Stuart Woods 6 Stone Barrington Novels

by Stuart Woods

  “Billy Bob’s original name was Barnstetter,” Stone said. “He says his grandfather changed it to Barnstormer, but it might help in running down his background. He came into Teterboro on a Gulfstream Four corporate jet, and he said an engine had to be replaced because of a bird strike.”

  “Where in Texas is he from?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Anything else about him you can tell us?”

  “He leaves a trail of two-dollar bills wherever he goes,” Stone said. “Tips, mostly.”

  Weiss came back. “I called the Four Seasons Hotel. They know Barnstormer, and they have a reservation for him tonight, for a week.”

  “Be there when he arrives,” Dino said.

  TWO HOURS LATER, the corpse was gone, and people were trickling out of the house. Stone took Dino aside.

  “You’ll notice I didn’t bring Tiffany Baldwin into this.”

  “I noticed.”

  “Can we keep it that way?”

  “I don’t see why not; we can confirm your alibi without her.”

  “Good; the press would be all over it, if her name came into play.”

  “I’m not going to be able to keep your name out of the papers,” Dino said. “They’re already outside your door.”

  “Think you could give them a statement, exonerating me and saying I’ve left on a Caribbean vacation?”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Dino said.

  “I want to be there when your people question Billy Bob.”

  “Let’s have dinner; they’ll call me when he gets in, and we’ll go over there.”

  “Tell them they’re not to ask him any questions until I get there.”

  “You think he needs to lawyer up?”

  “Wouldn’t you lawyer up, in the circumstances?”

  9

  STONE GOT TO ELAINE’S first and made a show of asking for menus. Dino got there ten minutes later.

  “Anything new?”

  “Nah. Morton and Weiss are at the Four Seasons, waiting. You have a number for Billy Bob’s airplane or his cell phone?”

  “No, neither.”

  “How about a home or office address?”

  “Neither. Eggers doesn’t have them, either; I called him.”

  “You lawyers really keep track of your clients, don’t you?”

  “He’s new, okay? Don’t give me a hard time.”

  “Somebody’s got to do it.”

  “Shut up and order a drink.” Stone nodded toward the approaching waiter. They ordered.

  “Let’s jump ahead in time,” Dino said. “Suppose Billy Bob can prove he was in Omaha. What does that do for you?”

  “For me?”

  “You were alone in the house all day with the girl.”

  “The ME said she died between nine and eleven last night. I was here, remember?”

  “That was a preliminary estimate,” Dino said, “before the autopsy. What if he comes back and says she died earlier or later?”

  “You’re just winding me up, aren’t you Dino?”

  “I’m just telling you to be prepared to answer some questions. If it turns out that the girl died at a different time, and you spent the whole day as the only two people in the house, well . . .”

  “Well, what?”

  “Was Helene there yesterday?”

  “It was her day off.”

  “Swell, you just might end up fucked.”

  “Dino, I met the girl once, at breakfast yesterday. What motive would I have to kill her?”

  “Well, let me put my detective hat on, here,” Dino said, scratching his head. “You fucked her; it went wrong; she pissed you off; you strangled her.”

  “Get out of here.”

  “Or maybe you were playing that game where you almost strangle somebody to enhance the orgasm, and you were just a tad heavy-handed.”

  “Will you stop it?”

  “Of course, maybe he hadn’t checked the girl’s neck for prints; maybe he’ll find Billy Bob’s there.”

  Stone gulped. “Oh, shit.”

  “What?”

  “I touched her neck, feeling for a pulse.”

  “How many fingers?”

  “Two or three.”

  “Well, I don’t think we need to bother Billy Bob; I can just arrest you now and save everybody a lot of time and trouble. You want to cop to, say, man one? I’ll speak to the DA.”

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  “Aw, come on, with good behavior—and you always behave well, Stone—you’d be out before it was time to collect Social Security. I mean, there was no malice aforethought. You didn’t mean to kill her, right?”

  Elaine came over and sat down. “What’s up?”

  Dino grinned. “We found a dead hooker in Stone’s bed, and I’m going to arrest him as soon as we finish dinner.”

  “I found her and called you,” Stone said, “and she wasn’t in my bed, she was in the guest room.”

  “Well, that’s certainly daintier, isn’t it?” Elaine said. “I’d never think Stone would have a hooker in his bed, but in the guest room . . . ?”

  “All right, you two.”

  “You think you know somebody,” Elaine said, warming to the idea, “but you never know about their secret perversions, do you?”

  “Not until the guy does a hooker in the guest room,” Dino said.

  Dino’s cell phone rang, and he flipped it open. “Bacchetti. Yeah, I’m on my way, and don’t question him until I get there.” He closed the cell phone. “Billy Bob’s back.”

  “But we haven’t even had dinner,” Stone said.

  “You don’t have to come; I can go over to the Four Seasons and help my guys question Billy Bob. Come to think of it, you might be better off if you don’t protect him too much. I’d just as soon bust him as you; I just want to clear the case.”

  Stone threw down his napkin. “Let’s go.”

  “Did you get the check?” Elaine asked.

  Stone threw some money on the table.

  “American dollars! How nice!” She tucked the money into the top of her dress.”

  “Watch it, Elaine,” Dino said. “Stone knows people at the IRS.”

  “Get outta here, both of you,” she growled.

  BILLY BOB was sitting on the sofa of his large suite, watching a shopping channel, which was selling awful jewelry. “Hey, Stone, Dino,” he said. “What are these cops doing here? They wouldn’t say anything until you got here.”

  Stone crooked a finger. “Come with me,” he said. He led Billy Bob into the bedroom.

  “What is going on?” the Texan demanded.

  “Account for your movements yesterday,” Stone said.

  “What? What for?”

  “Billy Bob, we don’t have much time. Tell me what you did and where you went after I saw you at breakfast yesterday.”

  “You sound serious, Stone.”

  “There are three cops waiting in the other room. Is that serious enough?”

  “Awright, we ate breakfast and me and Tiffany went upstairs. Then I . . .”

  “Did you have sex with her?”

  “What?”

  “Did you fuck her, Billy Bob? Let’s have it.”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. Then I got myself together, packed my stuff and left.”

  “Why didn’t you take her with you?”

  “Well, she was kind of tuckered out when we finished, and she wanted to take a shower.”

  “Was she in the shower when you left?”

  “No, she was still in bed, but she was thinkin’ about it.”

  “Where did you go, then?”

  “I went down to your office, but your secretary said you wasn’t there, so I got in a car and went to Teterboro and flew to Omaha, to see Warren.”

  “I thought you had an engine down.”

  “Gulfstream service is real good; they flew one up and got it on there yesterday.”

  “All right, we’re going back in there, now. Tell them what you tol
d me. Have you left anything out?”

  “What the fuck is going on, Stone?”

  “It’s better if they tell you. Have you left anything out?”

  “No, that’s it.”

  “All right, come on.” He led the way back into the living room.

  “Have you rehearsed your client enough, Stone?” Dino asked.

  “Ask him your questions.”

  They asked their questions, and he gave the same answers he had given Stone.

  “Can you prove you were in Omaha?” Detective Morton asked.

  Billy Bob dug into a pocket and came out with a card. “Warren Buffett’s office number is on here,” he said. “You can get him tomorrow morning. I happen to know he’s out tonight.”

  “Berkshire Hathaway,” Morton read from the card. “What’s that?”

  “It’s just about the biggest investment company in the world,” Billy Bob said. “Now, I ain’t sayin’ another word until somebody tells me what the fuck is goin’ on.”

  “You didn’t tell him?” Dino asked Stone.

  “I wanted to give you that privilege,” Stone said.

  “Billy Bob,” Dino said, “Tiffany was murdered in Stone’s guest room some time yesterday. She was strangled. Did you have rough sex with the girl?”

  “Hell, no, I was tender as a lamb!” Billy Bob said. “Who the hell killed her?”

  “We were thinking you might tell us,” Dino said.

  “Well, I sure as hell didn’t kill her, and I don’t have no idea who did! Why would I want to kill her?”

  “Did you give her any money before you left her?”

  “Yep, I gave her six thousand bucks, in hundreds.”

  “There was no money in the room or in her purse,” Morton said.

  “Well, there you go,” Stone chipped in. “You’ve got robbery for a motive. Somebody got into the house, robbed and murdered her.”

  Morton took a packet from his pocket. “We’re going to need a DNA sample,” he said.

  “We’ll stipulate that Mr. Barnstormer and the girl had sex yesterday morning, before he left.”

  “We still need the sample. If a robber had sex with her, we’ll need to differentiate the sperm.”

  “Give them the sample, Billy Bob,” Stone said.

  Billy Bob opened his mouth and let the detective run a swab inside his cheek.

  “Is that it, gentlemen?” Stone asked.

  “For the moment,” Morton said. “Don’t leave town, Mr. Barnstormer.”

  “Is he under arrest?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “Billy Bob, you can go wherever the hell you want to, but keep in touch with me.”

  “I’m gon’ be in New York for at least four or five more days,” Billy Bob said, “maybe a week.”

  Stone stood up. “Good. Get some sleep, and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Morton gave Billy Bob and Stone his card. “Call me if you think of anything else.” Stone took Billy Bob aside. “Give me the key to my house.”

  Billy Bob dug into a pocket and forked it over.

  “Now get a sheet of hotel stationery from the desk and write down your office and home addresses and phone numbers, your cell-phone number, the number of the phone on the airplane and your Social Security number.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I like to be able to contact my clients when the police come looking for them.”

  Billy Bob went to the desk, wrote for a couple of minutes, put the paper in an envelope and handed it to Stone.

  “Mind if we have a copy of that?” Dino asked.

  “You can contact him through me,” Stone said.

  They left Billy Bob to get some sleep, and Dino dropped him off at home.

  “What did you think?” Stone asked.

  “He was plausible,” Dino said. “But I wish I liked him more for the murder.”

  “Why?”

  “Then I wouldn’t have to think about arresting you.”

  10

  STONE WAS HAVING BREAKFAST the following morning when Helene came into the kitchen.

  “Good morning, Mr. Stone,” she said.

  “Good morning, Helene.”

  “That was a terrible business yesterday with that girl.”

  “Yes, it was; I’m sorry you had to be involved.”

  “She must have been very cold natured,” Helene said.

  “How’s that?”

  “I mean, the house is heated pretty warm, and there was a down comforter on the bed.”

  “I’m sorry, Helene, I don’t understand.”

  “So why would she want to use an electric blanket?”

  “Helene, I don’t own an electric blanket.”

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “You told me to buy one last year, when you had a guest who was cold in that room, remember?”

  That stopped Stone in his tracks. “Yes, I think I do, now that you mention it.”

  “Well, she had it on, and it was turned all the way up. How do you think she could stand that?”

  “I don’t know,” Stone said, and his mind was racing. He reached for the phone to call Dino, then stopped. What was his obligation, here? If the girl had been under an electric blanket after she was murdered, her body would have cooled more slowly, and the ME’s estimate of time of death, which would have been based on liver temperature, could have been off by hours. Reporting this fact to the police could tend to incriminate both his client and himself. The phone rang, and Stone picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Dino.”

  “Good morning.”

  “Not really, not for you and your client, anyway.”

  Stone’s heart sank. “What do you mean?”

  “The ME called this morning; when he gave us the time of death yesterday, he didn’t know that the girl’s body was under an electric blanket. Apparently, one of his techs moved the blanket and didn’t remember to tell him until later.”

  “Helene told me about the electric blanket just a minute ago. I was about to call you.”

  “Yeah, sure you were. We got a whole new ball game here, you know.”

  “Well, neither Billy Bob’s story nor mine is going to change.”

  “Actually, Billy Bob’s ass is covered.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. One of my people just talked to Warren Buffett’s office; they confirmed that Billy Bob was there in time for a two o’clock meeting yesterday and didn’t leave until four. That gives him time to leave your house when he said he did, drive to Teterboro and fly to Omaha in time for his meeting.”

  “Good for Billy Bob.”

  “Unfortunately, while his ass is covered, yours is not.”

  “Oh, come on, Dino.”

  “I don’t really think you killed the girl, Stone, not even accidentally, but the consensus around here is that you’re looking like the only suspect, and I can’t squelch that. You know as well as I do that investigations follow the path of least resistance until some new fact stops them. Right now, the path to you is free and clear and well oiled. You better come up with some new facts.”

  Stone was about to reply, when the phone made a noise that indicated someone was at the front door. “Hang on a minute, Dino.” He punched the hold button, then the button for the front door intercom. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Barrington, it’s Detectives Morton and Weiss; please open the door.”

  “I’m buzzing you in,” Stone said. “I’m in the kitchen.” He pressed the button for the buzzer, then went back to Dino. “I’m back.”

  “That was Morton and Weiss at your front door, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. What do they want?”

  Morton and Weiss appeared in the kitchen, and Morton held up a document. “We’ve got a warrant to search your house,” he said. There were four uniformed officers standing behind them.

  “Anything in particular?” Stone asked.

  “We’ll need the combination to your safe,” Morton said.

  “Th
ere are two of them; give me a second, and I’ll open them for you.” He turned back to the phone. “I guess you know about this.”

  “Yeah. Sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner. Call me when they’re done.”

  “Right.” Stone hung up and pressed the intercom button for his secretary’s office.

  “Yes, Stone?” Joan said.

  “The police are here to search the house; open your safe, but lock the filing cabinets containing clients’ files.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  Stone turned back to the two detectives. “My secretary is opening the big safe in her office, but not the clients’ files. Those are privileged, and your warrant doesn’t cover them.”

  “Let’s get it done,” Morton said.

  “Come upstairs, and I’ll open my personal safe in my dressing room.” He led them up to his bedroom and opened the safe. “Help yourself,” he said, standing back.

  Morton and Weiss shone a flashlight into the safe and began removing items, beginning with the handguns stored there.

  “You have a permit to keep these weapons?” Morton asked. He held up Billy Bob’s Colt sixgun.

  Stone got out his wallet and handed them his permit. “The serial numbers are listed on the back of the license,” he said, hoping they wouldn’t check and find out that the Colt wasn’t on his license.

  “And you have a license because you’re a retired cop?”

  “That’s right. Retired cops are entitled to them, just as you will be when you retire.”

  “I’ve got cash here,” Weiss said, rummaging in the safe.

  “I keep some cash in there,” Stone said. “Never more than a few thousand dollars.”

  Weiss was holding a stack of hundred-dollar bills in his rubber-gloved fingers, dropping them into a plastic envelope. “I’ve got what looks like about five, six thousand dollars, in hundreds.”

  “That’s what Barnstormer said he gave the girl, isn’t it?”

  “A coincidence,” Stone said. “There are a lot of fifties, twenties and tens in there, too. I cashed a check for ten thousand dollars a couple of weeks ago; there’s at least eight of it in that safe.” He took his personal checkbook from his desk and handed it to Morton.

  Morton looked through the register. “Yeah, here it is. Only problem is, it’s the last check you wrote.”