55

Holly grabbed the ringing satphone and went outside.

“Hello?”

“Where the hell have you been?” Lance demanded.

“Right here,” she said. “I left a message for you.”

“I just got it; do you know who got shot on the island?”

“Only what I’ve seen on local TV,” Holly said. “A policeman named duBois was shot, and they’re saying there was a reported attempt on the PM’s life, but no confirmation yet.”

“Jesus, that has ‘Teddy’ written all over it.”

“I don’t know what we can do about this, Lance; our search for Pemberton and Weatherby came up dry, and we don’t have any other suspects for Teddy.”

“Did you go over the photographs I sent you?”

“What photographs?”

“Check your e-mail; our photo analyst says Pemberton and Weatherby are the same man, and she’s made up sample photos of what he might look like in different disguises.”

“I’ll check that out right now,” Holly said.

“Forget about Robertson; he turns out to be one of the Heathrow Robbers, a guy named Barney Cox. Call me back if you have any ideas. You know about the airplane?”

“Yes, at noon; I hope he can land; they’ll probably shut down air travel again.”

“I’ll get word to the pilot to declare a fuel emergency, if necessary; then they’ll have to allow him to land. You just be there.”

“Okay.” She punched off the connection and ran into the house.

“What’s going on?” Stone asked.

Holly switched on her computer and waited for it to boot up. “Lance had the photographs of Pemberton and Weatherby analyzed, and the analyst says they’re of the same man.” She typed in her e-mail password and waited. “Here we go.”

“They don’t look like the same man,” Stone said.

Holly scrolled down. “Look at this; without the facial hair and the wigs they do,” she said and kept scrolling. “The analyst has made up some others showing what he would look like in different disguises; here they are.” She scrolled slowly through a dozen pictures.

“Wait a minute,” Stone said, pointing. “Look at that one. Who does that look like, except for the hair color?”

“Holy shit,” Holly said. “That one is a ringer for Harold Pitts! But he sailed yesterday, didn’t he? I mean, we saw him.”

Stone picked up the phone and rang Thomas Hardy.

“Hello?”

“Thomas, to the best of your knowledge, did Harold Pitts sail for Ft. Lauderdale yesterday?”

“Yes, he did. I was down at the marina, and I cast off his lines myself.”

“Yeah, we saw him sail out of English Harbour and turn to the east. Is there anywhere along the eastern shore where he could have anchored? Another marina or a cove?”

“No, it’s all cliffs on that end of the island, and there’s heavy surf from the trade winds, so he couldn’t anchor there, either. What’s going on, Stone?”

“Have you heard about duBois and the prime minister?”

“Yes, there was just a report that Sutherland was DOA at the Markstown hospital.”

“DuBois, too?”

“Yes. That pretty much cuts off the heads of the government and the police force. There’s going to be chaos, and I think you should expect to be questioned again.”

“Our airplane is due at noon, and they’ve been instructed to declare an emergency, if necessary, to get permission to land. Do you think we’ll be able to get out of here?”

“I’ll drive you to the airport and do what I can to help.”

“Thanks, Thomas.”

“Why are you asking about Harold Pitts?”

“Because we think he may be Teddy Fay.”

Thomas was silent for a moment. “Well, it wasn’t Harold who shot duBois and Sutherland. He’d be a hundred miles north by now.”

“Could you do me a favor and call every marina and anchorage and see if his boat is still on the island?”

“Well, there’s no way to call anchorages, but there are only a couple of decent ones; I’ll have somebody drive to them and check, and I’ll call the marinas, then get back to you.”

“Thanks, Thomas.” Stone hung up. “Did you get that?”

“Only your end.”

“Thomas cast off Harold’s lines himself and saw him leave the harbor. He’s checking to see if he could have anchored somewhere else on the island.”

“Let’s go up to Irene’s and see if he’s there.”

“Wait a minute; don’t go off the deep end. Let’s wait to hear from Thomas. Anyway, we aren’t armed, and we don’t want to go after Teddy naked.”

Dino was standing in the door. “You want a gun?” he said.

“You have a gun?” Stone asked.

“I’m a police officer; I’m armed at all times.”

“Good thing we didn’t have to explain that to St. Marks customs.”

“I don’t mind explaining to customs,” Dino said. He went away and came back with a small 9 mm semiautomatic and a spare magazine. “Here you go,” he said, handing it to Holly. “I’d rather you didn’t shoot anybody with it, unless you really have to; it’s registered to the NYPD.”

“You don’t have any instructions to shoot anybody,” Stone said to Holly.

“I want it for defense,” she replied. “We could need it, as you pointed out.”

We? What’s this we stuff?”

“Aren’t you going with me?”

“Where?”

“Up to Irene’s?”

“Before I answer that, I want to know your plan,” Stone said.

“Well, I’m just going to go up there and confront Irene.”

“And she’s going to say, ‘Oh, yeah, Teddy’s in the bedroom closet’?”

“Well…”

“In the unlikely event that he’s there, she’s going to protect him.”

“I guess so.”

“I think you’d better call Lance again.”

“You’re right,” Holly said, grabbing the satphone. She went outside and called Lance’s office.

“Yes?”

“Lance, among the photographs you e-mailed me is one that looks an awful lot like Harold Pitts, Irene Foster’s friend from Virginia, the one you checked out.”

“And he checked out just fine,” Lance said.

“Also, Pitts left St. Marks yesterday in his sailboat, bound for Ft. Lauderdale. We saw him leave; we’re checking out other marinas and anchorages on the island now, to see if he didn’t really go.”

“When will you know?”

“Soon.”

“Call me the minute you hear. In the meantime, I’m going to run another check on Pitts.” He hung up.

Holly went back inside. “Lance is running another check on Harold; he wants to know when we’ve heard whether the boat is still here.”

The phone rang, and Stone picked it up. “Hello?”

“It’s Thomas. Harold’s boat is not on the island. Not anywhere.”

Stone turned to Holly. “Thomas says the boat is not anywhere on St. Marks.”

“Well, I’m going up to Irene’s anyway,” Holly said.

Stone turned back to the phone. “Thanks, Thomas. We’re going to run up to Irene’s and have a word with her.”

“I don’t think I’d do that, Stone.”

“Why not?”

“Because if Harold is the shooter and he’s still there, you don’t want to be anywhere near him when the police come to talk to him, and they will talk to him. If you’re there, they’ll figure you’re in cahoots with him.”

“Good point. I’ll explain it to Holly.”

“Stone, if you’re going up to Irene’s, let me come with you. If the police show up, I can help.”

“Thanks, Thomas, good idea. We’ll see you in five minutes.” Stone hung up and turned to Holly. “Thomas has pointed out that if Harold is Teddy and Teddy is the shooter, we don’t want to be around him when the police arrive. Thomas is going with us; he can help if the police turn up.”

“Okay with me,” Holly said, jamming the 9 mm into her jeans. “Dino, if we don’t come back immediately, will you take our bags to the airport, and we’ll meet you there?”

“Sure,” Dino said.


Teddy had moved everything he needed out of his workshop, and now he turned on a fan he had rigged up that blew dust around the room. His cell phone buzzed on his belt.

“Yes?”

“It’s Thomas. Stone and Holly are determined to go up to Black Mountain, looking for you. I’m coming with them.”

“How much time do I have?”

“Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.”

“Slow them down if you can.”

“I’ll try.”

Teddy hung up and took his things outside.

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