Foul Play

Thirty-One

Stone was in the study, reading the Times, shortly before noon, when he heard the putt-putt of a Vespa driving around the house to the rear. He put his paper down and went out back to meet Brooke.

“You made it,” he said. “Welcome! Did you have a good trip?”

“Pretty good for a girl who had no idea where she was going,” Brooke said, unbuckling her helmet and freeing her bag from its bonds on the luggage rack. “I thought it was going to be Bermuda, at first.”

Stone took the bag and felt the weight of it. “No ball gown?”

“Nope; I’ll fit right in. If we need it, you can supply some hayseed for my hair.”

“You’ll do fine, after you’ve brushed out the imprint of the helmet on your hair.”

She shook her head like a dog. “How’s that?”

“Just fine.” He explained who the other people in the house were going to be, then he took her to their room and left her to freshen up. “Lunch is at twelve-thirty, drinks at six-thirty, dinner at seven-thirty.”

“And breakfast?”

“In bed, as always.”

“Oh, good.”

He went back to the study and resumed his reading of the newspaper.

They gathered for lunch in the kitchen, where the cook, Melba, called ‘Cook,’ specialized in good, solid New England comfort food. Today’s was cod.

When they were on coffee, Doug, the security team leader said, “Let me give you a status report.”

They all settled in.

“I had worried that, after the shootout of the night before last, we might have blown our cover and had to move. We still might have to, if something else like that occurs.”

“Wait a minute,” Brooke said. “ ‘Shootout’?”

“I’ll bring you up to date after lunch,” Stone said. “Let Doug continue.”

“I didn’t bring my vest and combat gear,” she said.

“You won’t need it, Brooke,” Doug said. “We’re secure here, as of this moment.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“We’ve kept a watch on radio traffic,” Doug continued, “aviation, nautical, and even CB. And we’ve not heard a discouraging word. Stone, your yacht captain and his crew are to be complimented for the way they handled an unexpected situation. However, the opposition is aware of Breeze, now, so all of you should stay away from her, unless we use her as an escape vessel, and that would be in the middle of the night.”

“Doug, do you think we should have a look at Nostrovia?” Stone asked.

“We already have, from the air.” He took photos from an envelope and passed them around the table. “As you can see, there are a number of places where weapons could be mounted, and a helipad, but no chopper present. It’s hard to see anything of a vessel of that size from the water; all you can see is the wall of her hull, which is steel.” He pointed to the upper deck. “You can see one of the Hinckley 43s here. And Stone was right. They’re not too large for tenders on a ship of that length.”

“Do they have an airplane at the airport?”

“We’ve run all the tail numbers of the aircraft out there and have come up with nothing — a Delaware registration, for instance. I suspect that something flew them in, then got out. I’m sure it will be available, if they choose to depart in a hurry.”

“How many crew aboard, do you think?” Stone asked.

“At least twenty, possibly more. Two of them went ashore for groceries this morning. They all wear white trousers and navy blue polo shirts, with the yacht’s name embroidered on the chest. It makes them easy to spot.”

“Or hard to spot,” Stone said, “if they change into civvies.”

“Good point. That’s all I’ve got, for the moment,” Doug said.

“Good report, Doug,” Dino said. “If you ever want to join the NYPD, give me a call.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind, Dino, if I fall on hard times.”

“What’s your definition of ‘hard times,’ Doug?” Shep asked.

“A job that pays less than Strategic Services.”

“Have we had any flyovers here?” Stone asked.

“Not a one. I’d expected a chopper, and we might see one yet, if they get bored looking for us around the island. But from the air, we look like a house closed for the off-season.”

Lunch broke up. “Is there somewhere I can get some sun?” Brooke asked Doug.

“Not unless we need bait,” Doug said. “The sight of you lying around in a bikini, or less, could attract a lot of attention.”

“Thank you, Doug,” she said, batting her eyes rapidly.

“Do we have a sun lamp in the house?” Stone asked Shep.

“I’m afraid not. Normally, sunshine is abundant around here, but the circumstances...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Brooke said.

“There’s a large library, if you’d like to read something.”

“I’d like to do the Times crossword, please.”

“There are three copies of the paper lying about,” Stone said. “I’ll find us both one.”

They repaired to the library for an afternoon of reading and television. They had been there for a couple of hours when they heard the sound of an airplane flying over, followed by a loud noise from outside.

Shep came trotting into the library. “We’re being bombed,” he said.

A voice came over the house-wide sound system. “Nobody go outside!” Doug commanded. “Continue as you were, and stay away from the windows.”

“What the hell?” Dino asked.

“Beats me,” Stone said. “Let’s do as Doug says.”

After a few minutes, Doug came into the library. “An airplane has dropped a bomblike object on the shed where the scooters are parked,” he said. “One of our team is an old bomb-squad guy from the military, and he will be checking it out in due course. In the meantime, stay out of the kitchen, which is the room with the most exposure.”

After another hour, Doug came back and said, “Come with me to the kitchen.” They followed him and had a look at an object about eighteen inches in length, which looked like a bomb. “It’s not a bomb,” Doug said. “It’s a harmless fake, used in the military to simulate bombings. I think they dropped it on the shed to see if we would all run out to see what happened, but we didn’t rise to the bait, so we’re fine.”

“They must be conducting a search up and down the beach, looking for us. This doesn’t mean they’ve found us.”