Double Jeopardy

8

Stone was at his desk on Friday morning when Joan came in.

“I’ve got both Billy Hotchkiss and Ed Rawls on line one,” she said.

Stone punched the speaker button. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

“Good morning, yourself,” Billy said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rawls grumbled.

“Everything okay?”

“That’s why we called,” Billy said. “Ed has signed and initialed everything. Now all we need is money, and the Stone property is yours.”

“Joan?” He knew she’d still be on the line.

“I await your instructions,” she replied.

“Send the rest of the money now.”

“The bank is standing by. Hold for a moment.” She got off the line, and another lit up on Stone’s desk phone. “What else is going on up there?”

“The hearing has started in Belfast,” Rawls said. “You want to watch?”

“How would I do that?”

“Well, I don’t know, but I believe Joan can figure it out. It’s streaming, live.”

Stone barely knew what that meant. “When we’re done with the money, tell her about it, will you?”

“Sure. And don’t worry about their seeing you. It’s a one-way thing.”

Joan came back on the line. “The funds are winging their way. I figure they’re within sight of Penobscot Bay right now.”

“My banker will call when they are perched on his windowsill,” Billy said.

“Joan,” Stone said. “Ed is going to give you some info about streaming. Will you see if you can get it done?”

“Sure. I’ll call him on his cell.” She clicked off.

Stone heard another phone ringing at the other end, then another.

“Okay,” Billy said. “We have received the funds. You’re the proud owner of a large, white elephant.”

“Thanks so much,” Stone said. “I’ll hang up now and place myself in the hands of Ed and Joan. Thanks for your help, Billy.”

“Thanks for the sale, Stone.”

“Oh, something else: Is there someone on the island who decorates houses nicely, or do I have to go to Camden?”

“There is an excellent interior designer in residence here,” Billy said. “Her name is Tracey Hotchkiss. Would you like her number?”

“Any relation?”

“She has the good fortune to be married to me,” Billy replied.

“Well, tell her she has an assignment.”

“You want to talk to her about style?”

“Have her go over to my house. Seth will let her in. That should give her an idea. Tell her she can spend half a million dollars. And I want everything: furniture, pictures, sheets, towels, rugs, kitchen stuff, the works. Tell her I want it to look like someone has always lived there.”

“Tracey can do that.”

“Have her call me if she needs any more information, or if she runs out of budget. I gotta run.” He hung up.

The computer on Stone’s desk popped on with some information about streaming. After a moment, Joan came back into the room, elbowed Stone out of the way, and took over his keyboard. She tapped a few keys, then a few more, then an image popped onto the screen. Stone found himself looking at a large room with a group of people sitting around a conference table. The view was from high up in a corner of the room. Someone was operating the camera, because the picture zoomed slowly out, until nearly the whole space was on camera. The image was sharp and clear.

“Now, if you will excuse us,” a man at the center of the table said, “we will retire to consider our decision.” Everyone stood as they left the room and Stone now saw the Stone twins, dressed in suits and ties. Then the oddest thing happened: the two young men turned and stared up at the camera.

Stone had the immediate feeling that they were watching him. They were apparently not wearing microphones, but there was a live mic somewhere in the room which caught a murmur of what they were saying. Stone was certain that the name “Barrington” came from the lips of one of them. A chill ran through him.

Stone got up from his desk and sat on the sofa. “Let me know when something else happens,” he said to Joan.

“I take it that those are the twins,” she said from Stone’s chair.

“Clever of you to figure that out,” Stone said, “since they’re identical.”

“You don’t want to watch this?”

“Looking at them makes me a little sick to my stomach,” Stone replied. “Besides, nothing is happening. They’re just staring at the camera.” He stretched out on the sofa. “I’m going to take a nap.”

“Suit yourself.”

Stone closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, then drifted off.

Then Joan was calling him. “Wake up! The jury is back!”

Stone sat up and rubbed his eyes. “They’re not a jury; they’re a parole board.”

“Same thing,” she said, rising from his chair.

Stone moved to his desk. The board’s chairman was rapping on the table with a gavel. “The board has made a decision,” he said. “By a vote of five to two, parole of Eben and Enos Stone is granted. Terms and conditions will be discussed by the parolees with their new parole officer. Before we adjourn, however, the governor’s chief of staff, Edwin Ealy, would like to read to you a communication from the governor.

A man at the end of the table sat while the microphone was moved in front of him. “Go ahead, Mr. Ealy,” the now-distant voice of the chairman said.

Ealy opened a leather envelope, removed a sheet of paper, and began to read:

Ealy distributed copies of the decree to the board members and to the Stone twins. “Gentlemen,” he said, “you are free to go.”

The chairman gaveled the meeting to a close, then a remarkable thing happened: the members of the parole board and the governor’s chief of staff lined up to shake the twins’ hands. Two of the three women on the board actually hugged and kissed them.

“Joan,” Stone said, “please give me a couple of those Alka-Seltzer gummies you’re so fond of.” He sat and watched the people file out of the room, many of them stopping to shake the twins’ hands. An attractive young blonde came and stood between them while somebody with a cell phone took their pictures, then the screen went dark.

“The feature has ended,” Joan said. “Popcorn, Milk Duds, and Alka-Seltzer gummies on the concession stand to your right. The newsreel, cartoon, and adverts begin in one minute.”

Stone chewed and swallowed his gummies, then lay back on the sofa and dropped off.