Foul Play

Forty-Eight

Stone woke early the following morning in an actual hospital bed, instead of on the slab in the ER. The male nurse came in with a tray bearing scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. The nurse left and came back a few minutes later with a phone, which he plugged in, then handed to Stone. “Line three,” he said.

Stone pressed line three. “Yes?”

“Stone, it’s Mike Freeman. You okay?”

“Yep, and so is Karl Walters.”

“Yeah, we talked. You’re both getting out this morning, so I’m sending an airplane over for you at noon.”

“Okay by me.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Not bad. Ask me again after I’ve had my morning fix of morphine.”

“There’ve been people all over your G-500 since yesterday, looking for bombs, I guess. We’re putting it back together as fast as we can.”

“No rush. The trip to England was for the Troutmen, and they’re not going.”

“Karl told me. He was very upset that he couldn’t get them out of the Citation.”

“I know how he feels. I’m not even sure how I got myself out.”

“You must have done something right.”

“I guess. I don’t know who’s talked to who, but if any crew shows up for the G-500 to England, send them home.”

“That’s all taken care of.”

“Could you call Joan and ask her to send Fred to pick me up when I get there?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks, Mike. I’m sorry about your airplane.”

“We’re already looking for a replacement. There are some out there.”

“It’s good to keep busy. Bye.”

They both hung up.

The male nurse came in with the clothes Stone had worn the day before. “We washed and dried these, but we don’t have an iron,” he said, dumping them on the bed. “The doc will be in shortly.”

Dr. May Harris came in, poked at several sore spots on Stone’s body, and gave him a nod. “I’ll give you just one more shot of morphine, then you’re out of here. A cab is coming for you and Walters at eleven.” She emptied the syringe into his IV, wished him well, and left.

Karl Walters didn’t want to talk much on the trip to the airport. He gave Stone the bare bones.

“I understand,” Stone said. “I’m glad you got out.”

“Me, too,” he said.

When he got to the Strategic Service hangar they were still reassembling his G-500, and Fred was waiting. Soon they were at home.

“Welcome back to life,” Joan said as he walked in.

“Thank you. Good to be back.”

The phone rang. “That will be Dino,” she said, going for it.

Stone sat down at his desk and picked up the phone. “Yeah?”

“It’s Lance,” the familiar voice said. “You’re going to try to kill Gregor Kronk, aren’t you?”

“Well, I’m not into actual murder, Lance, but I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to defend myself with lethal force.”

“That’s what I thought. For your information, Kronk was in Montreal all day yesterday, covering his tracks. Whoever planted the bomb was probably from the crew on his yacht, which is still anchored at Edgartown.”

“I don’t suppose you could lend me a couple of F-16s to blow it out of the water, could you?”

“Sorry, the F-16s are all booked up. You’ll want to think about your next step very carefully. Kronk knows by now that you’re still alive, so he’ll be expecting you.”

“Then I’ll let him worry about that for a while, until I can think of something so diabolically clever that he won’t see it coming.”

“Whatever you think of, run it by me first, will you? I want to hang on to you, just as much as Kronk wants to kill you.”

Stone made a laughing noise. “I’m so flattered that you feel that way, Lance.”

“You just giggled. Let’s talk again when the morphine wears off.” Lance hung up.

Next call was really Dino. “Are you sober?”

“In a manner of speaking. I just talked to Lance, and he said I giggled.”

Dino laughed aloud. “Caravaggio at seven?”

“Are we bringing women?”

“I am. I can’t speak for you.”

“See you then.” Stone hung up and called Brooke.

“Your name was in the Vineyard paper,” she said. “Phil called me.”

“I’m happy to confirm their reporting.”

“They reported you dead.”

“In that case, I deny everything.”

“Are Shep and Rod really gone?”

“They are, I’m sorry to say. There was a bomb on board our airplane. I was sitting at the opposite end from them, so I survived. So did their security guard.”

“What happens now?”

“Whatever the universe is planning has been withheld from me. I know where I’m having dinner, though. Want to join the Bacchettis and me at Caravaggio at seven?”

“I’ll meet you there, and I want to hear all the details.”

“You’ll have trouble stopping me.”

“Where am I sleeping?”

“In my arms.”

“Okay.”

“But I’m just out of the hospital, so be gentle.”

“Don’t count on it.” She hung up.

Joan was sitting across the desk from him. “All right,” she said, “now I want all the details.”

“I came, I saw, I flew, but not for very long.”

“Not enough details.”

“Somebody put a bomb in the airplane while I was waiting for Shep and Rod to meet with their architect, about rebuilding their properties on the Vineyard that got torched. It went off shortly after takeoff. I and their guard got out; they didn’t. I don’t know what else I can tell you.”

“Your pupils look funny,” Joan said.

“It’s the morphine.”

“It looks like you like it.”

“Can you score me some more?”

Joan walked out, slamming the door behind her.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’ ” Stone said to nobody.