Стюарт Вудс - Standup Guy

“Kidnapping rage?” Stone suggested.

Both Sparks and Dino laughed heartily.

“You got an APB out on her?” Dino asked, when he had recovered himself.

“Yeah, but we’re playing that tune softly: we’re seeking her for information about a possible crime.”

“That’s polite,” Dino said.

“We thought so. I’d like to hear her story, before we paint her as an ax-wielding, backstabbing homicidal maniac.”

“Very restrained,” Dino said. “Stone? You still there?”

“I’m thinking,” Stone said.

“Good idea,” Dino replied.

“Was there a cell phone in the house?”

“No,” Dan said, “but there was one in the corpse’s pocket.”

“Who did it belong to?”

Short silence. “Good question. I’ll have to check.”

“I’d really like to know.”

“Hang on.” He put them on hold.

“This doesn’t sound good,” Dino said.

“Tell me about it.”

“Maybe my guys should talk to Hank before Dan’s do.”

“It couldn’t hurt.”

Dan came back on the line. “I was wrong,” he said. “There were two cell phones—one his, one hers.”

“So she wasn’t able to call for help,” Stone said. He wanted to make that point.

“Well,” Dan said, “I can see how a lot of things could happen in a situation like hers. A lot of people would panic in the circumstances, and rage can be a product of panic. My money’s on you in court, Stone.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“She’s going to need a lot better lawyer than Stone,” Dino said.

“From what I’m hearing, she could do a lot worse,” Dan replied.

“Thank you for that vote of confidence,” Stone said.

“I’m just saying a jury might be very sympathetic to her plight.”

“But not to her skill with tools,” Dino said. “And there’s the cleanup to consider, and the fact that she didn’t confide in Stone.” He paused. “Did she, Stone?”

“She did not.”

“You want a couple of hours to feel her out?” Dino asked.

“That won’t be much fun.”

“Not as much fun as feeling her up, I’ll grant you.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass, Dino.”

“I don’t have to send out the detectives just yet.”

“I’ll get back to you,” Stone said, and he hung up.

44

Stone thought about it for a few minutes before he made the call. He tried the office number and asked for Hank.

Another woman came on the line. “Who’s calling?”

“Stone Barrington. I’m a friend of Hank’s.”

“She called in sick some time back. I haven’t heard from her, and her cell phone went straight to voice mail.”

“I see. Thanks for your help.” He hung up and called Hank’s home number. It rang four times, then went to voice mail. “It’s Stone. We need to talk right away, before you talk to anybody else.” He left his office number, though he knew she had it.

Half an hour later, Hank called back. “Hi, I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch.”

“Are you ill?”

“Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m just a little shaken up, and I’m not thinking very clearly.”

“Are you at home?”

“Yes. I was in the shower when you called earlier. I just saw the flashing light on the phone. Can we get together? I need to talk with you.”

“Then you’d better talk to me now, because soon you’ll be talking to the police, and it won’t be fun.”

“I don’t mind talking to them, I’m the victim, remember? Not a perp, to put it in yours and Dino’s graceful and expressive language.”

“You’d better be prepared to convince the police of that, or not talk to them at all.”

“Are you giving me legal advice?”

“I will, if you like, on the basis of a client-attorney relationship.”

“Should I hire you?”

“You should hire somebody. Do you know any very good attorneys?”

“I don’t know any attorneys at all, except for you.”

“I think it would be a good idea for you to be represented by someone else, in the circumstances.”

“What circumstances?”

“An attorney who might be more sympathetic to your plight.”

“What plight? What are you talking about, Stone?”

“All right, let me ask you one question—as an attorney.”

“Okay.”

“Where’s the head?”

“The head of what?”

“The head of Bats Buono.”

“As far as I know, he’s self-employed.”

He thought she seemed perfectly calm, maybe a little exasperated with him.

“I’m talking about the head that used to rest on his shoulders.”

“You’re saying that Onofrio has lost his head? Metaphorically?”

“Not metaphorically—actually.”

“Stone, you’re not making any sense.”

If this is a performance, he thought, it’s a good one .

“Are you sitting down?”

“No, should I be?”

“Yes. The Connecticut State Police sent a crime-scene team to the lake cottage. They found traces of blood in the kitchen sink.”

“And what conclusion did they draw from that?”

“That somebody did some bleeding.”

“I didn’t, I’m wound-free.”

“Did Bats cut himself shaving?”

“Not that I noticed. What aren’t you telling me, Stone?”

“They searched the property and found a corpse in the woods.”

She gave a little gasp. “Onofrio’s?”

“It was carrying his wallet and two cell phones, yours and his.”

“He took it away from me. He’s actually dead?”

“Yes, and his head is missing.”

“Oh, shit!”

“Well, yes. His car was missing, too, and there were tire tracks leading into the lake. A dive team is on the way there now to raise it.”

“And you’re saying the police think I had something to do with his death?”

“They’re considering it. Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“Look, he was alive when he drove away from the house. That was the last I saw of him, and he hasn’t called.”

“Well, he wouldn’t, would he?”

“Now that you mention it, I guess not. Am I really a suspect?”

“I think they would probably describe you as ‘a person of interest’ in the case, but that’s only one bad answer from ‘defendant,’ so when they come calling, tell them the truth.”

“I am telling the truth. I always tell the truth.”

“They’re going to ask you about the protection order you took out against Buono.”

“Now, look, Stone . . .”

“Stop right there. Consider your answer.”

She was quiet for a moment. “All right,” she said finally, “I almost took out the order, but I didn’t actually do it.”

“Then why did you lie about it? Don’t you know there are court records of protection orders?”

“I was on the point of doing it, but he suddenly stopped calling, so I waited for a couple of days, and when he didn’t call again, I didn’t take out the order.”

“All right, I’ll accept that answer.”

“That’s very good of you,” she said, and there was acid in her voice. “You checked up on me, did you? Or Dino?”

“Yes. Do you blame me?”

“I apologize for lying to you.”

“Thank you. The good news is, the cops, generally speaking, don’t know about your lie. The bad news is, Dino does.”

“And he would rat me out about that?”

“I don’t know. At least you haven’t lied directly to a cop, only to me. Keep it that way.”

“All right. Any other advice?”

“Do you want me to find a lawyer for you?”

“I thought you would represent me.”

“That is not in your best interests, given our personal history, however short. I say again, I think you need to be represented by another attorney.”