“Yes, but don’t touch him or his weapon.”
Vanessa went outside and was back in less than a minute. “I think he’s dead,” she said.
“That’s a safe assumption,” Stone said, “now change the subject.”
Nobody said anything.
Less than an hour had passed when Stone heard the sound of a boat approaching his dock, and a spotlight swept across the living room. He got up and went outside, down to the dock. He took the boat’s lines, tied them up, and shook hands with Tom Young. “Come with me,” he said.
Young stopped long enough in the living room to be introduced to everybody. “Everybody, sit down, please. I want to hear your accounts of what happened before I take a look at the body.” He had brought two state patrolmen with him, and they took people aside, one at a time and questioned them, taking notes.
“We all done with that?” Young asked. “Okay, Stone, where’s your corpse?”
Stone opened the front door, led him outside, and looked around. “I don’t see him,” he said.
Tom and his men joined him and they searched the grounds all the way to the road.
“I thought you said he was dead,” Tom said to Stone.
“I checked wrist and throat for a pulse and found nothing,” Stone said. “Dino said his shot went right through the man’s heart. I don’t think he got up and walked away.”
They went back into the house.
“Well?” Dino asked.
“He’s not there,” Stone said.
“Oh? You think he just got to his feet and, with a hop and a skip, walked away?”
“No, I think he had help,” Stone said.
“I’m inclined to agree,” Young said. “It appears he had an accomplice — or at least a ride. Did you hear any vehicles outside?”
“No,” Stone replied, “the house is fairly soundproof when it’s buttoned up. A car could have waited on the road while the man approached the house, and we wouldn’t have heard it.”
“But you all heard a noise outside?” Young asked.
Everybody nodded.
“What sort of a sound?”
“I don’t know,” Viv replied, “like someone on the front porch.”
Everybody else nodded.
Young got out his phone. “Okay, I’ve got to get some people over here, and we’ve got to search the island for a vehicle with a corpse in it and make sure it doesn’t get on the first ferry at, what, six o’clock?”
“That’s right,” Rawls said.
Young made his call and hung up. “The local sheriff is bringing half a dozen men. I suggest you all go to bed.”
Nobody moved.
“I think we’re still dealing with the adrenaline,” Stone said. “Would you and your men like beds, Tom?”
“No, I want to be awake when they get here. He said half an hour.”
“Would any of you like a brandy?”
“We’d better keep a clear head,” Young said.
The sheriff and his men arrived at the dock in due course. Young gave them his instructions. “Stone, can I borrow your car?”
“There are two in the garage, keys in them. Help yourself.” Stone poured himself another brandy and sat down.
Dawn was creeping in when Tom Young returned. “Come with me,” he said to Stone, Dino, and Rawls.
They followed him out the door, and he led them to Seth’s old station wagon and opened the rear door. “We found him near the ferry,” he said. “I guess somebody dumped him.” He directed a powerful flashlight at the rear compartment, and everybody got a good look at the body. “Ever seen him before?”
They all shook their heads. “No, but he’s a little like the photo we were sent.” He took the sheet of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Young, who compared it to the corpse.
“Not him,” Young said. “And he has no identification on him.”
25
Young and his men stayed for breakfast. “We’ve dispatched blood samples and prints through the sheriff’s office, so we should have the results soon.
“It’s troubling that this guy isn’t the one who’s been killing people,” Young said.
“I’ll grant you that,” Stone said. “It’s equally troubling that the dead man had an accomplice — whoever drove the body away. Why do you think he was dumped on the island?”
“Because the other guy knew we’d be searching all vehicles getting on the ferry this morning, and a body would be hard to hide.”
The phone rang. Stone answered it and handed it to Tom Young. “The sheriff.”
“Morning, Harv. Whataya got for me?” He listened and took notes. “Okay, we’ll take the body to Augusta for an autopsy. Thanks for all your help last night.” He hung up.
“The guy’s name was James Weaver, a former marine. That’s why his prints were on record. There was no DNA hit, though.”
“Did they get an address for Weaver?”
“No, we’ll take care of that.”
“Search the Veterans Administration medical records,” Stone suggested. “He didn’t look all that healthy to me.”
Dino spoke up. “That’s because he was dead. People generally don’t look their best under those circumstances.”
“Thank you, Dino, good point.”
Young excused himself, and he and his men left for the dock.
“Dino, you want to see what your people can do with James Weaver, ex-marine?”
“Sure,” Dino said, and sat down with his phone.
The doorbell rang. Stone checked the peephole before opening it. Lance Cabot stood there, and Stone opened it. “Good morning,” Lance said.
“Come in, Lance. Would you like some breakfast?”
“Already had it,” Lance replied. “I’d love some strong coffee, though. Did I see uniformed police officers leaving your dock on a boat?”
“State police,” Stone said. “We had an intruder last night, who ended up dead, courtesy of Dino.”
Dino gave Lance a little wave from his chair.
“Tell me all of it,” Lance said. “Maybe I can help.”
Stone told him all of it, and Lance sent an e-mail with James Weaver’s name in it. “We cast a wider net than the police departments,” he said, sipping his coffee.
Dino hung up. “My office got the same stuff as the Maine guys,” he said. “We search the same computer sites.”
Lance’s phone rang; he stepped away to talk, then came back after a few minutes. “Weaver was black ops for us and the FBI while he was a marine,” he said. “Mostly Afghanistan and Iraq, but some domestic stuff for the Feds.”
“Maybe that’s where he met Sig Larkin,” Stone said.
“Right. They were contemporaries at the Bureau.”
“Larkin can afford to hire some associates,” Stone said.
“Looks as if he did so,” Lance said. “And it’s my guess that the vehicle driver last night was not Larkin; travel times don’t work.”
“Just the telephones,” Dino said.
“When are you going back to New York?” Lance asked.
Stone looked around. “What about it, people? We’re blown here, anyway.” Everybody made agreeable noises.
“Today,” Stone said to Lance.
“Can I hitch a ride? It’s a long hop in the chopper.”
“Of course.”
“Anyway, I want to see your new airplane.”
“Then you shall.”
They set down at Teterboro early enough to beat rush hour, cars waited for both Lance and Dino. Stone got their luggage into Dino’s car, but Lance waved him over.
“Come ride with me,” he said.
Stone got into Lance’s Agency SUV, and they left.
“This Weaver’s background troubles me,” Lance said. “It’s one thing having a mad killer running around taking revenge on his former coworkers, but it’s another thing to have the work conducted by hardened pros.”