Double Jeopardy

18

Ed Rawls was taking out his trash early the next morning when he heard what, to his ear, sounded like a column of armored vehicles approaching his gate, from the direction of the village. Instinctively, he took cover behind the structure that held his refuse cans, and to his surprise, the column turned out to be vehicles of the building trades. First was a dump truck, apparently empty, followed by a backhoe on a trailer, three large vans, emblazoned with the name of a Camden builder, then the vans of an electrician and a plumber, then a small bus, which seemed to hold about a dozen men. They passed by and disappeared down the road to the point. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” he said, when the noise had melted away.

After breakfast, he and Sally took his boat out and cruised slowly down the bay toward the southern tip of the island. Eventually, the old house came into view. It had the appearance of a beehive, crawling with worker bees. The roof looked good, he thought. Somebody had put a new one on three or four years ago, he remembered. He got out his binoculars and let the boat drift.

The dump truck was being filled with chunks of plaster, but he didn’t see any stacks of drywall waiting, so, he reasoned, they must intend to replaster the interior. To confirm his notion, he saw a plasterer’s truck pull up to the house, a little late to the party.

“Ed,” Sally said, peering through her own binoculars, “if you were doing up this house, how would you go about it?”

“I think,” he said, “just about the same way they’re doing it, if I had the money. I’d rip out the old plaster, then set the plumber replumbing and the electrician rewiring. And when they finished, I’d replaster. The roof’s okay, the floorboards are sturdy, I imagine.”

“How long will they take?”

“How long a house takes is a function of how many warm bodies are working on it. If you’ve got five, it’ll take forever. If you’ve got two dozen, things will move along quickly. They won’t hold still long enough for me to count ’em.”

“Is there anything sinister in the way they’re doing it?”

“Expensive, yes. Sinister, no — unless you’ve got a house down in Camden that needs renovation, and you’re trying to find the people to do it. Looks like the Stone boys have pretty much dried up the local labor pool. They seem to be building the same way Tracey Hotchkiss decorates interiors. At lunchtime folks’ll be talking of nothing else over at the yacht club.”

Stone was halfway through his morning when his cell phone rang.

“Good morning,” Lance Cabot said. “I’m in the neighborhood. Could I camp out in your guesthouse for a few days?”

“Of course, Lance. You’re always welcome.”

“Oh, good. I have to drop off a housewarming gift for the Jacksons, then I’ll be over in time for lunch.”

“You’re already on the island?”

“I am; you’ll be interested in what came over on the same ferry as I.” He hung up.

Dino and Viv came down the stairs. Primmy had yet to surface.

“Lance Cabot is joining us. He’ll be staying in the guesthouse.”

“When?” Dino asked.

“Any minute, I expect.”

Lance walked in fifteen minutes later. “Hello, everybody; what’s for lunch?”

“I thought we’d stroll over to the yacht club and have some of their famous burgers.”

“Sounds good.”

“What did you see on the ferry?” Stone asked.

“I was lucky to get aboard,” Lance said. “It was filled with an army of construction people and their equipment, worthy of the Seabees. I followed them down the road toward the point as far as the Jacksons’ place, where I left their gift on the front porch, then returned here.”

“They had to be headed to the Stones’ new house,” Stone said. “Billy Hotchkiss told me they were starting today.” Stone looked up to see Primmy descending the stairs, looking fresh and new.

“Ah, Primmy!” Lance shouted, gathering her up for a hug and a kiss at the bottom of the stairs. “I didn’t know you knew Stone.”

“I didn’t, Lance, until recently.” She seemed unabashed that she had been spotted leaving Stone’s bedroom.

There was a little catching up to do. It seemed that Lance had known Primmy’s family when he was at Harvard.

“Shall we adjourn to the yacht club?” Stone asked. “It’s early, and we’ll need a big table.”

They strolled the fifty yards to the club and secured a table, just ahead of the rush. They were halfway through their lunch when the screen door slammed, and the room fell silent, just for a moment.

Stone turned to see who had elicited that response and saw, standing at the door, looking for a table, his two second cousins, Eben and Enos Stone. To his astonishment, they began making the rounds of the room, saying hello to anyone they knew.

They stopped at Stone’s table; he met them with a glacial stare.

“Hello, Cousin Stone,” they said in unison, as usual.

“Move on,” Stone said. “And as far as I’m concerned, you can keep moving.”

The twins went to the lunch counter, picked up an order they had apparently called in, then left, followed by a smattering of applause and some hisses.

The commodore of the club visited a few tables, asking questions. Finally, he stopped at Stone’s party. “Need I ask what you feel about the Stone twins?” he asked.

“I feel that, if they are still on the club’s rolls at sundown, I will resign,” Stone replied. “I mean no offense to you. They have placed you in a difficult position. But I believe them to be the murderers of Dick Stone, his wife, and daughter, who were also members of this club.”

“I understand perfectly,” the man said. “I’ve already called a board meeting for three o’clock.”

“If you need reinforcements,” Stone said, “please let me know. I can be here in five minutes.”

“From the reaction I’ve had so far, I won’t need any help.”

Stone led his party back to the house. At ten minutes past three o’clock his phone rang. “Yes?”

“It’s Billy. I thought you’d like to know that the board of the yacht club voted unanimously to remove the Stone twins from the membership list. Their boat has been towed from the club’s docks and left on a public mooring, in a disadvantageous spot.”

Stone put down the phone. “The club’s board is notifying the membership, by the fastest possible means, according to Billy Hotchkiss, that the twins are no longer members.”

Followed by several versions of “Hooray.”