Foul Play

Seventeen

While they were eating breakfast in the kitchen, the Strategic Services detail were moving into the guesthouse and dealing with the electronic facets of the main house.

“What newspapers or magazines do you read?” Shep asked.

“Why?”

“I’ll phone the news shop and have them delivered.”

“No, no, no,” Stone said.

“I don’t understand.”

“Shep, you have seen that all of us here have gone to great lengths to make you disappear entirely. That means not only that you may not be seen outside this house, but that you cannot contact anyone on the island, like the news shop. You are not here. Understand?”

“I’m sorry to be so thick about this,” Shep said.

“Every time you think of someone you want to speak to or someplace you want to go, don’t do it. Speak to me or your security detail, and it will be accomplished without your presence or assistance.”

“I understand.”

“By the way, your phones here have been disconnected, with an order to restore service in six months.” He handed Shep a new iPhone, still in the box. “If you need to make a call, use this, after checking with me first. It’s registered to a Barbara Harris of Atlanta, who has a part-time residence on the island, so it can’t be traced to you or to this house. Give me your old phone.”

“What about my phone book and calendar and all that?”

“Already transferred to the new phone.”

“Oh.”

They exchanged phones.

“The problem, Shep, is that you are a straightforward, honest, and reliable person. You’re going to have to begin to be none of those things. Think sneaky.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“One more thing: your detail has placed a for sale sign at the end of your driveway, with a phone number that the detail is managing. Anyone who calls about the house will find it too expensive or uninhabitable or something else to put them off. No one will view the property.”

“Good. Stone, will you excuse me for a few minutes?”

“Sure, just don’t leave the house or open any doors or windows.”

“Right.” Shep left the table and disappeared for about twenty minutes, then returned. “Stone, Dino, will you come with me, please?”

“Where to?” Stone asked, rising.

“Not outside. Don’t worry.” He led them through a large living room and into a walnut-paneled library two stories high, with a spiral staircase leading to a second level. A cheerful fire burned in the fireplace, and a man sat next to it, reading a book. On sighting them, he rose, ready to shake hands. He was tallish, slim, and with an impressive moustache, as white as his hair.

“Stone Barrington, Dino Bacchetti,” Shep said, “I’d like you to meet my father, Rodrick Troutman.” The older man extended his hand, and they both shook it.

“I’m sorry,” Stone said, “I don’t...”

“Of course you don’t,” the elder Troutman said. “Call me Rod, everyone does — everyone who knows I’m not dead.”

“Are you sure you’re not dead?” Dino asked.

“Fairly sure,” Rod replied. “Of course, I’m buried under a very nice slab of granite in the backyard.”

“No fire,” Stone said, pointing at the blaze. “No smoke coming from the chimney.”

“It’s a gas fire,” Rod said. “No smoke. Please sit down, and Shep will explain everything.”

Stone and Dino shared a sofa. “Now, do please explain,” Stone said.

“I’m sorry to have misled you,” Shep said, “but you see, several weeks ago, we began hearing from these people with the Delaware corporation. Dad got tired of dealing with them, so he handed them off to me, and we decided that Dad should be out of the picture. So, with the help of longtime family friends, among them the local chief of police and an undertaker, we simulated Dad’s death and removed him here. I’m sorry you missed the funeral, Dad. It was a corker.”

Rod laughed heartily. “I’ll bet it was.”

“So, after it became apparent that the putative buyers were not going to go away, I gently led them down the garden path, separating them from two hundred fifty million dollars of their money. They were foolish enough to think they would get it back. Then my, ah, reoccurring misfortunes began to get in the way, and I came to you, Stone. And you’ve done exactly what I hoped you would, and flawlessly. Left to my own devices, I would have screwed it up.”

“So, Dino, Mike Freeman, and I have had a good look at the garden path, too?”

“You have. What do you think?”

“I think I’ll take back what I said about you not being sneaky enough,” Stone replied.

“Of course, all your bills will be paid upon presentation,” Shep said.

“That’s reassuring.”

“The City of New York is taking care of me,” Dino said. “But you realize I can’t stay here past the weekend. I have a day job, down at One Police Plaza.”

“Of course.”

“How long do you wish me to stay?” Stone asked.

“As long as you like, or as short a time. I think that, after the weekend, we’ll be settled in nicely with Mike’s people to ward off evildoers.”

“Let’s look ahead a little,” Stone said, “and suppose that whoever these people are, they eventually see through our ruse and come after you.”

“Well,” Shep said, “in that case we may have to take stronger measures.”

Rod spoke up, “I’d welcome the opportunity to shoot a couple of them,” he said. “I’ve got a very nice deer rifle with a big scope on it.”

“I don’t think a shoot-out is your best move,” Stone said. “That sort of thing attracts law enforcement, and you can’t buy all the locals and the Massachusetts State Police.”

“I’ve left plenty of room in my backyard cemetery,” Rod said.

“Rod, please put that out of your mind.”

“All right, then, you’re in charge, Stone. What’s our next move?”

Dino turned toward Stone. “I want to hear this, too.”

“In that case, we will have to discourage them.”

“Is that all?” Dino asked. “Just shoo them away?” He made shooing motions with his hands. “How?”

“I’m working on it,” Stone said.

Dino laughed. “That means he doesn’t have a clue.”