Fast and Loose

by Stuart Woods

  An hour later, he was back aboard the cabin cruiser.

  46

  The following morning after breakfast they weighed anchor and left Edgartown Harbor for the forty-mile run to Nantucket.

  Stone visited the bridge, where the captain was alone, monitoring their progress under autopilot.

  “Good morning, Mr. Barrington,” the captain said.

  “Good morning.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “I don’t know,” Stone said, “is it?”

  “Is there some problem?”

  “I took a stroll last night and came across your crewman on the top deck, sound asleep.”

  The captain winced. “That’s Yancy Tubbs. I should have given someone else the first watch,” he said.

  “Has he not been otherwise satisfactory?”

  “Lazy, mostly. Also, he was tight with Mr. Macher, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing.”

  “It is not a good thing,” Stone said. “Perhaps he could fly home from Nantucket.”

  “He’s already gone,” the captain replied. “He volunteered to go under the yacht for a look at the hull, which surprised me, but I let him do it, then I broke the news to him and sent him ashore.”

  “That’s a relief,” Stone said. Then he thought about it for a moment and said, “Captain, please stop the ship.”

  “What?”

  “I want her dead in the water right now, and I need a wet suit, a snorkel, and flippers. Also, some wire cutters.”

  “Mr. Barrington, what’s wrong?”

  “I have a feeling your ex-crewman might not have done a good enough job in looking at the hull.”

  The captain switched off the autopilot and pulled the throttles back to idle. The yacht slowed, then finally stopped.

  —

  STONE GOT INTO the wet suit and flippers, adjusted the snorkel, and snapped the wire cutters into a pocket, then he dropped off the stern into the water.

  —

  A MILE BEHIND the yacht, Erik Macher pulled his throttles to idle.

  “What’s wrong?” Jake Herman asked.

  “They’ve stopped. Give me the portable radio.”

  Jake took the new unit out of its box and handed it to him.

  Macher turned on the unit, but no lights came on. “I need batteries,” he said.

  “What kind?”

  Macher removed the back of the radio. “Four double A’s,” he said.

  “Do we have batteries on board?”

  “The radio affixed to the bomb came with batteries.”

  “There are none in the box.”

  “Well, goddamnit, find some!”

  —

  STONE DOVE DOWN the centerline of the boat and worked his way forward, holding his breath. He had to stop halfway, surface to snorkel height and breathe for a moment, then he continued to the bows. From there, he worked his way aft on the port side, just below the waterline, looking and feeling.

  —

  “HERE WE GO!” Jake said. “They were in a galley drawer.”

  “Put them into the radio!” Macher ordered.

  Jake fumbled with the batteries and dropped one, which rolled under a settee.

  “Get another one from the drawer,” Macher said.

  “There were only four.” Jake dropped to his knees and reached under the settee, feeling for the battery. “Got it,” he said after a minute.

  “Then load it.”

  Jake did so and handed Macher the radio. “You do it,” he said. “I don’t want to.”

  Macher snatched the radio from him and switched it on.

  —

  STONE FOUND AN antenna taped to the stern near an exhaust pipe. He followed the wire until it came to the explosive, which was held to the hull with waterproof tape. He scratched at the tape with his nails, but couldn’t dislodge it. Finally, he got out his wire cutters and began scraping at the tape. As he pulled it free, the whole thing slipped from his grasp and went down.

  Stone swam as fast as he could, then ran out of wind and surfaced.

  —

  MACHER TUNED IN the proper channel, took a last look at the yacht, and pushed the send button.

  —

  STONE WAS SUDDENLY lifted by a force beneath him, and he landed with one hip on the boarding platform.

  “What the hell was that?” Dino yelled from above.

  Stone tossed his flippers onto the deck and climbed up. “That,” he said, “was a bomb. Fortunately, I lost my grip on it, or it would have been on deck.”

  “Are you all right?” the captain asked.

  “I am,” Stone said. “How much water are we in?”

  “About sixty feet,” the captain replied, then he pointed aft. “Look.”

  Stone and Dino looked aft and saw dead fish floating on the surface.

  “Look back there,” Dino said, pointing.

  A smaller craft, perhaps a mile off, was turning and heading back toward Martha’s Vineyard.

  “I could call the local cops or the Coast Guard,” Dino said, “and get him hauled in.”

  “On what evidence?” Stone asked.

  “You have a point,” Dino admitted.

  The others had gathered on the afterdeck now, as Stone struggled out of the wet suit.

  Dino explained to them what had happened.

  “What do we do now?” Marisa asked.

  “Continue to Nantucket, Captain,” Stone said. “Macher ran for it, and even if he hadn’t done so, I doubt if he had any explosive left.”

  The captain headed for the bridge, and they were shortly under way again.

  —

  MARISA STRIPPED OFF Stone’s swimsuit and toweled him dry. Stone wrapped the towel around him and flopped into a chair. “Dino?” he said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think you can find me a large brandy and soda, no ice?”

  “It’s one of the things I do best,” Dino said, heading for the bar.

  A minute later, Stone was letting the alcohol find its way to his toes and fingers.

  “You know something?” Dino said. “I’m getting tired of these close calls.”

  “Not as tired as I,” Stone replied, polishing off the rest of his drink.

  47

  They spent two nights in the Nantucket marina, enjoying good weather, then Stone summoned the helicopter to meet them at the airport. By midday they were back in New York, and Fred met Stone at the East Side Heliport, while the others took cabs home.

  “Dinner tonight?” he asked Marisa.

  “I’d love to, but I have to pack for Sweden. I have a morning flight.”

  He dropped her at the clinic and Fred drove him home. Stone dined alone at home that evening, already missing Marisa.

  —

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Ed Rawls called.

  “How are you, Ed?” Stone asked.

  “Uncomfortable,” Rawls replied. “I’ve been uncomfortable since our last conversation. You hear any more from Macher?”

  “Well, yes. He stuck a bomb to our hull in Edgartown a couple of days ago. I got lucky and jettisoned it before it went off.”

  “It went off?”

  “Killed a lot of fish,” Stone replied, “but none of us.”

  “I saw Breeze pass by late yesterday, on the way back to her berth, I guess. Are you going to lay her up for the winter?”

  “Not until the weather turns,” Stone replied. “We might want to use her again or we might send her south. The skipper will keep an eye out for signs of Macher.”

  “I would enjoy killing Macher for you,” Ed said, “if I got the chance.”

  “You’ve already been to prison once, Ed. Did you enjoy it?”

  “No, I guess I didn’t.”

  “Then don’t do anything that might send you back there.”

  “I might be the victim of an irresistible impulse, if I saw Macher again.”

  “Resist the irresistible,” Stone said.

  “I’ll try.”
r />   “Do you know where Macher lives, Ed?”

  “He has that security business—in Arlington, I think. He might live somewhere around there.”

  “I’ll look into that,” Stone said. They said goodbye and hung up.

  Stone had a thought; he called Dino.

  “Bacchetti.”

  “It’s Stone.”

  “Thanks for a great weekend,” Dino said.

  “You’re welcome. You’ve got a way to find cell phone records and trace them, haven’t you?”

  “Sure, I can do that. You looking for Macher?”

  “Yes. It might have a 202 area code.”

  “Just the address?”

  “I’d like to know where he is,” Stone said.

  “Let me get back to you.”

  Stone went back to handling his correspondence from his time away; an hour or so later, Dino rang back.

  “I’ve got something for you,” he said, reciting an address in Arlington.

  Stone noted it. “Maybe I’ll run down there and have a word with him,” Stone said.

  “No need to leave town,” Dino replied.

  “He’s in New York?”

  “We’ve got him on East Fifty-sixth Street, between Park and Lex, north side of the street.”

  “That’s the Lombardy Hotel,” Stone said. “Charley Fox used to live there.”

  “Macher is stationary at the moment, not on the move.”

  “Can you think of any defensible reason to haul him in for a chat?”

  “I thought about that, and no. We can’t put him in the Cape Cod area, and we had nothing left of his bomb for evidence.”

  “That’s discouraging.”

  “I gotta go. You want to meet for dinner at Clarke’s?”

  “Sure, seven?”

  “See you then.”

  —

  MACHER AND JAKE were having a drink in Macher’s suite.

  “I’m getting discouraged,” Macher said.

  “Here’s an idea,” Jake said. “Why don’t you go back to D.C. and run your business for a while? It could probably use your attention, and Barrington will still be around.”

  “It’s a thought,” Macher said. “I just hate to leave a thing undone.”

  “You can still do it, just at your leisure.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  —

  STONE AND DINO met in the bar at P. J. Clarke’s and had a drink before dinner.

  “You feeling any better?” Dino asked.

  “I should be feeling great—I’ve just had a wonderful cruise to places I enjoy. I got some sun and spent time with friends. What have I got to be unhappy about?”

  “You’re missing Marisa, then.”

  “You’ve got me there. I had become accustomed to having a sex life again, after Holly.”

  “Have you heard from her?”

  “Not since she went back to Washington. She’s got to get Kate reelected, plus help run foreign policy at the Security Council, so she’s got her hands full.”

  “And when is Marisa due back?”

  “A week or two, she said.”

  “Maybe you should pop down to Washington and call on Holly?”

  “I can’t just drop in, she has to plan to get any time off.”

  They were called to their table and had hardly sat down when Stone’s phone rang. He checked the calling number, but it was blocked. “Hello?”

  “It’s Holly,” she said.

  Stone mouthed her name for Dino. “Well, hi there.”

  “Where are you? It’s noisy at your end.”

  “At Clarke’s, having dinner with Dino.”

  “I won’t interrupt you, then.”

  “Please interrupt me. Dino is boring me rigid.”

  She laughed. “All right, I have some news.”

  “Shoot.”

  “You remember we had a conversation about Kate moving me back to my old home after the election?”

  “Yes, she was going to run with Lance on the ticket, but she didn’t do that.”

  “Lance didn’t want to leave the Agency, he loves his job.”

  “So what’s in store for you?”

  “I hesitate to even mention it. I’m superstitious, I guess.”

  “Then don’t. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “I don’t want to talk about something else,” she said.

  “Then take a deep breath and tell me.”

  “All right, here goes. I’m going to be the next secretary of state.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Adamson doesn’t want to serve another term?”

  “He’s burned out, he says. He wants to leave immediately after the election, and since Kate is already in office, she doesn’t have to wait until after the inauguration to appoint me.”

  “Well, that’s fantastic, you’ll be very good at it. After all, you’ve been practicing for the job for four years at the NSC. It’s the logical next step.”

  “I guess that’s the optimistic way to look at it,” she said.

  “It’s the only way to look at it. Can you get away for a few days in New York?”

  “No, it’s crazy here. Maybe after the election, before I make the move to Foggy Bottom.”

  “Great, I’ll look forward to it.”

  “I’ve gotta run, there’s a meeting. I just wanted to tell somebody.”

  “I’m glad you told me.” He hung up.

  “Adamson doesn’t want to serve another term?” Dino said. “Does that mean Holly is going to replace him?”

  “It means exactly that—right after the election.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Dino said, raising his glass.

  They both did.

  48

  Stone was at his desk the following morning when Joan buzzed him. “Dr. Carlsson is on line one for you.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite—which Dr. Carlsson?”

  “Oh, sorry, the patriarch of the clan.”

  Stone picked up the phone. “Paul, good morning.”

  “Good morning, Stone. I’ve been talking with my sons, and we think it’s time to return our security status to normal. They find the presence of guards uncomfortable, and some of our patients have commented on it as well.”

  “Well, Paul, the worst seems to be over for the clinic, so a return to normal might be all right, but there are still risks. What if we reduced the presence by half? That could still give you a margin of safety. Then, in a week or two, we could end it.”

  “All right, then,” Carlsson said, “a fifty percent reduction immediately, and in another week, we end it.”

  “I think that’s a good move. Have you heard from Marisa?”

  “Ah, yes,” Carlsson said, seeming to hesitate.

  Stone had had two e-mails, and she sounded cheerful enough. “Is everything all right in Sweden?”

  “Everything is always all right in Sweden,” Carlsson said, laughing. “Stone, I’m not sure you understand how strong our bond is with that country and its language.”

  “Perhaps not,” Stone replied.

  “We all feel at least half Swedish, and we make a point of visiting our ancestral home as frequently as we can find the time. We even have a smaller version of our clinic in Stockholm.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Stone said. “Marisa never mentioned it.”

  “Perhaps she should have,” Carlsson said. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better get back to work. Will you speak to Mike Freeman on my behalf about reducing the security presence?”

  “Of course, Paul. Thank you for calling.” Stone hung up and called Mike Freeman.

  “Good morning,” Mike said. “I suppose you’re calling about Erik Macher’s continuing presence in New York.”

  “No, but Dino spoke to me about it. Macher is apparently living at the Lombardy.”

  “That’s our information. You should keep that in mind when moving around the city.”

  “I’ll do that. Mike
, Paul Carlsson just called me, and he wants to reduce the security presence at the clinic.”

  “And what’s your opinion on that?”

  “I suggested a fifty percent reduction immediately, and if the week passes with no problems, then an end to it—unless a new threat develops.”

  “All right, I’ll get that done right away.”

  “Paul would appreciate that.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Keep me posted if there’s anything new on Macher.”

  “I will, certainly.” The two men hung up.

  Stone checked his e-mail and found one from Marisa.

  Stone, I’m sorry if I’ve seemed uncommunicative, but I’ve been very busy at our clinic here. Did I mention that we have a clinic in Stockholm? In any case, we’re losing two of our best doctors, who are going into private practice, and I’m in the midst of interviewing candidates to replace them and, perhaps, reorganizing some of our services as a result. I’m afraid it’s going to take me at least a month to get everything running smoothly enough for me to return to New York. I wanted to tell you now, so that if you’re contemplating any social plans, to go ahead without me. Needless to say, I maintain my liberal Swedish attitude about sex!

  Dad tells me that he’s reducing, and eventually eliminating, the security presence at the New York clinic. I’m glad of that, as it will make the atmosphere less tense for our patients.

  I hope you’re well and that you understand why I must remain in Stockholm for a while. Take care of yourself.

  Fondly,

  Marisa

  —

  THAT NEWS WASN’T good and he was concerned by the lack of expressed affection in the letter. He found it businesslike, and not much more, except for the perceived invitation to have as much sex as he wanted.

  Joan came in. “Are you having lunch at your desk? Shall I order you something from Helene?”

  “Yes, thanks, a sandwich will do.”

  “What kind of sandwich?”

  “Tell Helene to surprise me.”

  “Boss, is something wrong? You look a little unwell.”

  “No, I’m just fine, thanks.” He was a bit surprised to find that he wasn’t.

  —

  JAKE HERMAN RANG the bell to Erik Macher’s suite and was admitted.

  “What’s up?” Macher asked.

  “Not much, I’m afraid. I saw my girl from accounting at St. Clair last night, and she tells me that Charley Fox and his girlfriend have redecorated the upstairs suite and moved into it. She also says that all the locks have been changed and the security system revamped.”