“I have over a million dollars in an offshore bank account,” she said quickly.
He crammed the chocolate bar into her mouth anyway.
Holly spat it out. “It’s yours. I can wire-transfer it to any bank account in the world in seconds. You can open an account offshore on the Internet. It’s a million two hundred thousand dollars. You can go anywhere in the world on that. This is untraceable money. An offshore bank will give you a credit card that draws on your balance; you can use it anywhere in the world.”
He poured water into her mouth, crammed the candy bar in again, and retaped. Then he went back downstairs.
Did the guy live downstairs and she couldn’t hear him because of the plugs in her ears? Or did he live somewhere else and just visit her here?
At least she had given him something to think about. Maybe greed was more powerful than sex or killing or whatever reason he had taken her. She dozed off again. Even the memory of Burt Bonner couldn’t keep her awake.
STONE WAS STARTING to get cabin fever hanging around the house, waiting for something to happen. “I’m going to go and get the papers,” he said to the group in the study. “Anybody need anything?”
Nobody said a word.
Stone left the house and drove the station wagon into Dark Harbor. He went into the Dark Harbor Shop, bought the Times and the Boston papers, then sat down at the counter and ordered some ice cream. He was absorbed in the front page of the Times when he heard a deep voice behind him.
“Let me have a box of Snickers bars,” the familiar voice said.
Stone turned around to find Caleb Stone standing there.
“A whole box?” the girl behind the counter asked. “That’s twenty-four bars.”
“My wife likes them,” Caleb said. “Good morning, Stone.”
Caleb didn’t look well. He was pale, and he seemed to have lost some weight.
“Good morning, Caleb. How are you?”
“So-so, I guess. You?”
“All right.”
“Bad business about all these murders.”
“Yes, it is.”
“We’re staying home with the doors locked,” Caleb said.
“The boys, too?”
“No, they’re on a yacht race somewhere off Newport. They left before it got really bad here."
“How are they doing in the race? Have you heard from them?”
“Got a call this morning,” Caleb replied. “They were well up in the fleet, they said.”
“When will they be back?”
“The race won’t finish for another couple of days; they get into Nantucket tonight, where they’ll have a lay day, then they’ll start the return leg the day after tomorrow.” Caleb signed a charge ticket, picked up his box of candy bars and gave a little wave. “See you later, Stone.”
“Right, Caleb.” Stone finished his ice cream, then headed back to the house.
He found Lance working in Dick’s little office. He picked tip the phone and dialed Sergeant Young’s cell phone.
“This is Young.”
“Sergeant, it’s Stone Barrington.”
“Good morning.”
“Good morning. I just saw Caleb Stone in the Dark Harbor Shop and he tells me the twins’ yacht gets into Nantucket tonight, and they have a lay day there tomorrow. Can you get the local police to check quietly if they’re actually aboard the boat?”
“I’ll make a call,” Young said.
“Will you let me know the result?”
“Be glad to.” Young said goodbye and hung up.
Lance looked up from the computer. “You’re still pursuing the twins angle?”
“What else have I got to pursue?” Stone said.
“Good point. I’m just reading through the notes of the various agents who checked into the Russian mob threat against Dick.”
“You’re still pursuing that lead?”
“What else have I got to pursue?” Lance asked. “It’s not as implausible as you might think.”
“Well, if it’s true, it means we have two killers: one of Dick and his family and possibly Don Blown, and one of the women.”
“Unlikely, isn’t it?”
“But not impossible,” Stone said.
Chapter 50
SERGEANT YOUNG’S CALL was forwarded to the cell phone of Lieutenant Jake Potter in Nantucket, who was sitting in a squad car in the middle of the village, watching tourists turn their ankles on the cobblestones. “Lieutenant Potter,” he drawled into the phone.
“Lieutenant, this is Sergeant Tom Young of the Maine State Police.”
“Morning, Sergeant, how’s the weather in Maine today?”
“A little foggy.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I don’t know if you’ve heard about it, but we’ve had a series of murders on the island of Islesboro.”
“I read the Boston papers.”
“In connection with that investigation, I’m concerned about the whereabouts of two young men, twin brothers, named Eben and Enos Stone. They may be aboard a yacht in Nantucket. They sailed from Newport yesterday.”
“As part of the race?”
“That’s right.”
“If you want me to arrest them we’re going to need a fugitive warrant; you can fax it to us.”
“It won’t be necessary to arrest them,” Young said. “Right now, I just need to determine whether they’re actually aboard that boat.”
“Description?”
“Identical twins, blond hair, tall-maybe six-three or six-four- over two hundred pounds, muscular.”
“Well, I’m glad I don’t have to arrest them.”
Young chuckled. “It may come to that yet.”
“Name of the boat?”
“Hotshot.”
“Spell.”
“Hotel, oscar, tango, sierra, hotel, oscar, tango.”
“Length?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have that information.”
“Skipper’s name?”
“Don’t know.”
“Home port?”
“Maybe Newport, but I’m not at all sure.”
“That was Eldon and Elmer who?”
“No, that’s Eben and Enos Stone. And Lieutenant, if you can find out if they’re aboard without letting them know you’re checking, I’d appreciate it. I don’t want them to run.”
“What do you want me to do if they try to run?”
“If they do, please try to find out where they’re going and call me as soon as possible.” Young gave the man his cell phone number.
“I could detain them on some charge or other, maybe dumping their holding tank in the marina.”
“I don’t think that would help. Anyway, it’s not their boat.”
“I could think of something else.”
“Lieutenant, their father is a big-time Boston lawyer; I don’t think that would be helpful. I just need to know if they’re actually present on Nantucket.”
“Tell me, Sergeant, how is knowing that going to help you?”
“Well, if they’re on the boat, then their alibi for my time frame might be good.”
“Might be good?”
“We’re talking about a period of four days. They say they were in Newport until yesterday, partying, and the race started yesterday morning.”
“Have you talked to the police in Newport?”
“Yes, and they’re investigating as we speak.”
“And you just want to know if they’re on the boat.”
“I want to know if they’re on Nantucket.”
“And you don’t want me to detain them?”
“No, sir, please don’t do that.”
“I guess you want the collar yourself, huh?”
“I don’t have enough evidence for a collar. If they’re on Nantucket, I’ll have even less. If they’re not on Nantucket, then I may have some basis on which to proceed.”
“Well, I’ll drive down to the marina and have a look around,” the lieutenant said.
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
“And I’ll call you at this number when I find out?”