Double Jeopardy (Stone Barrington #57)(30)

“Only if you commit a federal crime while wearing it,” Lance said. “I suppose.”

“Who was the federal judge who appointed us?” Stone asked.

“It’s all in your commissioning document, in the envelope,” Lance replied. “She’s an old friend. Of the Agency.”

Stone took this as a denial that Lance had had, sometime in the past, carnal knowledge of a woman who, later, became a federal judge.

“Well, now,” Lance said, “I suppose there is nothing impeding your questioning the young lady in question. I’ve texted you her contact information, and I’ll be dying to know what she has to tell you.”

“I suppose,” Stone said, “that being United States Marshals doesn’t prevent us questioning her electronically, as on the telephone?”

“I suppose,” Lance said. “That would obviate a trip to New Haven, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” Stone agreed.

“If you would conduct this questioning by speakerphone, it would save you the necessity of relating to me what she said, or even of taking notes. Though a recording couldn’t hurt.”

“Let’s make use of the cone of silence, shall we?” Stone said, leading the way to Dick Stone’s little office. The three of them entered the office, followed by Lance, Primmy, and Viv, who arranged themselves while Stone dialed the number he had been given.





27

Stone called the number, and the phone was answered by a young woman.

“May I speak with Carly Riggs, please?”

“Who’s calling?”

“This is United States Marshal Stone Barrington,” he replied, “and my partner, Dino Bacchetti.”

“You’re from the press, aren’t you?”

“I assure you, we are not. We are both duly appointed marshals.”

“Do you think I’m stupid? I’m a law student, nearly a graduate, and every law student knows that Dino Bacchetti is the police commissioner of New York City.”

“Would you like for Marshal Bacchetti to confirm his identity personally?”

“Yes.”

Stone handed the phone to Dino.

“This is Dino Bacchetti. To whom am I speaking?”

“You’re Dino Bacchetti, who I heard speak at Yale Law last semester, and you don’t even know who you are calling?”

Stone handed Dino the paper with the woman’s name.

“You are Carly Riggs?”

“I am. Why did it take you two guesses?”

“He’s a little slow,” Stone said.

“And you, you are supposed to be the buddy and former cop partner of Dino Bacchetti, the attorney?”

“That is correct. Also, a U.S. Marshal, duly appointed by a federal judge.”

“And what is the name of the judge?”

Stone looked at Lance, eyebrows up.

“Elizabeth Prior,” Lance said.

“And who was that speaking just now?”

“That was Lance Cabot,” Stone said.

“Oh, the director of the Central Intelligence Agency? You must think I’m a complete fool.”

“Your case has national security implications,” Stone lied.

“Oh? How is that?”

“Are you aware that your missing companion, Tim Scott, is an FBI agent?”

“What?”

“He wasn’t supposed to tell you that,” Stone said.

“Now you expect me to believe that I could be in class with the guy for a year, a guy I had been sleeping with, without finding that out?”

“As I said, he was not allowed to tell you.”

“Why are we speaking of Tim in the past tense? Is he dead?”

“That is the assumption on which we are proceeding with this investigation.”

“Do you have any evidence that he is dead?” she asked.

“Do you have any evidence that he is alive?” Stone asked quickly.

“Well . . .”

“We are proceeding on your testimony to a police officer that you were both kidnapped and were together in a sinking boat, from which his body has not yet been recovered. Though people are trying, as we speak.”

“All right,” she said. “Let’s begin again, this time on the assumption that you three are who you say you are and not drunken practical jokers.”

“I assure you that we are who we say we are, and that there are no drinking or practical jokes involved.”

“All right, what do you want?”

“We believe that your case may be connected to other cases on which we are working, and we would like to hear your personal account of what happened to you from the time you left your class until you were pulled from the water.”

“I would feel more comfortable if I could see your faces,” she said.

“We are not in New Haven but in another state.”

“We could accomplish that by using Zoom. That way, we will be able to see each other.”

There ensued a quarter of an hour’s discussion on how to use the app, followed by explicit instructions. Finally, everyone could see everyone.

“All right,” Carly said. “I recognize Commissioner Bacchetti from his lecture and Mr. Cabot from newspaper photos, and you, Mr. Barrington, from a photo taken of you waltzing with the president of the United States. But who are the two women in the room?”