Стюарт Вудс - Foul Play

“I don’t know,” the woman said, “but I can call the harbormaster and find out. Why do you want to know?”

“Because a Hinckley 43 is a nice boat — I own one — but it’s not nice enough to massage the ego of the kind of person we’re dealing with. It could, however, be a tender to a very large yacht.”

“A forty-three-foot tender?” Shep said.

“If your yacht is one hundred fifty feet, that would make perfect sense,” Stone said. “You’d sometimes have a lot of guests, and there would be a lot of work for a boat of forty-three feet to do. They might even have a pair. What color was the hull of the Hinckley?”

“Dark — blue or black.”

The security agent excused herself, then came back after a few minutes. “A two-hundred-footer came in yesterday morning,” she said. “She was too big for the available space in the marina, so she’s anchored across the harbor. Her name is Nostrovia , which is an English misspelling of a Russian name I can’t even spell: it’s a toast — literally, ‘Let’s get drunk.’ ”

“Ah,” Stone said.

“Oh, and she has two tenders, both Hinckley 43s, dark blue.”

“Well,” Dino said. “Now we know who we’re dealing with.”

“What’s the length of Breeze , Stone?” Shep asked.

“One hundred twenty-five feet,” Stone replied.

“Let’s sink the Russian,” Dino said, and everybody laughed.

“You’d need a torpedo or two, Dino,” Stone said, “and a submarine to fire them from.”

“It was just a thought,” Dino said.

Everybody was tired, and they went to bed early. Stone was lying in bed, on the edge of sleep, when there was a soft knock at his door. “Yes?”

The door opened, Phil walked into the room, clad in what Stone suspected was only a terry robe, and sat on the edge of his bed. “You’re not asleep yet,” she said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Stone sat up. “And whose idea was that?”

“Mine,” she said. “Shep is a heavy sleeper, and I’m not. Have I offended you?”

“Not in the least,” Stone said, “but together, we might offend our host. However, you’ve given me an idea.” He picked up his cell phone and called a number, which was quickly answered. “Hello, there,” Stone said.

“What a nice surprise,” Brooke said.

“Are you up for a little travel tomorrow?”

“Where?”

“I can’t tell you that, but you’ll know when you arrive. Can you drive a Vespa?”

“I owned one in college.”

“Okay, here’s how it goes: Fred will pick you up tomorrow morning and drive you to Teterboro, then into a large hangar, where there will be a light jet called a Citation M2. You will board that and be flown for less than an hour. When you land, there will be a Vespa reserved for you. Write down these directions.” He gave her instructions on finding the house. “There will be a sign saying ‘private’ on the front gate. Don’t stop. Continue down the road to the village, make a few turns to make it difficult to be followed; narrow streets are best. Then drive out of town, back to the house, then around the house, and park in the shed with the other scooters and scratch at the back door of the house.”

“What clothes shall I bring?”

“Beachy, country clothes. You won’t need a ball gown. If Fred picks you up at ten, you’ll be here for lunch.”

“Got it!” she said.

“Sweet dreams.” They both hung up.

“I think that’s a better solution to my problem,” Stone said.

“I’m disappointed, but I can’t deny that.”

“Go make Shep happy,” he said, and she left, closing the door softly behind her.

Stone was in the study, reading the Times , shortly before noon, when he heard the putt-putt of a Vespa driving around the house to the rear. He put his paper down and went out back to meet Brooke.

“You made it,” he said. “Welcome! Did you have a good trip?”

“Pretty good for a girl who had no idea where she was going,” Brooke said, unbuckling her helmet and freeing her bag from its bonds on the luggage rack. “I thought it was going to be Bermuda, at first.”

Stone took the bag and felt the weight of it. “No ball gown?”

“Nope; I’ll fit right in. If we need it, you can supply some hayseed for my hair.”

“You’ll do fine, after you’ve brushed out the imprint of the helmet on your hair.”

She shook her head like a dog. “How’s that?”

“Just fine.” He explained who the other people in the house were going to be, then he took her to their room and left her to freshen up. “Lunch is at twelve-thirty, drinks at six-thirty, dinner at seven-thirty.”

“And breakfast?”

“In bed, as always.”

“Oh, good.”

He went back to the study and resumed his reading of the newspaper.

They gathered for lunch in the kitchen, where the cook, Melba, called ‘Cook,’ specialized in good, solid New England comfort food. Today’s was cod.

When they were on coffee, Doug, the security team leader said, “Let me give you a status report.”

They all settled in.

“I had worried that, after the shootout of the night before last, we might have blown our cover and had to move. We still might have to, if something else like that occurs.”

“Wait a minute,” Brooke said. “ ‘Shootout’?”

“I’ll bring you up to date after lunch,” Stone said. “Let Doug continue.”

“I didn’t bring my vest and combat gear,” she said.

“You won’t need it, Brooke,” Doug said. “We’re secure here, as of this moment.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“We’ve kept a watch on radio traffic,” Doug continued, “aviation, nautical, and even CB. And we’ve not heard a discouraging word. Stone, your yacht captain and his crew are to be complimented for the way they handled an unexpected situation. However, the opposition is aware of Breeze , now, so all of you should stay away from her, unless we use her as an escape vessel, and that would be in the middle of the night.”

“Doug, do you think we should have a look at Nostrovia? ” Stone asked.

“We already have, from the air.” He took photos from an envelope and passed them around the table. “As you can see, there are a number of places where weapons could be mounted, and a helipad, but no chopper present. It’s hard to see anything of a vessel of that size from the water; all you can see is the wall of her hull, which is steel.” He pointed to the upper deck. “You can see one of the Hinckley 43s here. And Stone was right. They’re not too large for tenders on a ship of that length.”

“Do they have an airplane at the airport?”

“We’ve run all the tail numbers of the aircraft out there and have come up with nothing — a Delaware registration, for instance. I suspect that something flew them in, then got out. I’m sure it will be available, if they choose to depart in a hurry.”

“How many crew aboard, do you think?” Stone asked.

“At least twenty, possibly more. Two of them went ashore for groceries this morning. They all wear white trousers and navy blue polo shirts, with the yacht’s name embroidered on the chest. It makes them easy to spot.”

“Or hard to spot,” Stone said, “if they change into civvies.”

“Good point. That’s all I’ve got, for the moment,” Doug said.

“Good report, Doug,” Dino said. “If you ever want to join the NYPD, give me a call.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind, Dino, if I fall on hard times.”

“What’s your definition of ‘hard times,’ Doug?” Shep asked.

“A job that pays less than Strategic Services.”