Shoot First(Stone Barrington #45)(73)
“We’re going to be fine on fuel,” he said to Meg.
“Is there any way Owaki can find out where we’re going?”
“Yes, but we’ll be in Santa Maria, refueled, and off again before he could give chase.”
“What about St. John’s? Could he have us met there?”
“Half an hour out of St. John’s I’ll change our destination to Gander. We’ll be in and out of there in half an hour, and he wouldn’t dare try to pull anything at Teterboro. The police would be all over him. Fred and the Strategic Services people will meet us there, and escort us to the house.”
“Good. My meeting with the co-op board is tomorrow morning.”
* * *
—
THEY ROLLED into Stone’s garage at five PM, tired and happy to be home. Bob was beside himself with joy to have Stone back, and Joan was pretty happy, too.
“I hear you had some aggravation across the pond,” she said. “Don’t worry, nobody’s tried to burn down this house, yet.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Dino called.”
“Call him back and tell him we’re still expecting him and Viv for dinner, and let Helene know they’re coming.”
Joan went to her work.
Stone pulled the drapes in the master bedroom and achieved something like darkness. They fell asleep without further ado—unusual, because they had become accustomed to further ado.
* * *
—
STONE HAD been asleep for an hour when the phone rang. Automatically, he picked up. “What?”
“It’s Dino. I thought you’d like to know that Owaki’s Gulfstream 650 landed at Teterboro about seven PM, and a squadron of customs people greeted them. They took the airplane apart, and in the rear luggage compartment, under the floor panels, they found half a dozen Kalashnikovs and a dozen handguns, plus ammo. They took Owaki in.”
“How long before he’s out?”
“That depends on you.”
“On me?”
“Yeah, there’ll be a bail hearing at eleven tomorrow morning at the federal courthouse, and we need you to testify to your knowledge of Owaki. If customs and the FBI can get the judge to deny bail, he’ll spend the next few months on Rikers Island.”
“I think that might be character-building for him,” Stone said.
“In the big courtroom. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t.” He hung up and went back to sleep.
* * *
—
EARLY THE FOLLOWING MORNING he felt a hand creeping up his thigh. He glanced at the bedside clock: 9:30. “Hold it right there, missy,” he said. “I’m due in federal court at eleven, so if you want to come, get dressed quickly.” He freed himself, leaped out of bed, and thence into a shower. By ten-fifteen, munching on a muffin, he was in the rear seat of the Bentley with Meg and headed downtown.
At a quarter to eleven his phone rang.
“It’s Dino. Where the fuck are you?”
“Enjoying the traffic in your fine city. Why didn’t you give me a motorcycle escort?”
“Get your ass here, pronto!”
56
Stone got out of the Bentley, leaving Fred at the wheel and Meg, who didn’t want to be present in the courtroom, in the rear seat. He walked into the courtroom at the stroke of eleven on the big clock over the bench. Dino glared at him from the front row of spectator seats and waved him forward.
Stone took a seat. He saw Owaki’s back ahead of him, next to a silver-haired attorney in a ten-thousand-dollar suit.
“It’s about fucking time,” Dino growled under his breath.
“What are you doing here anyway?” Stone asked. “You’re not a fed.”
“Once in a while I just like to enjoy myself, you know?”
The bailiff called for all to rise, and the judge entered the courtroom and sat down. “Call the first case,” she said, and the clerk yelled, “Bail hearing for one Selwyn Owakow.”
Stone suppressed a laugh, and the judge looked at him oddly. Stone had known her for a long time, but not for some years. He gave her a slight nod.
She turned toward the federal prosecutor. “Counsel?”
The prosecutor stood. “Your Honor, the defendant, one Selwyn Owaki—I believe I have the name right—last night arrived at Teterboro Airport in New Jersey aboard a Gulfstream 650, an aircraft valued at something on the order of sixty million dollars, upon which a search warrant, signed by Your Honor, was served by the United States Customs Service. Their search was fruitful, producing some two dozen illegal weapons, among them Russian automatic assault weapons. The defendant is an infamous weapons dealer, and extremely wealthy. He owns three jet aircraft with intercontinental range, the Gulfstream having a range of more than eight thousand nautical miles, and he has large quantities of cash in banks around the world. He has two passports, and thus is a monumental candidate for risk of flight, as well as being of poor character. We request that he be held without bail until trial.”
“Do you have any witnesses to call on the question of risk of flight or character?”
“Indeed I do, Judge. I call Mr. Stone Barrington, who is a member of the New York State Bar and who has experience of Mr. Owaki’s character and conduct.”