by Dark Harbor
“Sounds right,” Rawls said. “I don’t think anybody rang the doorbell; that would have woken the girls. I think what happened was, Dick didn’t lock up right and didn’t set the alarm system. By the way, the system isn’t monitored locally. If somebody set off a motion detector or something, an alarm at Langley would go off.”
“Are there motion detectors?” Stone asked. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“It’s why Dick didn’t have a dog. If you have a dog, it has to be highly trained, so you can forego the motion detectors. Otherwise, they have to be set high enough so that a dog won’t set them off, and intruders can duck under them.”
“Dick sounds too careful to have made a mistake.”
“Everybody does, eventually.”
“Either that or he knew the person who killed him and let him into the house.”
“That’s a disturbing thought, given where we are,” Rawls said. “It’s a tightly contained population.”
“All it takes is one,” Stone said. He finished his coffee and went home.
As he walked into the house, the phone was ringing. “Hello?”
“It’s Dino. Can you meet me at the airport?”
“What airport?”
“The one on the fucking island, dummy. Half an hour.” Dino hung up.
19
STONE STOOD BESIDE the Islesboro airport landing strip and watched an airplane materialize in the sky to the south. It got larger fast, and a moment later a Pilatus PC12 set down just past the numbers, reversed its prop and taxied to the ramp. The lettering on the side said NEW YORK STATE POLICE. The airstair door swung down, and Dino stepped onto the tarmac carrying two bags. Somebody tossed him a briefcase, then the door closed, and the airplane taxied to the other end of the runway and took off again.
“Jesus, why don’t you get an airplane like that?” Dino said.
“Because it costs three million dollars,” Stone replied. “I’m thinking about having my Malibu Mirage converted to a turboprop, though, and upgrading the avionics. I can do that for half a million.”
Dino put his bags into the rear of the station wagon and got into the passenger seat.
Stone started the wagon. “So, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“This state cop was at the precinct and said he was flying up to Bar Harbor, so I asked if he could drop me here, and he did. What with the panic packing, I didn’t have time to call you. What’s happening?”
As they drove into Dark Harbor, Stone brought Dino up to date on the threat against Dick as well as Ed Rawls and the Old Farts.
“So now it’s an investigation by committee? Swell.”
“They have sources of information I don’t,” Stone said. “By the way, did you come armed?”
“Nope. I didn’t realize I’d be in danger.”
“I guess I’ll have to borrow Rawls’s shotgun again.”
“Whatever.”
They stopped at the Dark Harbor Shop. “I have to get a Times,” he said. “It gets here later than in the city.”
Dino got out and came in with him, had a look around the shop. A slender man with blond hair and beard was having a cup of coffee, and Dino glanced at him.
When they were back in the car, Dino said, “You saw the guy at the soda fountain, right?”
“Sort of. You know him?”
“Yeah, and so do you. We busted him for more than a hundred burglaries about seven, eight years ago, back when you were earning an honest living.”
“Harold Rhinehart? That was him?”
“Yeah. He has a beard now, and his hair is shorter, but that’s the guy.”
“How much time did he get?”
“He plead out for five to seven, which means he could have been out two and a half years ago, if he kept his nose clean in the joint and really impressed the parole board. You had any burglaries up here?”
“Not that I’ve heard about, but I’ll ask Rawls; he seems to know everything that’s going on. Maybe Rhinehart took his ill-gotten gains and retired up here.”
“I doubt it,” Dino said. “The guy was a pro, but he was obsessive about stealing. I don’t think there are any New York State parole officers on this island, either. If he got out in half his sentence, he should be reporting to a P.O. every week.”
“Dino, you’re a wonder; you’ve been here fifteen minutes, and already you’ve spotted a perp.”
“They’re everywhere,” Dino said. “Maybe I’ll just clean up this burg while I’m here.”
“How long can you stay?”
“I got a lot of vacation time built up; we’ll see.”
“How’s it going with Mary Ann?”
“Everything’s squared. We’re just waiting for a judge to sign off on the agreement and give us a decree, then I’ll be a free man.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Relieved.”
“No regrets?”
“Can’t think of any. It wasn’t like it was a marriage made in heaven, y’know. If the kid hadn’t been in the picture, we’d have screwed each other for a few months and called it a day the first time she complained about something. She knew it, I knew it.”
“Any luck on the apartment hunt?”
“Yeah, I found a nice six on Park in the sixties.”
“Sounds expensive.”
“By the time it’s done up I’ll have a couple mil in it.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Had to be; the court has to approve it for Benito’s visits.”
“When do you close?”
“Yesterday,” Dino said. “Things move fast when it’s an all-cash deal. I’ve already got a designer working on the renovations and buying me some furniture.”
“You’re going to let a designer furnish the place?”
“Jesus, Stone, you think I give a shit about furniture? I told her, make it nice for the kid so the court will sign off on it. She’s going to get it painted, put in some new stuff in the kitchen and get the floors refinished. I’ll be in it in a month.”
“Dino, it’s New York; nothing happens in a month.”
“This designer lady is a real hard-ass; she’ll get it done. She’s already got her people lined up, and she gets paid more if it’s ready on time.”
“And you’re letting her pick out everything?”
“I picked out the TVs and the stereo and my chair for the den. The rest is up to her.”
“Good luck.”
“Listen, I’m a better judge of people than I am of furniture. Anyway, it’ll piss off Mary Ann if I’m in a really nice place, and I’ll enjoy that.”
They drove in silence until they got to the house and started unloading Dino’s bags.
“I just thought of something,” Dino said.
“What?”
“Hal Rhinehart.”
“What about him?”
“I heard a pretty good rumor one time from a guy on the organized crime task force that Rhinehart was doing some contract hit work, but they could never nail him.”
That stopped Stone in his tracks. “Why don’t you get on the phone and find out whether Rhinehart has jumped parole?”
20
DINO PUT THE PHONE DOWN. “Rhinehart must have a very smart lawyer; he did a deal that allows him to live up here and report in by phone every week.”
“Ankle bracelet?”
“I didn’t ask,” Dino said, “but he could be out of range up here.”
“Put your stuff in the guesthouse, then let’s go see Rhinehart.”
“You know where he lives?”
“No, but I know how to find out.”
THEY WENT BACK to the Dark Harbor Shop, and Stone led Dino to the rear office, where he rapped on the door. The man at the desk looked up.
“Hi,” Stone said, “I’m Stone Barrington, and this is Dino Bacchetti.”
The man stood up. “Jimmy Hotchkiss.”
“You’re Seth’s cousin, right?”
“Right, and you’re Dick�
�s cousin.”
“Right.”
“Take a seat.” Jimmy waved them to a pair of rickety chairs next to the desk.
“We were in here earlier and saw somebody we used to know,” Stone said.
“And who would that be?”
“His name is Harold Rhinehart.”
“Sure, I know Hal.”
“You know where he lives?”
“Yep. It’s about three miles north on the main road. You’ll see a sign: RHINEHART CABINETS.”
“He’s a cabinetmaker?”
“And his father before him. Hal took over the business when his old man died a few years back.”
“He grew up on the island?”
“Yeah, then he went away to some tech college in New York State, and we didn’t see much of him after that, until he came back and took over the business. His dad was sick then, lived a few more months. Hal grew up in that shop, though, so he didn’t have any problem taking over.”
“Is there a police officer on the island?”
“Constable,” Jimmy said. “You’re looking at him.”
“Jimmy, have you had any reports of burglaries on the island?”
“Over what period of time?”
“After Hal Rhinehart came back.”
Jimmy looked at them both carefully before replying. “What’s your interest in this?”
“Dino is a police lieutenant in New York. He and I used to be partners in the NYPD, and we arrested Rhinehart for burglary a few years back.”
“I heard about that,” Jimmy said. “I also heard from his parole officer—indirectly, through the state police—when he came back.”
“That’s what we were wondering about,” Dino said. “How Rhinehart could be here, when he’s supposed to be on parole.” As if he didn’t know.
“Apparently, he arranged things with his parole officer when his dad got sick,” Jimmy said. “He reports by phone, I’m told.”
“You never answered my question, Jimmy,” Stone said.
“Which question was that?”
“Have there been any burglaries on the island since Rhinehart came home?”
“No.” Jimmy took a long beat. “But Camden and Rockland have had a rash of them. You think it’s Hal?”
“What kind of burglaries?”
“What do you mean?”
“Big, small? Jewelry, lawn mowers, what?”
“Jewelry and cash, it said in the paper.”
Stone and Dino exchanged a glance.
“We had some burglaries here, too,” Jimmy said.
“When and how many?”
“When Hal was a teenager; a dozen or more. Come to think of it, they stopped when he went to college. I never made the connection.” Jimmy sighed. “I hope to hell this new rash is not Hal’s doing. We need a cabinetmaker around here; you go to the mainland for something like that, and it’s a lot more money, and Hal’s gotten to be as good as his dad.”
“I expect the folks in Camden and Rockland wouldn’t feel the same regrets you would, if he turned out to be the guy,” Stone said.
“You want me to talk to him?” Jimmy asked.
Dino spoke up. “Let me do that,” he said.
“Okay, you’re the pro; I’m just here to call the state boys if something happens. You want me to call them about this?”
“Not yet,” Dino said.
21
THE CABINET SHOP was in a low building behind a neat, shingled house close to the road, and the smell of sawdust rolled over Stone in a wave of memory. All woodworking shops smelled like this, and his father’s shop had been no exception. It was a clean, fresh smell, sometimes tinged with burning when a saw cut hardwood.
There was a lot of machinery, some of it not new. A huge bandsaw appeared to be at least fifty years old, but it was clean, rust-free and well oiled. Three men were working on different machines, each with hearing protection and goggles. Half a dozen newly completed kitchen cabinets hung on a wall, awaiting painting and hardware.
Stone let Dino take the lead into the shop. He could do most of the talking, too, and it was just as well, given the size of the lump in Stone’s throat brought on by the scent of sawed wood.
A tall man near the front of the shop switched off his machine when he saw them enter. He pulled off his earmuffs and let the goggles fall to his neck as he walked slowly toward them. “This way,” he said, beckoning. He led the way into a spacious office containing an old rolltop desk and a large drawing table. Rolls of plans protruded from pigeonholes next to the desk. He pointed to a pair of nicely built chairs, and they sat down.
“Remember us?” Dino asked.
Rhinehart nodded but didn’t speak.
“Wonder why we’re here?”
“Yes, I do,” he said slowly. His voice was deep. “I didn’t think we had any further business.”
“Looks like we do,” Dino said. “There’ve been a bunch of burglaries.”
“In Camden and Rockland? I knew the state cops would get around to me sooner or later, but why is the NYPD interested?”
“Your parole officer wants to know if you’re involved, Hal,” Stone said.
Rhinehart shook his head. “I haven’t been off the island since I got back here. I’m confined to it, according to my agreement with my parole officer. I can’t get on the ferry, unless I have his permission, and I’ve made a point of not leaving.”
“Do you own a boat?” Dino asked.
“Yes, my father’s, but it’s been laid up in a shed since he died.”
“Do you own a gun?”
“My father had a deer rifle. It’s locked in a case over at the house, and it hasn’t been fired since he got sick.”
“You know Dick Stone’s house?” Stone asked.
“Sure, I do; my dad and I built the study, the kitchen and the dressing rooms. Why?”
“I recall that you once did some other work, besides burglary,” Dino said. “Something more specialized.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rhinehart said.
“Vito Thomasini, shot in his bed,” Dino said. “Edgar Bromfield, shot on his front doorstep from a roof across the street.”
“I’ve heard of Thomasini. Who hasn’t? Never heard of Bromfield, and I was nowhere near either of them when they were killed.”
“If you’ve never heard of Bromfield, why do you know you were nowhere near him when he was shot?” Stone asked.
“I mean, I heard of him, when I saw it in the papers, but I never laid eyes on the guy.”
“Not even through a scope?” Dino asked.
“Listen, if there’d been the slightest evidence against me for those killings, you guys would have been all over me at the time. Why are you asking about Dick Stone? You think I killed him, too?”
“Did you?” Stone asked.
“Of course not. I liked the guy, and he paid us well for our work. I had no motive to kill him.”
“Sometimes, all the motive you need is a phone call and some cash,” Dino pointed out. “It’s not as though you have a conscience about these things.”
“Look, I stole a lot of jewelry, cash and other stuff, but I’ve never killed anybody.”
“Funny how you have this reputation, then,” Dino said.
“I don’t believe I do. Anyway, the only people who know I’m even on this island are those who live here, the state cops and my parole officer. Nobody I ever knew in that old life has ever even heard of Islesboro.”
“You’re in the phone book,” Stone said.
“The cabinet shop is; I’m not. I’m dug in here. I’ve got a wife and a kid and a fine business; I don’t need to steal from people or kill them for money. Go talk to my banker.”
“I believe you,” Stone said.
Dino looked at him as if he were crazy.
“I don’t think anybody who built that study for Dick Stone, who knew him, could kill him.”
“Thank you,” Rhinehart said.
“Let’s go, Din
o,” Stone said, standing up.
“You really think we’re done here?” Dino asked. They were all on their feet now.
“What’s your interest in Dick Stone?” Rhinehart asked, as they moved back into the shop and toward the front door.
“He was my first cousin.”
“I see.”
Stone looked around the shop. “My father was a cabinetmaker and furniture maker in New York.”
Rhinehart looked thoughtful. “Not Malon Barrington?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen some of his work. He was as good as they come.”
Stone wondered if he’d seen that work in people’s homes, after breaking in. “You said you liked Dick?”
“I did. He was easy to work with, and he paid on time. He understood what we were doing for him and how good the work was.”
“Would you like to do something for Dick?” Stone asked.
“What could I do for him now?” Rhinehart asked, as they reached the front door.
“You could break into his house,” Stone said.
“What?”
“I want to know how hard it is. You know the place.”
“I know he has an elaborate security system,” Rhinehart said. “A bunch of guys from out of the state were just beginning to install it when we were finishing the study.”
“Will you come and take a look?” Stone said. “I’d really like your opinion; it might help me learn who killed Dick.”
“Since you put it that way,” Rhinehart said. Stone shook his hand. “After work?” “Around six.”
“See you then.” Stone led Dino out of the place.
22
DINO WAS FUMING as they drove away from the cabinet shop.
“Jesus, I’m glad you’re not a cop anymore. You’ve gone all squishy soft. We might have gotten something out of him.”
“No, we wouldn’t,” Stone said. “He was trying to be cooperative, against his better instincts, and I didn’t want to piss him off.”
