desk.
“No coins,” he said.
“Tell me what’s there.”
“Small wallet, ninety-four dollars, money clip, handkerchief, comb, Chapstick, keys, Kleenex.”
“It’s got to be there. Take a minute and go through everything again, especially the wallet.”
Stone removed everything from the wallet and inspected it carefully. Nothing. He went through the money. Nothing. Nothing anywhere. He sneezed.
“Bless you,” he heard Lance say.
“Just a minute.” He picked up the Kleenex pack, got one out and blew his nose. “Hang on,” he said. He took all the Kleenex out of the pack, and left inside the plastic was a small disc. “Got it,” he said. “It was in the pack of Kleenex.”
“Okay, are you in the little office?”
“No.”
“Get in there, and take the disc with you.”
Stone unlocked the door and went inside again, taking the phone with him. “Okay, I’m in.”
“Look at the bottom of the computer; there’s a little panel.”
Stone looked at the black computer tower. “Yes, I see it.”
“Push on the panel.”
Stone did so, and out slid a little tray that had an indentation the size of the disc. “Okay, do I put the disc in the tray?”
“Yes, smooth side down.”
There were four little bumps on one side, so Stone put the disk, bumps up, Into the tray and closed it. “Done.”
“Now turn on the computer and the monitor. There’s a button at the top of the tower, next to the floppy-disk drive, and another on the monitor.”
Stone turned them both on. “Booting up.”
“Wait a minute, and you’ll get a prompt at the top of the screen.”
Stone waited, and the prompt appeared. “It’s there.”
“Type in, all caps, TELOG.”
Stone typed it in, and instantly a list of names and phone numbers appeared. “I have a telephone log.”
“Tell me what the top line says.”
“It says, ”Cell“ and gives a number.” He read the number to Lance.
“Thank you,” Lance said. “Now switch off the monitor and the computer, remove the disk and put it in Dick’s safe. It will be collected.”
“Okay. Now what?”
“Now I’ll run down the phone number and find out what the hell is going on. I’ll get back to you, maybe today, maybe not. Bye-bye.” Lance hung up.
“Spooky,” Stone said.
Chapter 16
THE PHONE RANG, and Stone picked it up. “Hello?”
“It’s Rawls,” a gruff voice drawled.
“Good morning.”
“You free for lunch? I’d like you to meet some people.”
“Yes.”
“Noon at the yacht club?”
“Good.”
“See you then.” Rawls hung up.
The phone rang again. “Hello?”
“It’s Lance.”
“That was fast.”
“I checked with the London station;
“A little late,” Stone replied.
“Obviously, Dick’s contact hadn’t heard about his death.”
“Is that it, trouble is coming?”
“What was the solid information?”
“The man who called was a paid source of Dick’s; you’d call him a snitch. He was at a card game last week in East Germany when he overheard two players, Russians, discussing a revenge hit on a highly placed American. The snitch is Hungarian, but he speaks Russian.”
“Then why the hell didn’t he call Dick last week, when it might have done some good?”
“He was in jail; got into an accident while driving home from the card game, drunk.”
“What was the revenge for?”
“Apparently the Agency was responsible for the breakup of a large drug ring in which the two Russians had a stake. The hit was meant to be a warning to the London station.”
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Stone said. “They would send a hit man from Eastern Europe to a small island in Penobscot Bay just to send a message to London?”
“I know it’s a stretch, but crime is worldwide these days; the whole thing could have been arranged with a single phone call or e-mail. Anyway, we know the result.”
“I’m having lunch with Ed Rawls and some friends of his,” Stone said. “Is there any reason to think these same people would have an interest in Rawls?”
“None that I know of. You can tell him about this; it might set his mind at ease. By the way, are you armed?”
“No.”
“Does Dick have any guns in the house?”
“Well, he had the Keltec, but the state police have still got that. Why do I need to be armed?”
“I’m not certain that you do, but I have some concerns.”
“Please tell me about your concerns.”
“When the man called and you answered, he said, ”Is this Stone?,“ and you replied, ”Yes,“ because that’s your name, too. So he thought he was talking to Dick, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“This source is classed as unreliable, so he may be working both sides of the street. He may have called to make sure Dick was dead.”
“Come on, Lance. Whoever killed Dick knows that he’s dead.”
“Try and follow me: The shooter would have reported back to whoever sent him that Dick was dead, and it may very well be that the person who sent the shooter also killed him, for security reasons. The phone call could have simply been a check to see if the shooter was lying.”
“I suppose that makes a perverted kind of sense,” Stone said.
“These people would not casually kill a senior officer of the CIA; it would have been carefully planned, with cutouts at every level, to protect those who ordered the killing. Shooting the shooter is a very good cutout. If caught, he might give up the people who hired him to save his own neck.”
“Well, yes, I’ve had some experience with that.”
“Anyway, when you spoke to the guy this morning, that may have indicated to these people that the shooter
