Stuart Woods: Family Jewels

“Is there any problem with cleaning the house before I get there? I have a service.”

“I don’t think so, but have them speak to me before they clean the room in question. I’ll need to run that by the police first.”

“Does the house stink?”

“Not anymore.”

“Okay, I’ll get it done. I should be at the house by about four o’clock tomorrow afternoon. I’ll call you then. By the way, the party list is on my computer there, and I’ll give it to you when I see you.”

Both men said goodbye and hung up.

After lunch Rupert loaded the cars of the two visiting couples.

“I’ll call you in New York later this week,” Nicky said to Stone.

“I’ll look forward to hearing from you.” The couples left in a Porsche and a Mercedes.

Carrie and Stone had a Bloody Mary before lunch, then Rupert served sandwiches. When he had cleared the table, Carrie gave him the rest of the day off, after he had supplied them with one more Bloody Mary.

They sat on a sofa, looking out over Georgica Pond and the Atlantic beyond. Carrie looked him in the eye. “The air feels so good, why don’t we get out of these clothes?”

“Is that the Bloody Mary talking?”

“It’s the Bloody Mary loosening my tongue,” she said, then began to unbutton his shirt. He helped her out of her sweater and unfastened her bra, and in a moment they were sitting naked, staring at each other.

Stone looked her up and down. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you,” she said, stretching out on the big sofa and pulling his head down into her lap. “I just know you’re going to be good at this.”

Stone did the best he could, which by the sound of her was pretty good, then she reciprocated. They spent an hour exploring each other, then stretched out in each other’s arms.

Stone was asleep when he heard a woman’s voice call out, “Hello? Anybody home?”

Carrie poked her head above the back of the sofa and pushed Stone’s down. “Who’s that?”

“It’s Julia, the realtor.”

“I was having a nap, Julia. What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to have a look around next door, but there’s yellow tape across the gate.”

“The one that says ‘Police Line Do Not Cross’?”

“That’s the one.”

“I think it speaks for itself.”

“Oh. Then I won’t disturb you further. Bye-bye.”

“Bye-bye.” The woman left and Carrie rejoined Stone. “That was close,” she said.

“I should have stood up and greeted her,” Stone said. “That’s what she deserved.”

Carrie laughed. “The sight of you naked is more than she deserved.” They made love again, then they walked out to the pool and had a swim, joined by Bob, who liked chasing a ball around the pool.

They were lying on chaises later when the phone rang, and Carrie picked it up. “Hello?... Yes, he is.” She handed Stone the phone. “It’s your policeman.”

Stone took the phone. “Hello?”

“Afternoon. Sorry to disturb you on a Sunday, but I have some news.”

“Shoot.”

“Darla Henry was a high-class prostitute out of Palm Beach. She’s had two arrests in the past five years. Makes you wonder who she was selling her services to, doesn’t it?”

“I have some news, too,” Stone said. “James Carlton has hired me to represent him.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Don’t think that way. He’s flying in from London tomorrow afternoon, and he’d be happy to meet with you.”

“When?”

“Say, six o’clock at his house?”

“Fine with me.”

“Other news — he gave a party last New Year’s Eve, before leaving for London the following day, and he can supply you with a guest list.”

“I’d really like to have a look at that.”

“You will. He wants to have the house cleaned before his arrival. Are you finished with the room that was furnished with a corpse?”

“I guess so, we’ve been over it every which way twice. I don’t think he’ll want the mattress back.”

“I don’t think so, either. His stay will be short, so you probably won’t get a second shot at him. You should plan accordingly.”

“I’ll do that, and I don’t think it will take long.”

“I’ll let him know. See you tomorrow at six.” He hung up. “Looks like you’ll have me as a guest until Tuesday morning,” he said to Carrie.

“I can stand that,” she replied. “I just hope you’re up to it.”

“I’ll steel myself,” he said.

“Steel is good.”

A little after four the following afternoon, Stone’s cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Jim Carlton. We’re ten minutes out, so I’ll see you at the house at five-thirty?”

“That’s fine. Sergeant D’Orio will visit at six, and he’s given the okay to clean the affected room, but you won’t get the mattress back.”

“He’s welcome to it. See you soon.”

Stone walked over to the Carlton house at five-thirty. The front door was open. “Hello?”

“Come in!” a male voice shouted. “In the study!”

Stone found a book-lined room off the living room, and Carlton rose from his desk to greet him. “Welcome,” he said. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Business first,” Stone said, taking a seat.

“The cleaners have gone, and that guest room smells like limes,” he said, sinking back into his chair. “Do we know any more than the last time we spoke?”

“The police did a background check on Darla Henry,” Stone replied. “She’s a high-end pro, working out of Palm Beach.”

“I can usually pick those out in a crowd,” he said, “but nothing comes back to me from New Year’s Eve.” He handed Stone a sheet of paper. “Here’s the party list.”

Stone ran a quick eye down it, spotting some celebrity names, then his eye stopped. “Harvey Biggers?” he said.

“Yeah, he was there.”

“It says, ‘Harvey Biggers and guest.’ Who was that, his wife?”

“No, they split. I chose sides. I remember a pretty girl, a blonde, with Harvey, but not her name.”

Stone took a copy of the deceased’s driver’s license photo from his pocket and showed it to Carlton.

“That’s the girl with Harvey,” he said.

“Was Harvey staying overnight?”

“Nobody was booked in for the night, but some of them didn’t want to drive and left the following morning, I guess. I left around eight AM, myself, and nobody was stirring. I gave instructions to the staff to give breakfast to anybody who turned up.”

“Did you actually see Harvey that morning?”

“Nope. I don’t even know if he stayed.”

“Well, we know he didn’t take his date with him.”

“That’s clear.”

“Did you fly private?”

“Yep. I have a Gulfstream 450.”

“That’s a good way to travel.”

“Do you have a Gulfstream?”

“No, but I often travel on them, courtesy of a business associate. I fly a Citation CJ3 Plus.”

“Fly it yourself?”

“Yes.”

“I have my private and my instrument and multiengine ratings. I’m scheduled for jet training Flight Safety in Wichita next month.”

“You’ll enjoy the town most from your hotel room, but that’s okay, because you’ll be too tired every night to go out.”

Carlton laughed. “I’ve heard that. Do we need to talk any more about the body in the bedroom before the cops get here?”

“No, just tell him what you told me.”

A voice came from the front door. “Hello?”

“I’ll get him.” Stone walked to the door. “In here, Sergeant.”

D’Orio joined them, along with another man dressed in a suit. “This is my chief, Don Ferris.”

Everybody shook hands and sat down. Carlton handed D’Orio his party guest list.