by Stuart Woods
Stone picked up the phone and called Dino.
“Bacchetti.”
“It’s Stone. Are you going to be in your office for the next couple of hours?”
“Yeah, I’m having a sandwich at my desk for lunch.”
“I’m going to send you something that, once you open it, you should treat as if it were a bomb.”
“But it’s not a real bomb?”
“No, but read it as soon as possible, then lock it in your safe and don’t speak to anyone about it, except me.”
“You promise it won’t explode?”
“I promise.” Stone hung up the phone and gave the second copy of the book, in its envelope, to Joan. “Ask Fred to deliver this as soon as possible. He is to place it in Dino’s hands and no one else’s.”
“You betcha,” Joan said, taking the package and leaving his office.
Stone opened his copy of the book and began to read.
44
AT AROUND 3:30 PM Joan came into Stone’s office. “The boxes you told me about are here. Can I have the man bring them in?”
Stone thought about that. “No, there’s a hand truck in the garage. Ask the man to unload them in the front hallway and give him a hundred bucks, then ask Fred to come down here and put them in the wine cellar.”
It was done, and Stone watched the whole time, then locked the wine cellar door himself.
He opened the envelope containing the original documents Rutledge had given him; they were two Virginia birth certificates, one seventeen years old, the other twelve. He checked Rutledge’s phone number on his letterhead, then called him.
“Rutledge & Rutledge,” a man’s voice said.
“Mr. Rutledge? This is Stone Barrington.”
“Yes, Mr. Barrington?”
“You’ll recall that we met in my office this morning.”
“No, sir, that would have been my father. I’m Carson Rutledge Junior.”
“May I speak to your father, please?”
“I’m afraid he’s not in. We expected him in from New York a couple of hours ago, but he hasn’t turned up yet, and he’s not answering his cell phone.”
“Could you ask him to call me at my office when he returns? He has the number.”
“I’m afraid . . .” the man began, then stopped. “We’ve been having some trouble with our phone lines, so he will need to go to another location to return your call.”
“All right, thank you.” Stone hung up and called Dino.
“Bacchetti.”
“Did you read it?”
“I did. I was about to call you, but I wanted to check on something.”
“What do you think of Rawls’s book?”
“Ordinarily, I would think that the guy was just some conspiracy nut—the whole business seems so improbable—but having met him, he doesn’t seem like a nut.”
“I don’t believe he is.”
“I’ve got somebody checking on the two birth certificates.”
“Checking what?”
“Checking to see if there are corresponding death certificates.”
“In Virginia?”
“No, in New York. I had someone run them down, and both the mothers now live in the city. Hang on a minute.” Dino put him on hold. “You remember our conversation last night at Clarke’s?”
“I do.”
“You asked me if I thought Christian St. Clair was capable of murder?”
“I remember.”
“I’ve just had it confirmed that the older child and her mother are deceased—a traffic accident nearly two years ago.”
“And the other?”
“No record of a death on the twelve-year-old or his mother, but they have moved from the address we had, and we haven’t been able to find a new one.”
“What kind of a traffic accident happened to the seventeen-year-old?”
“They ran off the road on the New Jersey Turnpike and slammed into a bridge abutment. The state cops thought she probably fell asleep at the wheel.”
“Anything that made anyone doubt that?”
“Not until now,” Dino replied.
“Let me call you back,” Stone said.
“I’ll be here.”
Stone asked Joan to find a number in Virginia for Ed Rawls and waited while she made the call.
“No answer,” she said. “I left a message on his answering machine to call you.”
“Thanks.” He hung up and dialed the law offices of Rutledge & Rutledge again. This time he got an answering machine and left a message.
He called Dino again. “Do you have anything further on the second mother?”
“No, but I saw something on the birth certificate I hadn’t noticed at first.”
Stone picked up the original copies of the two certificates. “I’ve got the originals. What did you see?”
“Well, first of all, the father on both of them is listed as one N. R. Knott.”
“I see that.”
Joan buzzed him. “Hang on, Dino. Yes, Joan?”
“A Carson Rutledge Junior for you on one.”
“Dino’s on two, tell him I’ll call him back.” He pushed the button. “Yes, Mr. Rutledge?”
This time, his voice sounded younger and a little shaky. “Mr. Barrington, I’ve just heard from the police that my father died in a car crash on the interstate an hour and a half ago.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Stone said.
“His driver was killed, too. The police think he fell asleep, then crashed into a bridge abutment.”
Stone was stunned into momentary silence. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Mr. Rutledge. When your father was here this morning he told me that he had recently begun to fear for his life. Do you have any idea why?”
“I think it may have had something to do with a client’s business.”
“And who was the client?”
“I’m afraid I can’t divulge that.”
“Might it have been Edward Rawls?”
The young man paused. “I believe so.”
“Mr. Rutledge, I’m sorry to bring it up at this time, but I think it might be a good idea if you asked the police to run a tox screen on your father’s driver.”
“You think he might have been drugged?”
“I don’t know, but the circumstances are very much like another accident that I’m aware of.”
“All right, I’ll do that.”
“Again, I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. I’ll call you if I have any further information.” He hung up.
Stone called Dino. “Anything new?”
“We’ve learned that the mother of the twelve-year-old left her apartment shortly after the deaths of the other mother and her daughter.”
“So when she heard, she ran.”
“Sounds like it.”
“I’ve got something, too. The lawyer who delivered the books and birth certificates to my office this morning was very glad to be rid of them and pretty nervous. He told me he feared for his life. I’ve just spoken to his son, and the man and his driver were killed in a crash on the interstate earlier this afternoon. The police think the driver fell asleep, and they hit a bridge abutment.”
“Tell the son to ask the police to run a tox screen on the driver,” Dino said.
“I have already done so.”
“Somebody just handed me a note,” Dino said. “The Virginia state documents office has no record of either of the two birth certificates having ever been registered.”
“They’re numbered.”
“Neither number exists. Apparently, they screw one up now and then and list the certificate as destroyed. Both certificates with those numbers are listed as having been destroyed.”
“Oh, shit.
”
“Yeah. It’s a good thing nobody knows you have those documents.”
Stone thought about the “trouble” Rutledge & Rutledge were having with their phone lines. “I’m not sure that’s true,” he said.
45
STONE HAD JOAN call Ed Rawls’s number every half hour, until she was done for the day. He was beginning to think that he was going to have to go to Virginia and check his house, but then he had a thought.
Holly had thought that Lance Cabot might be a candidate to run with Kate as her vice president. If so, that would explain why Lance was so interested in Rawls and the strong case. He called Lance and got him as he was about to leave his office at Langley.
“What is it, Stone?”
“There have been serious developments,” Stone said.
“Developments with what?”
“The contents of the strong case.”
“What developments?”
“For one, Ed Rawls, after living openly in his old house for a few days, is unreachable. He’s not answering his phone or responding to messages left, and I don’t have a cell phone number for him. He’s been using throwaways.”
“When did you last call him?”
“I’ve been calling him every half hour since midafternoon. The last time was ten minutes ago.”
“His place is sort of on my way home from work,” Lance said. “I’ll go by and check on him.”
“He has a car, an old Mercedes station wagon. Check his garage, too, will you?”
“All right.” Lance hung up.
Dino called again. “Any news on Rawls?”
“None. I just spoke to Lance Cabot, who has taken a great interest in the contents of the strong case. He’s going to drive by Ed’s house on his way home from work.”
“Why is Lance so interested? Does he want Kate to be reelected so much?”
“Kate gave Lance his job as director of central intelligence,” Stone pointed out, “and if loyalty weren’t enough to get him involved, there’s something else—Holly told me she thinks Kate might be considering him as a running mate.”
“Well, that would certainly get Lance interested. What’s your next move, if Ed Rawls can’t be found?”
“Ed printed two hundred copies of his manuscript and had them stored at a pack-and-ship place in D.C. He told me that if anything happened to him, to call them and tell them to mail the books. He said he has a mailing list of two hundred opinion makers. I guess that means newspapers and TV news people, columnists, and like that.”
“Have you done that?”
“I had them trucked up to me this afternoon. They’re locked in my wine cellar.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to have those books so close at hand,” Dino said.
“I know. If Ed can’t be located by morning, I’m going to see that the books are mailed.”
“You want me to send a couple of cops up there to sit on them until you can get them out of the house?”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”
“Did you discuss the books with anybody on the phone?”
“I called the pack-and-ship place and arranged to have them brought here.”
“When was the last time your phones and your office were swept?”
“I don’t know, maybe last week.”
“A lot has happened since last week. We’ve talked about the birth certificates on the phone, too.”
“I’ll get Mike Freeman to send somebody over in the morning.”
“You could call Bob Cantor and have him do it now.”
“I’m not ready to panic yet, Dino.”
“What’s it going to take for that to happen?” Dino asked.
“If Ed Rawls turns up dead, then I’ll panic.”
“Well, when you get around to it, call me and I’ll help.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that.”
“You want dinner at Patroon?”
“You think I ought to leave the house?”
“I think leaving the house might be a good idea,” Dino said.
“I’ll see you at Patroon at seven-thirty, then.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven-fifteen. Don’t hang around out front, wait until you see the car.”
“All right.”
They both hung up. Stone tidied his desk and made a to-do list for the following day. He was about to leave when he decided to call Ed Rawls’s house one more time. He dialed the number, and it rang three times.
“Hello?”
The voice was not that of Ed Rawls.
“Who is this?”
“It’s Lance, Stone.”
“Any sign of Ed?”
“I’m in his study. A lamp has been knocked over and a drink spilled. The room smells like scotch.”
“What about his car?”
“It’s in the garage.”
“So he didn’t leave under his own power.”
“Apparently not. I haven’t searched the whole house yet, but I’ve got a team of specialists on their way here now.”
“I don’t think Ed is a morning or afternoon drinker,” Stone said. “If he was having a drink, it was probably last night.”
“That’s a good point.”
“I’m on my way out for dinner with Dino. Will you call me on my cell when you know more?”
“I will. Enjoy your dinner, I’m not going to enjoy mine for some time.” Lance hung up.
—
STONE SAW Dino’s SUV outside and walked out Joan’s office entrance and into the car.
“Anything new?”
“I called Ed’s house and Lance answered. A lamp had been knocked over in Ed’s study and a scotch spilled.”
“Sounds like last night.”
“That’s what I said. His car is in the garage, so if he’s gone, he left with somebody else.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Dino said.
“Neither do I.”
They arrived at the restaurant, sat down, and drinks were brought immediately. Ken Aretsky, the owner, came over. “You two don’t look happy,” he said. “Anything I can do?”
“Station somebody to keep an eye on our glasses and fill them when they get empty,” Dino said.
“You will not run dry.” Ken went about his business.
“When is Viv back?” Stone asked, for lack of anything else to say.
“Tomorrow.”
The two were uncharacteristically silent. They finished their drinks, and they were instantly refilled.
“We’d better not drink dinner,” Stone said. “Let’s order.”
They ordered and were waiting for dinner when Lance called.
“Hello, Lance.”
“My people are here and are still going through the house. Ed is not present, and they say that the house has been gone through by pros. They got Ed’s safe open in the study, but I don’t know if they got the strong case. There’s still some cash in there.”
“What do you think, Lance?”
“I think that, best case, Ed is in the trunk of somebody’s car. Worst case? Well . . .”
46
ED RAWLS GRADUALLY CAME TO. They had injected him with something, and he felt numb all over. Gradually, it became clear to him that he was in the trunk of a large car, driving over smooth pavement. He was not bound or gagged, for which he was grateful. Probably, they had thought the drug would keep him out until they reached their destination.
As he became more conscious he began to explore his surroundings with his hands. He found a tire iron, which he put under his body, where he could reach it when he needed it.
There was a bit of light at the upper-right-hand corner of his space. He felt that surface, and it seemed to be the back of the rear seat. He pressed very slow
ly on the seat and a seam of light opened from top to bottom. Finally, he could see the back of a man’s head in the front passenger seat.
He continued to push the seat back, running his fingers down the crack of light slowly. The seat continued to give. Soon, light opened in the middle of the rear seat, which meant that it was not a bench, but divided. He could see the back of the driver’s head now, and the two men were talking, something about sports.
Ed stopped pushing on the seat. It was clear that he could press on it until it would leave half the trunk exposed, but the driver might catch that in the rearview mirror. He pushed again, but the seat back came to a stop, as if there were an obstacle to its opening. Ed got his whole hand through the opening, feeling for the obstruction, and he found it.
He ran his hand over the surface and suddenly, he knew what it was. The butt of a rifle or shotgun. He got a good grip on the stock and twisted it, to free the barrel from any obstruction; he swung the weapon and shortly, the barrel was in the foot well, and he had a firm grip on the stock. He worked the barrel along until it was touching the rear door, then he tightened his grip on the stock and pulled it into the trunk. A couple more pulls and he had possession of a police riot gun, the kind with an eighteen-and-a-quarter-inch barrel. He slid the action back far enough to reveal a shell in the chamber, then let it close.
He got a good grip on the seat back and pulled it closed. All was dark again. He arranged his body so as to be comfortable, with the shotgun lying along his right side, so that it wouldn’t be seen when the trunk opened, then he relaxed and waited for developments.
The car seemed to leave a limited-access highway, perhaps an interstate, and made a right turn. A couple of minutes later, they made another right turn onto a road that was noisier and a little rougher, probably gravel or dirt. The road wound left and right and finally made another right turn onto crunchier gravel, then it pulled up.
Ed heard the two front doors slam and footsteps on both sides of the car. He closed his eyes and made an effort to relax and let his mouth hang open. The trunk door opened.
