Shoot First(Stone Barrington #45)(4)

Dino and Viv were up and dressed when Stone and Meg walked in, and he made the introductions. They had a glass of iced tea while Viv made lunch, with the reluctant assistance of Dino.

“How come you’re back so early?” Dino asked.

Stone told him what had happened, then Viv put him back to work.

Stone and Meg sat down on a sofa. “The detectives asked me what city you live in, and I didn’t know,” he said to her.

“I lived in San Mateo until I sold the company, then I bought a place in San Francisco. I’m thinking of buying an apartment or a house in New York, as well, since I get there on business a lot. Arthur tells me you’re an attorney.”

“That’s right.”

“And you serve on some boards?”

“Beats working,” Stone said.

“I’m doing some of that, too, though I’m not sure why they think a software geek would be qualified.”

“Congratulations on the sale of your company,” Stone said. “I voted for the Steele participation in the buyout. We were impressed with both your achievement and your bargaining skills.”

“I think that’s why Arthur brought me onto the board.”

“That and the fact that he wants to acquire other tech companies, and he knows little about them.” Stone’s cell rang. “Excuse me, it’s the cops. Hello, Harry.”

“Stone, can I come see you for a few minutes?”

“Sure. I gave you the address—it’s the first driveway on the right.”

“Got it. Be there in five.”



* * *



—

HE GAVE HARRY and Moe iced tea and sat them down.

“Your instincts were good,” Harry said. “A dozen flights have left Key West International since the events of this morning, and we satisfied ourselves that most of their occupants were straight-up tourists. There was one couple, though, who didn’t quite ring true, but we couldn’t hold them without more evidence. He was carrying a credit card receipt from a local B&B, and we had a look around there and came up with a single .223 round. He was careless. His name is Anthony Carew, and he and his wife are on a plane to LaGuardia. I thought you might know somebody on the NYPD that I could call and have meet them.”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Stone said. “He’s over there making a sandwich.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “Dino, have you got a minute?”

Dino wiped his hands, came over, and sat down.

“These are Detectives Harry Kaufelt and Moe Cramer, KWPD. They need your help. Gentlemen, this is Dino Bacchetti, who is the police commissioner of New York City. I think he’s the guy you want to speak to.”

“What’s up?” Dino asked.

“We have suspects on an airplane right now, due at LaGuardia in about an hour. Could you have them picked up and held until we get there?”

“Sure,” Dino said. “Descriptions?”

“Male, mid-forties, six feet, two hundred pounds, bald, wearing a flowered shirt over a potbelly, and Bermuda shorts. Female, mid-thirties, five-five, and a hundred and twenty pounds. Names—Anthony and Sheila Carew, both carrying backpacks for luggage. Suspicion of attempted murder. We can get there on a flight leaving in an hour.”

Dino made the call and gave the orders. “What time will they arrive in New York?”

“Three o’clock, Jet Blue flight.”

“And you?”

“Six o’clock.”

“I’ll have you met and driven. You’re going to need an extradition warrant.”

“That’s in the works. Somebody will meet us at the Key West airport with the warrant.”

“Anything else I can do for you?”

“I can’t think of a thing, Commissioner. Thanks very much for your help.”

“Anytime,” Dino said. Everybody shook hands and they left.

“Well,” Meg said, “that’s more policemen than I’ve ever seen in one day.”

“By the way,” Stone said, “I’ve told the cops I think they were aiming at one of us—you, me, or Arthur—and shot Al Harris by accident. Can you think of anybody who harbors hard feelings toward you? Hard enough to hire a killer to go after you?”

To Stone’s surprise, she didn’t dismiss the idea out of hand, but thought about it. Finally, she said, “I had a partner who owned ten percent of the business. He wasn’t happy with ten percent of the sale price, figured I owed him more, in spite of an airtight contract that covered just such a sale.”

“What were his grounds for believing that?”

“He seemed to think that I’d planned the whole thing from the start—suck him dry of his tech knowledge, then stiff him in the deal.”

“Did you do that?”

“I can see how he might believe it, but that wasn’t the way it was. He was important to the effort for a while, spent six years working on the product line but faded as a factor the last couple of years. He walked away with a hundred and fifty million for his trouble. He was also paid nearly a million dollars a year for his work. I felt he was very well compensated in the sale and didn’t deserve more, but he filed a patent suit anyway, which got thrown out of court. He has a paranoid side to him, and he wasn’t easy to get along with.”