Distant Thunder

26

The following morning, Joan buzzed him. “Ed Rawls, on one.”

“Hey, Ed. How’s the weather up there?”

“So-so, off and on.”

“Is that the best weather report you can give me?”

“It’s the best weather we got. It rained this morning, does that help?”

“It helps the roses, Ed.”

“Makes me wish I had some roses. Whaddaya want?”

“That ear you keep to the ground — has it picked up anything lately?”

“From time to time, it picks up a vibe.”

“What lately?”

“Russian lately.”

“How solid a vibe is that?”

“Faint and indistinct.”

“Still, it must be worth mentioning, since you’re mentioning it.”

“They may be hanging around. That’s just a rumor, and not even a solid one. A whisper of a rumor.”

“What are they up to?”

“It appears they’re hunting.”

“Not on Islesboro.”

“Hereabouts.”

“What’s the prey?”

“You remember that dead guy they found on the ferry?”

“Yeah.”

“He may not be as dead as we thought.”

“He spent a night on my garage floor, packed in ice, and he never complained.”

“That might have been some other guy.”

“Why do the Russians mind about that?”

“Apparently, they prefer their dead people actually dead. You think that’s unreasonable?”

“I guess not. Well, there is something to the rumor.”

“Which one?”

“The not-quite-dead rumor.”

“Where’d you get that?”

“From the horse’s mouth.”

“You sure it wasn’t from the horse’s ass?”

“It had teeth, a tongue, and could speak.”

“How solid was the horse?”

“Pretty solid. I had dinner with him the night before last.”

“And why do I need to know this?”

“He’ll be landing there in an hour or two, in a V-tailed Bonanza.”

“I hope he makes it through the gusts.”

“It’s okay. It’s had the mod.”

“Is he going to bother me?”

“He might, but he’ll call first.”

“He’d better, if he don’t like holes in his head. Why’s he coming?”

“He needs a rest, and he wants to get away from the Russians.”

Rawls laughed aloud.

“And he heard that my house repels small-arms fire.”

“That’s the rumor.”

“Lance says he heard a rumor that Valery Majorov is back in New York.”

“He’s a nasty piece of work.”

“They all are.”

“What does he want from this guy Collins?”

“His balls, apparently.”

“Does anybody know why?”

“At least two people: Collins and Majorov.”

“And what am I supposed to do about it?”

“You need some target practice?”

“Every day.”

“It might be nice if Majorov got in your way.”

“And then he takes a dip in Penobscot Bay?”

“Whatever works for you.”

“There might be some pleasure in that for you.”

“There might be.”

“Are you coming up?”

“I’m planning to be somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere but there.”

“That’s antisocial of you.”

“Maybe after the investigation is closed.”

“Whose?”

“Maine’s or Lance’s, either one.”

“I’ll see what I can do. What’s your man’s phone number?”

“I don’t have it. He’ll be in touch with you.”

“Okay.”

“Buy the guy a drink for me,” Stone said, then hung up.