Turbulence (Stone Barrington #46)(58)

“I’ve heard that name somewhere.”

“Lance says it’s a group of Russian oligarchs.”

“Ah, yes.”

“Apparently, the package we saw is still there but will be departing after the dinner. He wants us to find out whether it’s still on the chopper or in another aircraft.”

“I can’t see them shooting it down over the English countryside, or even in the Channel,” she said.

“Then he must have another plan.”

“Lance always has another plan,” she replied.

Stone got out his own iPhone and checked for any messages that had come in while he was using Lance’s phone. There were a couple from Joan, but he had talked to her already; there was one from his insurance client, Arthur Steele, probably about his former Bentley; and there were two from the dockmaster at the Key West Yacht Club, both from very early that morning. He called the dockmaster first.

“Hello?”

“John, it’s Stone Barrington. I’ve been in the air, and I just got your message. What’s up?”

“It’s what’s down, I’m afraid,” John said.

“Come again?”

“Your boat sank in her berth, early this morning, according to the neighbors. There are cops and divers all over the place.”

“Cops?”

“From what I can gather from a quiet word with one of the divers, there was a bomb stuck to her bottom, set off by a timer.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“No, the boats on either side suffered some light damage to their topsides—nothing that would sink them—but there was no one aboard. Cal Waters and his wife were sleeping aboard their boat around the corner. They were planning to get an early start for some fishing this morning. They heard the noise, figured out what had happened, and called the cops and the fire department.”

“What’s your assessment of the damage?”

“Looks like your insurance company is going to buy you a new boat.”

“I’ve already had a call from my insurer, but I haven’t returned it yet.”

“I think you can safely tell him that she’s been totaled; there’s no hope of repairing her.”

“Who can we get to do the salvage? I know you’ll want it cleared out as soon as possible.”

“Your insurance company will pick somebody. Anything you can do to hurry them would be appreciated.”

“Please tell the other boat owners that I will cover their repairs, so they can proceed immediately. I’ll be in touch,” Stone said, then hung up. He called Arthur Steele.

“Good afternoon, Stone,” Arthur said.

“I’ve been flying back from Key West,” Stone said. “I just heard the news.”

“Stone, you are becoming an undesirable client. I’m going to have to take this to the board.”

“You might tell them, Arthur, that neither the boat nor the car was lost as a result of any action of mine. I’m just as insurable now as I was before these incidents.”

“We’ll see.”

“The yacht club would like salvage to begin at the earliest possible moment, Arthur.”

“I expect our salvage department has someone down there. I’ll do what I can to expedite it. You’ll need to come in and sign some claims forms.”

“Can you send them to my office, Arthur? I’m leaving the country tomorrow for a few days.”

“Oh, all right. Joan can notarize them.”

“Thank you, Arthur, and please express my regrets to the board.”

Steele hung up without further comment.

“My boat was sunk last night,” he said to Kelly. “Bombed.”

She blinked. “As I recall, you mentioned to Joe Box that we were staying on the boat.”

“Well, I’m glad he didn’t know we were at the house.”

Stone’s phone rang again. “Hello?”

“Stone, it’s John at the yacht club.”

“Yes, John?”

“I talked with the divers again. They say the explosive was placed forward in the boat, under the master cabin—specifically, under your bed. I thought you’d like to know.”





46



BACK AT THE HOUSE, Bob was reunited with Joan, and they were both very happy. Stone went through his mail and messages, then buzzed Joan.

“Yes, boss?”

“Please get me Phil Bennett, the sales director at Hinckley Yachts in Maine; try his cell first.”

A moment later, she buzzed him. “Phil Bennett on one.”

Stone picked up the phone. “Hi, Phil.”

“Hi, Stone, how are things?”

“Strained and rushed; I’d like to order a new boat.”

“Love to sell you one. What would you like?”

“You know the 43 I bought from the lady in Key West?”

“Intimately.”

“I’d like another just like it, same equipment.”

A brief silence. “I’m confused, Stone.”

“The boat came to grief; I don’t have time to talk about it now, but complete grief.”

“Ah, so this is a replacement.”