“Yes, sir, that’s pretty much the situation. No, I’m just going to look at the body now.” He listened for a moment. “Yes, sir.” He hung up the phone. “Milt, the sheriff says to stay away from the body and don’t contaminate the crime scene.”
Milt, who had already pulled back the tablecloth, put it back and walked back to the front door. “Okay,” he said. “What happened here?”
Stone sat down in a hall chair. “Let’s wait for the sheriff,” he said. “I don’t want to have to go through this twice.”
Dino appeared on the upstairs landing, still buttoning his shirt. “What’s happened?” he called to Stone. Mike Freeman and the Eggerses were right behind him, in various stages of dress.
“Dino, you come down here,” he said. “Will the rest of you please wait upstairs until somebody comes to get you? Thanks.”
Dino walked down the stairs, looking at the covered body, and came over to Stone. “Who is it?”
“Arrington. Shotgun.” He nodded toward the weapon, then shook his head.
Dino put a hand on his shoulder. “Who?”
“Had to be Rutledge, the architect.”
“Who are you?” the deputy Milt asked.
“This is Detective Lieutenant Dino Bacchetti of the New York City police department,” Stone said. “Dino, deputies Milt and Jake.”
Dino shook hands with the two young men, then pulled up a chair and sat next to Stone. “I’m so sorry, pal,” he said. “I wish I could tell you how sorry.”
Stone nodded, then took some deep breaths.
Kelli reached the front steps, then ran up them and peered through a window next to the door. She could see a shotgun on the floor, and she thought she knew what that meant, and she could see, farther down the hall, a pair of feet protruding from under a white cloth. The toenails had been painted.
She dug into her bag and found her New York City press pass and hung the cord around her neck, then she got out her iPhone and took a photograph of the corpse’s feet through the window, using the zoom to its fullest.
The sheriff’s car pulled up, and he got out and came up the steps. A young woman with a plastic card dangling from her neck ran over to him.
“Sheriff, I’m a reporter,” she said, holding up the card, which had her photograph on it. “May I come inside? I’ll stay out of your way.”
The front door opened, and Stone Barrington came out and introduced himself to the sheriff. She snapped a shot of them shaking hands.
“Mr. Barrington, this young lady says she’s a reporter and wants to come inside. Do you want her inside?”
Stone looked at the young woman and recognized her from the party. “Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m Kelli Keane from the Post. We’ve talked on the phone.”
“No,” Stone said to the sheriff, “I don’t want her inside.” He opened the door for the sheriff, then closed it behind them, leaving Kelli on the porch.
Kelli went back to the window by the door, switched off the phone’s flash, and took as many shots as she could. Then she moved to the next window and saw the two young people sitting on a sofa together and took some shots of them.
52
S tone sat down in the hallway and began to talk to the sheriff. They were interrupted when the crime-scene team arrived and took their instructions from the sheriff, who then returned to Stone’s side.
“I’m sorry about all this,” he said to Stone, waving his hand at all the people in the hall.
“I’m a retired homicide detective,” Stone replied. “I know what you have to do.” He introduced Dino.
The sheriff listened as Stone related the facts of his morning, carefully and fully. “That’s it,” he said finally, “right up to this moment.”
“I’d like to talk with your son and his friend,” the sheriff said.
“Come with me.” Stone led him into the living room. “Peter, Hattie, this is the sheriff. He needs to ask you some questions.”
“Separately,” the sheriff said.
“Hattie, you come with me,” Stone replied. “Peter, can you answer his questions now?”
“Yes, Dad,” Peter said.
Stone led Hattie into the study, where they sat down on a sofa.
“I’m awfully sorry, Mr. Barrington,” she said.
“Thank you, Hattie. I’m all right. How do you think Peter is holding up?”
“A lot better than I would be,” she said.
Hattie’s parents came into the room and expressed their condolences.
“Is there anything we can do?” Sean Patrick asked.
“I don’t think so,” Stone said. “The sheriff will want to talk with you, I’m sure. I expect you’ll want to go back to New York this afternoon, and Mike will have room on his airplane for you.”
“I want to stay with Peter,” Hattie said.
“We’d be glad to have you, Hattie,” Stone replied, “but that’s up to your folks.”
They looked at each other and nodded. “You can stay on for the rest of the week, Hattie,” her father said. “We’ll arrange for you to get back.”
“Please let me deal with that,” Stone said. “I’ll need a day or two to handle matters here, then I’ll let you know when we can get Hattie home.”
The Eggerses and Mike Freeman came in, expressed their sorrow, and everyone sat quietly. Shortly, Peter came in.
“Hattie, the sheriff wants to talk with you now,” he said.
Hattie returned to the living room.
Two hours later the sheriff and his people had completed their work, and Arrington’s body was being wheeled to the ambulance.
“I’ve sent people to find Dr. Rutledge,” the sheriff said to Stone, “but so far, they haven’t been able to locate him. He’s not at home, and his car isn’t there, either. You were right, he drives a Ford station wagon. Is that what you saw driving away?”
“It could have been a Ford,” Stone said. “I couldn’t swear to it.”
“Mr. Barrington, I haven’t asked you this yet, but I need to now. How was your relationship with your wife?”
“We were newlyweds,” Stone said, “married on Christmas Day. We hadn’t even had an argument.”
“I understand. I’m aware that your wife was a wealthy woman. Can you tell me about her will?”
“I haven’t read it,” Stone said, “but Mr. Eggers over there wrote it, and he has my permission to tell you whatever you want to know.” He beckoned to Eggers and asked him to speak to the sheriff. Fifteen minutes later the house was empty of law enforcement, and two maids were cleaning the hall floor where Arrington had fallen.
Somes came into the study, where everyone had gathered. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “we’ve prepared soup and sandwiches for everyone, and the table is set in the kitchen.”
Stone saw the others to the table, then, unable to eat anything, went upstairs. He lay on the bed for an hour, trying to empty his mind of everything, which turned out to be impossible. Finally, he took a deep breath, got up, and went downstairs.
Everyone had gathered, and Arrington’s pilots had come to drive them to the airport.
“I’m staying,” Dino said. “I’ll deal with the local law for you.”
His son came over. “I’d like to stay, too, Dad.”
“Ben, I think it’s best if you get back to school,” Dino said. “If there’s a service later, you can come back for that.”
“Thanks, Dino,” Stone said.
When he saw his guests out, Kelli Keane was still on the porch, shivering. “My car is in a ditch,” she said.
“We saw it on the way in,” one of the pilots said. “We’ll get it out for you.”
Everyone made their good-byes and got into the van. They had just driven away when another car pulled up to the house, and a priest got out and introduced himself.
“I’m Dr. Alfred Means,” he said, offering Stone his hand.
Stone took him into the house, allowed him to offer a prayer, then they made tentative arrangements for Arrington’s burial in the family plot, after the release of her body by the medical examiner.