Fast and Loose

58

Stone and Rawls sat across the kitchen table from a Captain Sawyer, chief of the Virginia State Police Bureau of Criminal Investigation, who looked tired and a little baffled.

“Mr. Rawls,” Sawyer said, “I have to tell you, in thirty years of serving in law enforcement, that is the most complicated story I have ever heard.”

“That’s the way it happened,” Rawls replied. “Sometimes life is complicated.”

“Life is usually complicated,” Sawyer replied, “but not that complicated.” He looked at Stone, who had remained mostly mute. “Mr. Barrington, is that the way you saw it happen?”

“Captain, I’m Mr. Rawls’s attorney. I wouldn’t let him lie to a law enforcement officer.”

“Well, I spoke to Commissioner Bacchetti, in New York, as you suggested, and he backs you up about the threat constituted by Jacob Herman and Erik Macher. After hearing about them, I’m not surprised there were explosives in the trunk of Macher’s car.”

“I was surprised,” Rawls said. “I was aiming at his right rear tire, not his trunk.”

Stone kicked him under the table.

“But that’s all I’ve got to tell you,” Rawls said.

Stone breathed a sigh of relief.

“Lieutenant,” Sawyer said to the uniformed officer leaning against a kitchen counter, “I’m satisfied with Mr. Rawls’s and Mr. Barrington’s accounts of what happened here. You may remove Mr. Herman’s body to the state crime lab. Have you found any of Mr. Macher?”

“A few charred pieces of bone,” the lieutenant replied. “I guess everything else was just vaporized.”

“I’m not surprised,” Sawyer said. “That must have been some explosion. We got nine-one-one calls from miles around. Most folks thought there had been a plane crash.”

“I’m not surprised,” Rawls said.

Sawyer slapped his palms on the table. “Well, I’m outta here, Lieutenant. You got anything else?”

“That’s it for us, Captain.”

The officers shook hands with Stone and Ed and filed out of the house. A moment later, the last of their vehicles had left the property.

“I’m glad that’s over,” Stone said, then he jumped as there came a knock on the door.

Rawls answered it and found a man in work clothes standing there.

“Mornin’, Mr. Rawls,” he said. “Is it okay now if I fill up that hole and get my backhoe outta here?”

“Go right ahead,” Rawls said, “and send me a bill.” He came back and sat down at the table.

“I thought you were going to talk us right into prison,” Stone said.

“I’ve always been a good explainer.”

“I wish I had a transcript of what you said, in case they ask me any more questions.”

Rawls removed a small recorder from his shirt pocket. “I’ll send you a transcript,” he said. He got up, went to a drawer, and came back with a thick envelope. “And speaking of manuscripts, here’s mine. There are letters from three publishers inside. They saw one of the earlier ones we disseminated a while back. Will you call them and get me a deal?”

Stone picked up the envelope and weighed it. “It seems to have grown a bit.”

“I added a few things.”

“Sure, Ed, I’ll get it done. Now, I’ve got some calls to make and then do you mind if I borrow a bed? I need a few hours of sleep.”

“Top of the stairs, to your left,” Ed said. “In fact, I’m headed up to my bed now.” He got up and headed for the stairs.

Stone conferenced in Mike Freeman and Charley Fox and gave them an abbreviated version of Ed’s account to the police. “It’s okay to pull all your people out of the Carlsson Clinic, Mike,” Stone said. “I’ll let them know.”

“Done,” Mike said, “and congratulations on a good outcome.”

Stone called Paul Carlsson and told him he would shortly be free of security guards.

Carlsson seemed to speak a little hesitantly. “Ah, Stone, have you, ah, read your e-mails this morning?”

“No, Paul, I’ve been kind of busy.”

“Well, Marisa has decided to stay on in Stockholm and run our clinic there. She’ll explain everything in her e-mail.”

“Thank you, Paul,” Stone said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“And thank you, Stone, for everything you’ve done for us.”

The two men hung up, and Stone went to his e-mail: there it was.

His shoulders slumped, and he realized he had been half expecting this. He’d just have to get over it. He was about to call Joan when his phone rang; private call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Holly.”

Stone brightened. “Hi, there, how are you?”

“Very well, thanks. Listen, I know this is short notice, but Kate is in town overnight from the campaign trail, and she and Will want to talk to you about something. Can you fly down here and stay the night in the family quarters?”

“As it happens, I’m down here already, at Ed Rawls’s house, near Langley, and I’d love to.”

“Wonderful. I’ve gotta run right now, but we’ll catch up later. Use the West Wing entrance, and they’d like you there around six o’clock.”

“See you then.” He hung up, feeling much better, and called Joan.

“The Barrington Practice.”

“Hi, I’m going to be in D.C. overnight. I should be home around midday tomorrow. I’ll give Fred an ETA in the morning, and he can meet me at Teterboro.”

“Okeydoke.”

“Anything going on there?”

“Dino called and said he talked to the Virginia police, and not to call him until tomorrow. He’s in meetings all day today.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow.” He hung up, then trudged upstairs and found the guest room. He stretched out on the bed, fully clothed, and pulled a quilt over him. As he did, his phone rang again.

“Hello?”

“Stone, it’s Ed Eagle. How are you?”

“Just fine, Ed.”

“There’s something you need to think about.”

“What’s that?”

“You know the Dudleys, from Dallas, who have a place next door to you?”

“Never met them.”

“Well, they have three acres, a beautiful piece of land, with a house on it that’s smaller than yours. They want to sell, and the price is right. If you combine the two, you’d have five gorgeous acres and a big guesthouse. Interested?”

“Ed, I don’t have room in my brain for that right now, but I’ll think about it. Can I call you tomorrow?”

“Okay, but don’t wait any longer or they’ll give it to an agent to sell.”

“Thanks, Ed. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Stone stared at the ceiling. He felt relief at having Macher out of his way, and regret over Marisa’s decision. It didn’t take long for him to convince himself that it was better this way.

He drifted off into an untroubled sleep.