Fast and Loose

19

Stone and Marisa went upstairs to change, and he dumped his trousers, damp to the calf, into a hamper, along with his sweaty shirt and underwear, and put trees into his wet shoes. At least they had grown up wet, being alligator.

The phone rang, and he sat on the bedside and answered it. “Hello?”

“It’s Ed Rawls. How you doing?”

“I’m not sure,” Stone replied.

“That sounds ominous.”

“I was on the boat lake in Central Park after lunch, and somebody put a round through the stern of my rowboat. I found a.23 slug in the bottom of the boat after we hauled it in.”

“Just sitting there, not in your leg?”

“I figure it must have been fired into the water at the stern, and that took a lot of muzzle velocity off it, otherwise it might have hit one of us.”

“So you were rowing a lady around the Central Park boat lake? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“It doesn’t feel like me, either,” Stone said, “but I was cajoled into it with the promise of better things.”

Rawls chuckled. “Better collect before she forgets.”

“In the meantime, I’ve had a shot across my bows, even if it was into the stern.”

“They’re not going to go on warning you forever,” Ed said. “Maybe it’s time you made a move.”

“Maybe so. You got any suggestions?”

“Well, my source tells me that Macher is spending a few days on St. Clair’s yacht up here,” Rawls said. “I’ve seen the chopper going back and forth from Rockland.”

“You don’t have a rocket-propelled grenade launcher handy, do you?”

“Well, no, but I could probably find you one pretty quick. But that might be more of a statement than you want to make at this point in the game.”

“I guess so.”

“I wouldn’t rule it out for later, though,” Rawls said, “if they hurt somebody. In the meantime there might be another alternative.”

“Tell me.”

Rawls told him.

“I like it,” Stone said. “It’s better than tit for tat, but it doesn’t escalate things to the point where he’ll have to respond with something life-threatening.”

“I’ll take care of it, then,” Rawls said, and the two men hung up.

Marisa had sat down next to him, equally naked. “I seem to recall promising you better things in return for the boat ride.”

She pushed him back onto the bed.

“Do with me as you will,” Stone said.

And she did.

Erik Macher and his guests were just finishing their second bottle of wine with their lunch, when the captain came and motioned for Macher to leave the table.

“What is it?” Macher asked. “We’re having lunch.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but the Coast Guard has just hailed us, and they’re coming aboard for an inspection.”

“What kind of inspection?” Macher demanded. He didn’t know anything about boats or the Coast Guard.

“It will be a routine equipment inspection,” the captain said. “They’ll want to see everything on the required emergency equipment list — life rafts, vests, flares, that sort of thing.”

“Is there any reason why that should disturb our lunch?”

“I just wanted you to be aware of their presence,” the captain said. “They’re coming aboard now from a rigid inflatable. Please excuse me.” He went to receive the boarding party.

A moment later, a young woman in uniform appeared in the dining room. “Good afternoon,” she said. “I’m Lieutenant Graves of the United States Coast Guard. We’ve come aboard to conduct an investigation.”

“An investigation?” Macher said. “I thought this was an equipment check.”

“That, too,” she replied. “Now, I’ll need the names, addresses, dates of birth, and Social Security numbers of everyone aboard, crew and guests, and I’ll need photo IDs for everyone. Please fill out these forms individually.” She distributed documents and pens.

“We’re in the middle of lunch,” Macher said, outraged.

“Not anymore,” she replied. “Please bring the completed forms, one at a time, to the afterdeck. In the meantime, members of my crew will be conducting a search belowdecks for contraband.”

“Contraband? What sort of contraband.”

“We’ll know it when we see it,” she said. “Now please fill out the forms, then come to the afterdeck, one at a time.”

“I’m terribly sorry about this,” Macher said to his guests, “but I suppose we’ll have to permit it.” Everyone began filling out the forms.

Macher brought up the rear of the procession to the afterdeck and handed the lieutenant his completed form. The yacht’s captain was there, watching as she inspected the yacht’s paperwork.

“Mr. Macher, you’re the owner here?”

“The owner, as you will have seen in our registration documents, is a Delaware corporation,” he replied stiffly.

“Do you represent the owner?”

“I am the president and chief executive officer of St. Clair Enterprises, which owns all of the stock in the corporation.”

“Then you are the owner, for the purposes of our investigation.”

“I suppose so.”

“Who, may I ask, occupies the large cabin and sitting room forward in the yacht?”

“That is the owner’s cabin, and I and my companion occupy it.”

“Then,” she said, holding up a zippered plastic bag half-filled with a white powder, “this belongs to you?”

“It does not,” Macher said. “What is it?”

“I suspect it of being cocaine. I would think that there was more in the bag recently.”

“I have never seen that before.”

“Who occupied the cabin before you?”

“That would be Mr. Christian St. Clair, who is deceased. This is the first time I have been aboard the yacht, and I did not bring that powder, whatever it is, aboard.”

“Were you personally acquainted with Mr. St. Clair?”

“I was. I was his principal colleague in the company.”

“And did you know him well enough to suspect that he was an abuser of illegal substances?”

“We were not close personally,” Macher replied.

“Very well, Mr. Macher. We will confiscate the powder and have it analyzed.” She consulted his form. “This is your correct business and personal address?”

“It is.”

“Then we will be in touch following the completion of the lab work. In the meantime, you may wish to consult an attorney with maritime experience.”

“I shall certainly do so,” Macher replied.

The coastguardsmen and their captain returned to their vessel and departed the yacht, and Macher was left to explain to his guests why they had been disturbed.

He was so furious he forgot about his planned afternoon tryst.