Foul Play

Thirty-Seven

Shep took Sol’s elbow and helped him toward the safe. “Take your time, Sol,” he said.

“I always do,” Sol replied. He fanned out the three pieces of paper, each with a combination. “Pick one,” he said to Shep.

“I should think you’d be better at that,” Shep replied.

“It doesn’t matter who picks it. Only one of these is correct, maybe none at all.”

Shep reached over and, without looking at them, picked one and handed it to Sol.

Sol pinned the piece of paper to the safe with thumb and forefinger, and read off the combination as he dialed it in. Sol pumped the lever on the door. “That ain’t the one,” he said. “Pick another.”

Doug came out of the building with a coil of tubing over his shoulder. There were four men gathered with his two at the rear of a van. One of them Doug recognized as Gregor Kronk.

“Ah, here he is now,” Doug’s man said. “Sir, I’ve been explaining about our annual service and about the toxins involved.”

“What’s to explain? If you go in there before the toxicity has abated you’ll get lung cancer pretty soon and die not long after that.” He looked at his watch. “You’ve got another thirty-seven minutes before you can enter unharmed.”

“Do you have any extra masks?” Kronk asked.

“Nope. Each man is custom-fitted with his own mask. It fits only him, and we don’t have any spares. Excuse me, please.” He turned and went back into the building.

Upstairs, Sol entered the second combination and worked the handle. “No good,” he said.

“But isn’t it irretrievably locked up now?”

“No, but the work will take a while.”

Doug walked into the room. “I’ve bought you another half hour,” he said. “After that, I guess we’ll just have to shoot it out with them.”

Sol removed a stethoscope from his bag, plugged it into his ears and pressed the other end against the safe while he spun the knob. Then he began slowly turning the knob, listening carefully. “Write these numbers down as I dictate them,” he said to Shep, who grabbed a pen and pad from the desk.

“How did you hold those guys off?” Stone asked Doug.

“I told them that if they came in here without a mask they’d get lung cancer and die.”

“That would do it,” Stone said. “Was Kronk among them?”

“Yes, but I had my mask on, so he didn’t recognize me.”

Six minutes,” Shep said. Sol was still slowly turning the knob and, occasionally, speaking a number. Finally, he stopped, took a deep breath and sighed.

“No luck?” Shep asked.

Sol reached out, grasped the lever, and pulled it down. The door of the Excelsior opened. He glanced at his watch. “That’s a new record for me,” he said.

Shep stepped over to the safe, swung the door open, and peered inside; there was only one item in the safe. “Here we go,” he said. He reached inside and removed a leather letter-sized envelope and opened it. “We’ve got about twenty sheets here.” He removed them from the stack, riffled through them, then returned them to the pouch. “Let’s get out of here.” He tucked the envelope inside his jumpsuit, put on his mask and his tweed cap, and headed for the door.

Stone waited while Sol closed and locked the safe and put his tools away, then they walked to the elevator together. Sol seemed very tired.

“Are you feeling all right, Sol?” Stone asked.

“I seem to be a little more tired than usual. I haven’t worked for a long time.”

“You can have a nap on the airplane,” Stone said, tucking him into the elevator with the others.

“Masks on, everybody,” Doug said.

On the ground floor, they walked to the rear door, opened it, and started toward the vans.

“Is it safe now?” Kronk asked Doug.

Doug consulted his watch. “Yes, but one of our men got a whiff.” He indicated Sol, who was being helped into the van. “I hope he’ll be all right in a few minutes. I’d give it another fifteen minutes before you go in, just to be on the safe side,” he said, then got into the van. “If you’ll excuse us, we have another job in Boston, and we’re running late.” He turned to the driver. “Get us out of here, normal pace, no hurry.”

Five minutes later they were on the road to the airport. Doug picked up his phone and pressed a button. “Start the right engine,” he said. He looked into the back seat. “As soon as we stop, start peeling the logos off the sides of the vans. We’ll dump the boiler suits at Teterboro.”

The vans came to a halt, and everyone went into action. Stone assisted Sol out of the van, and with the help of the stewardess, got him aboard and buckled into his seat. “Would you like some coffee, Sol?”

“Sure,” Sol replied, “as long as it has brandy in it.”

Stone nodded to the stewardess and tucked a blanket around Sol. A moment later, the last person was aboard and the left engine was starting. As soon as it had spooled up they were taxiing, and five minutes after that, they had lifted off and were making their first turn.

A cheer went up from the passengers.

Doug was sitting across the aisle from Stone. “I can’t believe we pulled that off,” he said.

“You’re surprised?” Stone asked. “I expected you to pull it off.”

Sol brightened as he sipped his coffee. “I’m much better now.”

“You’ll drop us off at the Vineyard,” Stone said, “then you’ll continue on to Teterboro, have a ride in the Bentley, and you’re home.”

The Gulfstream set down at the Vineyard airport, discharged its passengers, and soon was headed for Teterboro.

Back at the Troutman house in the Vineyard, Stone watched as Shep sat down at the library table with his father, opened the leather envelope, and handed Rod the papers inside.

Rod flipped slowly through them.

“The multilathe is there,” Shep said.

“And that’s not all,” Rod replied. “There are twenty-one other patents for various pieces of equipment. I had forgotten about most of them.”

“Are they valuable?” Shep asked.

“Only to the extent that the business can’t be run without them,” Rod replied.

“Well, Shep,” Stone said, “I think we’re in a better bargaining position with Kronk if those are tucked into your safe.”

Doug spoke up, “No, you’re not.”

Stone sat up. “And why not?”

“Men like Kronk don’t bargain,” Doug said. “They take what they want and eliminate anybody who gets in their way.”