It smells not so hot in here,” Joan said.

“Yes. Please get Helene and Fred in here first thing in the morning to clean the carpet around the sofa. There was a little accident yesterday.”

Joan pressed the
VOICE MAIL
button on the phone. “Stone, it’s Kate Lee. I haven’t heard from you, but we’re changing our dinner to Monday evening at seven, if you’re available. Call me on the cell number.”

“Was that the first lady?”

“Yes. I didn’t have the opportunity to call her back.” He did so and got her voice mail. “Kate, I’m sorry I couldn’t get back to you sooner, but I was . . . tied up. I’d love to see you this evening at seven.” He hung up.

“You look tired,” Joan said.

“Yes, that’s why I’m going to go upstairs to bed. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and counting bags of money is tiring.”

“See you tomorrow, then. Don’t oversleep and forget your dinner.”

Stone took the elevator; he was too tired to walk up the stairs.