Stuart Woods - Hot Mahogany

“The Colonel and I are both very interested in situations where a crime has been committed but gone unpunished,” Kramer said. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll get home and try to sleep for a while in our paint-scented atmosphere.”

Stone shook both their hands. “It was good to meet you. I look forward to seeing your house when it’s back together.”

“And we look forward to showing it to you,” Kramer said. They shook the hands of Holly and Barton, then left.

“I wonder what he meant by that?” Holly asked.

“By what?” Barton asked, innocently.

“That business about both you and he being interested in unpunished crimes.”

“Oh, that was just a little joke,” Barton said. “He often talks that way when we’re together.”

“Barton,” Stone said, “is Ab Kramer the only one of your former men that you see in the ordinary course of things?”

“Yes, he is, I suppose, and I ran into him only because he bought a place here and asked me to advise him on some of the pieces he was collecting. He has a fine collection of American furniture, perhaps one of the dozen best in a private home.”

“A home he doesn’t want Holly and me to see,” Stone said.

“I wonder why,” Holly said.

“Maybe he has a new piece of furniture in his collection, one that he doesn’t want us to see,” Stone replied.

“So,” Barton said, “you think Ab Kramer might be behind the theft of the secretary?”

“It’s cheaper than buying it at auction, isn’t it?”

“Ab is a very wealthy man; I’m sure he could write a check for the piece if it came on the market.”

“Yes, if it came on the market. On the other hand, if he thought that you were never going to sell it… Well, it’s one of only two in private hands, isn’t it? And the other is on the West Coast?”

“You have a point,” Barton said. “Certainly, Ab is accustomed to getting what he wants, one way or another.”

“Are you aware of any circumstances in which he acquired some possession by means other than strictly legal?” Stone asked.

“Well, not for the last twenty-odd years,” Barton replied, “but, of course, I haven’t seen all that much of him since Vietnam.”

“Exactly how much have you seen him?”

“I was invited to dinner once, along with a large table full of people. I went to the house on another occasion to see a piece he’d bought; I think he wanted to know if he’d paid too much for it. He had. That’s about the extent of our recent acquaintance.”

“How did he know you had the secretary?”

Barton looked a little sheepish. “I think I may have mentioned it when I bought it. I was very excited about it, and it was difficult to keep it to myself.”

“Who else did you tell, Barton?”

“No one. No one at all.”

“That’s very interesting,” Stone said. “I wonder how we could get a look inside that house.”

Saturday morning dawned bright and beautiful, with the nip of autumn in the air, and Stone and Holly slept in each other’s arms.

Holly stirred. “Why don’t you stay for the weekend?” she asked. “There’s nothing for you to do in the city, is there?”

“Except find Barton’s secretary,” Stone muttered.

“You might be more likely to find it here,” she said.

Stone opened an eye. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

“Well, one of the things about attending classes at the Farm is that they turn you into a pretty good cat burglar.” The Farm was the CIA’s training facility.

“Yeah, but they yanked you out after only a few weeks and put you to work.”

“That’s true, but I’ve been going back a couple of days a week to complete my training. Lance says it will look better on my record when promotion time comes.”

“So what have they taught you at the Farm?”

“Oh, lock picking, safecracking, the foiling of alarm systems, silent killing – all sorts of good stuff. Oh, and I can kill you with my thumb.”

“Please don’t. Have you killed anybody?”

“Not yet, but you don’t want to cross me.”

Stone kissed her. “What can I do to keep you sweet?”

“You know what,” she breathed in his ear.

He knew, and he did it.

After a long lunch at the Mayflower Inn, they called Barton and went back to his house. He took them into the study.

“We want to get into Abner Kramer’s house,” Holly said.

“Correction,” Stone said. “ She wants to get into Kramer’s house.”

“I think that’s a terrible idea,” Barton said.

“How else are we going to know if he has your secretary?” Holly asked.

“I don’t think Ab has it,” Barton replied.

“Have you got a better candidate?” Stone asked. “You’ve said he’s the only person you told about it. You’ve also said that, when he wants something, he gets it, and the implication was that he doesn’t care how.”

“He wouldn’t steal from me ,” Barton said. “After all, I gave him the basis of the fortune he’s made.”

“And you cut him and the others out of the deal on the Saint-Gaudens double eagle,” Stone pointed out. “Ab could be nursing a grudge, and how better to get back at you than to take your most prized possession?”

“We just want to look around,” Holly said.

Stone pointed at Holly. “ She just wants to look around.”

“Oh, yeah?” Holly said. “What do you want to do, hold my coat?”

“I’d be happy to hold your coat,” Stone said.

“Holly,” Barton said in a fatherly tone, “why do you think you can even get inside the place? Ab, no doubt, has state-of-the-art security in place.”

“I’ve been trained by the best to breach state-of-the-art security,” Holly said. “All I need is a few tools that I can buy at the local hardware store.”

“Come on, Barton,” Stone said, “let her at least case the joint.”

“Is there some vantage point from which we could take a look at the estate from a distance?” Holly asked.

“As a matter of fact, there is,” Barton replied.

They followed Barton’s directions, turning off the highway and onto a dirt track that wound for miles through the woods. Twice they had to get out of the car and move fallen tree limbs aside in order to pass. Finally they got out of the car, and Barton, carrying a binocular case, led them a few yards into the trees.

The hillside fell away, and they found themselves looking across a small lake at the back of a large house, perhaps half a mile away. A barn and some outbuildings stood to one side, enclosed by a stone wall.

Barton took his binoculars from the case and handed them to Holly. “Here you go. They’re fifteen power at full zoom, so you’ll need to brace against a tree to hold them steady.”

Holly braced herself and synchronized the two eyepieces. “Wow,” she said softly. “These things are great.”

“Let me take a look,” Stone said. He received the binoculars and braced against a tree. “ ‘Wow’ is right,” he said. “I can see a picture on a wall, right through a window.”

“Do you see a large mahogany secretary?” Barton asked.

“Sorry, no.”

Holly tugged at his sleeve and demanded the binoculars back. “He wasn’t lying about the painters,” she said. “I can see a corner of a van behind the stone wall, and a man in white coveralls just came and took a bucket out of it and went back into the house.”

“There’s got to be a caretaker,” Stone said.

“There is,” Barton replied. “I know the fellow. He would probably live in the little house you can see a part of behind the barn.”

“So when the painters leave, there’ll still be somebody there.”