Стюарт Вудс - Foul Play

“Well, Kronk is still alive, but then, so are you.”

“I would already have killed him, if I thought I could get away with it.”

“Is there something I can do to help?”

“You mean, send out an Agency assassination team and do away with Kronk?”

“I wouldn’t put it in such naked terms.”

“What would you clothe it in?”

“You might ask if there’s anything I can do to keep Kronk from harming anyone else.”

“Are we talking about me?”

“If you like.”

“Lance, please don’t order any hits on my behalf.”

“You mean, you are going to do it yourself?”

“I wouldn’t know how or where to find him, and if I did, I don’t think I could walk up to him and put two in his head.”

“That’s unfortunate, because I know where he is.”

“Where?”

“Aboard his yacht in Edgartown Harbor.”

“I believe I requested F-16s to deal with that, and you declined.”

“Don’t be silly, Stone, I’m not going to blow up half a dozen innocent yachts in a crowded harbor, just to get at Kronk.”

“If you were me, how would you go after him?”

“I have planners who deal with that sort of detail.”

“Okay, how would they do it?”

Lance sighed deeply.

“I’m an amateur, Lance, I don’t know how the pros accomplish this sort of thing. Give me some tips.”

“You seem determined to make an accomplice of me.”

“Actually, I do have an idea, but I’m going to need professional help.”

“From what kind of profession?”

“Electronics and computer programming.”

“I can help with that.”

“I may call on you later,” Stone said. “Let me give it some thought.”

“As you wish,” Lance said, then hung up.

Stone’s phone rang immediately. “Hello?”

“It’s Dino.”

“Oh, hi.”

“You sound desolate. What’s wrong?”

“I just inherited nearly half a billion dollars that I don’t deserve.”

“Why do you think you don’t deserve it?”

“I can’t explain. It wouldn’t make any sense.”

“Tell you what, I’ll take it off your hands and spend it gleefully. Would that help?”

“Not much.” A green light on his phone began flashing. “I’ll have to call you back.” Stone hung up and pressed the button. “This is Stone Barrington.”

“Will you accept a call from the president of the United States?”

“Yes.”

“Hello, Stone?”

“Yes, Holly.”

“I just heard about your flying accident. Are you all right?”

“It wasn’t an accident, it was murder.”

“Of whom? You’re walking and talking, aren’t you?”

“Of my client, Shepherd Troutman. He and his father were sitting in the back of the airplane when it exploded. They didn’t survive.”

“Oh, my God. You must feel awful.”

“I do.”

“You can’t blame yourself for a murder committed by someone else.”

“It turns out that I can.”

“Oh, baby.”

“There’s an upside in this for you.”

“How? What?”

“You remember the Malibu house?”

“Of course.”

“My client bought it, then he made a will, leaving it to me, so I’m now the owner.”

“But how...”

“I’m going to make you a two-pronged offer,” Stone said. “If you decide not to run again, I’ll give you the house. If you decide to run, I’ll establish a political action committee and contribute ten million dollars to your campaign. You choose, at your leisure. I have to run now.”

He then became one of the few people known to have hung up on a president. He called back Dino.

“Was that Holly?” Dino asked.

“Yes. Just between you and me, she told me when she was in L.A. that she is considering not running again. I went with her to look at a Malibu house.”

“Did she buy it?”

“No, but Shep Troutman did. He left it to me.”

“What are you going to do with a house in Malibu?”

“I offered it to Holly as a gift, should she decide not to run again.”

“But not if she decides to run?”

“No, in that circumstance I offered her a ten-million-dollar campaign contribution.”

“So you’re not attempting to sway her either way?”

“That was my point.”

“What would you really like her to do?”

“We talked about that while we were house hunting. She wasn’t ready to make a decision.”

“But you were.”

“I made her my best offer, but she stalled me.”

“Do you blame her? That’s a tough decision.”

“I don’t blame her, I’m just trying to make it easy for her, either way.”

“I think that was a good move.”

“I hope so.”

“So what are you going to do about Kronk?”

“I’m going to try to do what I told him I would.”

“And what is that?”

“We’ll talk about it when I see you. I’m not really sure it can be done.”

“Dinner, Clarke’s, six-thirty?”

“See you there.”

They both hung up.

Stone was on his way uptown in the Bentley when his cell phone rang. “Yes?”

“Stone, it’s Charley Fox. I’m glad you’re alive to talk to.”

“Thanks, Charley.”

“Who’s going to be in charge of Shep Troutman’s account with us?”

“I am. He left a will. After a number of specific bequests, I’m his principal heir.”

“Wow. Have his executor send me some paperwork, and I’ll get the account transferred.”

“I’m his executor.”

“Well, I guess that’s kosher. It happens sometimes that the executor and the heir are one and the same.”

“The head of the estates department at Woodman & Weld and a guy from the bar association say that it’s kosher.”

“Great. Listen, I call with some news: Troutman Industries has filed an IPO. They’re going public.”

“We don’t have any of that, do we?”

“No.”

“Let’s leave it that way. Take no action.”

“Okay, we’ll stay out of it. Kind of a pity, though. It’s going be a sought-after stock. They just had a fabulous year.”

“Good for them. Gotta run, Charley.”

“Sure. See ya.”

They both hung up.

Stone got out of the car at P. J. Clarke’s and went inside. Dino was waiting at the bar, and so was his Knob Creek on the rocks. Stone took more than a sip.

“You’re looking better,” Dino said.

“I’m feeling better.”

“Good news?”

“Could be. I’m not sure yet.”

“So, what is it?”

“I’m not going to tell you, because I wouldn’t want you to make an investment because of something I told you.”

“Okay.”

They were shown to their table and busied themselves with the menus. They ordered steaks, as usual.

“So,” Dino said, “the Troutman company is going public?”

“How the hell did you know that?”

“I heard a rumor.”

“Don’t do anything about it, hear me?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to mess with insider trading. What are you going to do?”

“I’ve already told Charley Fox not to touch it.”

“I hear it’s going to be a hot stock.”

“I hope so.”

Dino looked at Stone narrowly. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing, yet.”

“I take it I don’t want to know.”

“Hang on a minute.” Stone got out his phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Herbie Fisher.”

“Okay.”

“Hello,” Herbie said.

“Herb, it’s Stone.”

“Evening. I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Thanks, but I have a question for you. Did Shep Troutman actually sell the apartment in the Carlyle?”

“No, that was a ruse, to keep those Russian guys away from it.”