both lists combined, but they had a lot of casualties, so by the end of the war the list was cut in half. Now tell me what this is about.”
“All right, but you can’t tell Lance about it.”
“Why not?”
“It involves something about his brother he’d probably rather not know.”
“Okay, but if he orders me, I’ll have to tell him.”
“I don’t think he’ll order you to tell him.” Stone told everything, beginning with the disappearance of the mahogany secretary and continuing through the story of the theft near the end of the war.
“What did they steal?” Holly asked.
“I don’t know, but it must have been fairly easily transported and easy to dispose of after they got it back to the States. And it must have been substantial in value, as it seems to have funded the lives of the participants when they became civilians again.”
“Makes sense.”
Stone picked up the first folder. “My guess is that the other participants are likely to have come from Sergeant Cantor’s squad, since he would have been closer to his men and known them better than he would as a platoon or company commander.” He opened the folder.
“He had five men in his squad,” she said, “but two of them were fatalities before the end of the war.”
“One of them was probably murdered by someone else in the squad,” Stone said, “when he was unhappy with the way the loot was divided.”
“Both fatalities occurred in ’Nam and are listed as KIA,” Holly said.
“I guess it’s easier to shoot somebody when your outfit is being shot at.”
“Right, and what you’ve got there are the service records of the remaining three original squad members and Cantor. I didn’t think you’d be interested in the replacements.”
“Probably not,” Stone said, looking through the folders. “He would have trusted the original guys more.” He glanced through the records. “Two of these guys were from New York: one from Queens, one from the Bronx. Bob Cantor is from Brooklyn. Would it be unusual for three of a squad to be from the same city?”
“It’s the luck of the draw, so it’s probably a coincidence,” Holly said.
“I think it makes sense to start with the two other New Yorkers,” Stone said. “We’ve got their addresses here.”
Holly shook her head. “Those are probably not current; they were the addresses when they enlisted. But there should be next of kin listed with an address. They could still be alive.”
“These are guys in their fifties,” Stone said.
“Lots of people in their fifties still have living parents.”
Stone picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Let’s see.” He put the phone down again. “Out of service.” He tried the other one.
“Hello?” A small child.
“Hi,” Stone said, “can I speak with your daddy?”
The kid dropped the phone like a rock, and Stone could hear him screaming for his father.
“Hello?” a male voice said. “Who do you want?” The voice was heavily Spanish-accented.
Stone hung up. “Hispanic. Not our guy. The Pentagon wouldn’t have current addresses?”
“Not likely, but the Veterans Administration might, especially if either guy has used his veterans’ benefits. I can do a computer search but not now.” She leaned over and kissed him hotly.
“I guess it can wait until tomorrow,” Stone managed to say.
13
Stone woke the following morning with a warm girl heating his rib cage. He was ravenously hungry, and it occurred to him that they, in their enthusiasm, had never gotten around to dinner.
“I’m not awake,” Holly whispered.
“Do you want breakfast?”
“Maybe.”
Stone put on some shorts, went downstairs, grilled bacon and scrambled eggs. When he was almost done he whistled as loudly as he could, which was very loud.
A minute and a half later Holly padded down the stairs and walked into the kitchen, very naked.
“Good morning,” he said. “Did you forget something?”
She stared at him blankly. “What?”
“Never mind, have a seat. I’m not sure I have a big enough napkin for you, though.”
Holly sat down and began eating greedily. “Why am I so hungry?”
“Because we skipped dinner last night.”
“Why did…? Oh.”
“Yes, oh. It was more fun than dinner, anyway.”
“Well, you can take me out to dinner tonight.”
“If I’m still here tonight.”
“Lance promised me two nights with you to get me to come up here.”
“Lance has given me two jobs, and I might not be able to get both of them done if I’m sleeping with you.”
“I’m a job?”
“Only in a manner of speaking. He used your presence to lure me up here and check on Barton.”
“What’s Barton like?”
“A ringer for Lance but older. It’s like they’re twins who were born a few years apart.”
“But is he
“Nobody is like Lance. Barton is more talkative, at least with me. He’ll like you, though, especially if you go dressed like that.”
She giggled.
“Lance says he likes the ladies.”
“He didn’t mention that to me.”
They finished breakfast, then Holly left and returned with her laptop. “Give me the names of the two men from Cantor’s squad who interested you.”
Stone picked up the files. “Abner Luke Kramer and Charles Larry Crow.” He gave her their service numbers.
She went to the V.A. website and through a few pages, typing rapidly. “Here we go,” she said. “Private Kramer spent four years at NYU on the GI bill, got a degree in business administration, then went to Wharton for an MBA. Corporal Crow was treated for a couple of months at a V.A. hospital on Long Island, then got himself a V.A. mortgage.”
“Any addresses?”
“One for each: Kramer, on West Tenth Street, in Manhattan; Crow, in the Bronx.”
Stone wrote down both addresses and phone numbers.
“You going to call?”
“Might be better if I just show up and surprise them.”
Holly continued typing. “Google knows about Kramer,” she said. “He was an executive vice president at Goldman Sachs in New York until four years ago, but he left to start his own company, A. L. Kramer, which has done very well, apparently. Here’s a picture.” She turned the laptop so he could see it.
“Distinguished looking,” Stone said. “What about Crow?”
Holly tapped more keys. “He started a real estate business, buying dilapidated town houses and reselling them. That’s it.”
“Well, it’s a start, I guess. Want to go meet Barton Cabot?”
“Sure, but I need a shower.”
“Me, too.”
