Shoot First (A Stone Barrington Novel)

“Because Dino somehow neglected to tell them that I didn’t kill them.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Dino said. “They have to draw their own conclusions from evidence and the witnesses.” He turned to Meg. “Stone is the only witness, so it’s standard practice that he is the immediate suspect, until the evidence clears him.”

“What kind of evidence will clear him?” she asked.

“Beats me,” Dino said. “I haven’t visited the crime scene.”

“Lack of motive,” Stone said to her.

“I wouldn’t lean too heavily on that,” Dino said. “After all, you went to Bellini’s apartment to get something he stole from your client. An objective person might conclude that he was reluctant to give it to you, and in the ensuing argument, you shot Bellini, then his wife, because she was a witness.”

“An objective observer would not think that if he knew that I went to see Bellini with seventy million dollars in checks of different amounts, in order to buy the stolen designs back from him, and he accepted one for ten million.”

“They didn’t find any checks,” Dino said.

“That’s because I returned the checks to Arthur Steele, who gave them to me for the purpose of buying back the stolen designs.”

“In that case, an objective observer might conclude that you murdered them to get back the ten million,” Dino said, “and a jury might very well accept that conclusion.”

“Stone is going to trial?” Meg asked.

“I am not,” Stone said. “When Dino’s detectives have heard all the facts, they will move on to the next suspect, who is the person who killed them, one Stanislav Beria. I am your witness to that.”

“You didn’t actually see Beria shoot them, and my people didn’t find him in the apartment,” Dino said.

“Of course not. I trailed Beria and his gorilla to the Russian mission. They’ll find him there.”

“No, the Russians won’t let them in, and even if they should find Beria off the reservation, he will decline to answer any questions because he’s a certified diplomat and has a diplomatic passport to prove it.”

“Back to you, Stone,” Meg said.

“I also have an excellent character witness,” Stone said, “who will tell the detectives that I would never murder anyone.”

“They would discount my testimony,” Dino replied, “because they know that we are very good friends, and that I would probably lie for you.”

“Probably?”

“Probably.”

“The ballistic evidence will show that the bullet did not come from any weapon I own.”

“Of course not,” Dino said. “You would have been unlikely to use a weapon that could be traced to you. In cases like this, the murderer often obtains an untraceable weapon, and anyway, he would ditch it at the first opportunity.”

“The doorman at Bellini’s building will testify that Beria and the gorilla went up to Bellini’s apartment,” Stone said.

“He will also testify that you went up to Bellini’s apartment,” Dino said blithely.

“Your detectives will find no gunshot residue on my person or clothing,” Stone said gamely.

“You’ve had plenty of time to scrub your hands and send your clothes to be cleaned.”

The waiter brought menus.

“I recommend the steaks,” Stone said to Meg.

“I think I’ve lost my appetite,” she replied. “You should have the steak, though. I understand the food is terrible in prison.”

Stone took a deep breath and let it out.

“Don’t lose your temper, Stone,” Dino said. “There are half a dozen people here who know you and could testify that you have trouble controlling yourself.”

The waiter came to take their order.

“Terry,” Stone said to the man, “have you ever known me to lose my temper?”

“Well,” Terry said thoughtfully, “there was that time when your steak arrived too rare, and you threatened to murder the chef.”

“Heh, heh,” Stone said. “You know that was entirely in jest.”

“You didn’t seem to be jesting,” Terry replied. “And you were sort of fondling your steak knife.”

“I rest my case,” Dino said.

Stone ordered, through clenched teeth.

Dino and Meg ordered, too.

“And a bottle of that cheap Cabernet that Stone always orders when he’s buying,” Dino said to the waiter.

“Gotcha,” Terry said, then left.

“Well, Dino,” Meg said, “I don’t think Stone was very convincing about his anger problem.”

“Neither do I,” Dino replied.

Stone polished off his drink and began to fondle his steak knife.





36




Stone was stonily silent in the car on the way home, and Meg didn’t disturb him. Back at the house they undressed and Stone came to bed wearing a nightshirt, while Meg was naked, as usual.

“That’s amusing,” she said, nodding at the nightshirt.

“You are easily amused,” Stone replied. “You’ve been amused all evening by Dino, who was, as usual, very amusing.”

“You thought I was serious about suspecting you of murder?”

“Were you not?”

“I was not, but perhaps I should revise my opinion.”

“Which is?”

“There you go—I was trying to amuse you, and you took it the wrong way, of course.”

“What do you mean, ‘of course’?”

“You’ve been intent all night on taking everything I said the wrong way.”

“I suppose I had trouble discerning between your speaking the wrong way and your speaking the right way,” Stone said.

“Hasn’t it occurred to you that I would never suspect you of murder?”

“No, it has not, given the circumstances, and Dino had trouble coming down on the right side of that question, as well.”

“Are you mad at me or mad at Dino?”

“Can’t I be annoyed with you both, simultaneously?”

“It’s very unattractive when you are.”

“I plead guilty to being unattractive, but not to murder.”

Meg got out of bed, went to her dressing room, and came back wearing a nightgown. “Good night,” she said, climbing into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, and turning on her side, away from Stone.

“Sleep well,” Stone grumbled. It seemed to him that Meg fell asleep immediately, which made him even angrier. He got very little sleep that night.



* * *





STONE WOKE from a fitful sleep with sunlight streaming through a window where he had forgotten to close the curtains. He reached for Meg but found Bob instead, his tail thumping against the bed. Stone could hear Meg’s shower running. He rang Helene and ordered breakfast, then found the Times where it had been slid under the door and got back into bed, switching on Morning Joe, and pressed the remote control that sat him up and pointed him at the TV.

Meg came out of the bathroom in a terry robe, toweling her hair.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning.”

“I ordered breakfast for us.”

“I’m not very hungry.”

“That’s what you said last night and you ate a steak, then some of mine.”

“Do you think I’m getting fat?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen your body for about thirty-six hours.”

She whipped off the robe and posed for him. “There, dear, is that better?”

Stone looked up from his paper. “You’re not getting fat,” he said.

“I’m so relieved.”

Breakfast came and they both ate everything on the tray.

“Now I’m getting fat,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Are we still angry with each other?” she asked.

“I’m not angry,” Stone replied. “I’m disappointed.”

“Disappointed in me?”

“I don’t know what you want,” he said. “I’ve kept you from being shot twice, I’ve recovered half a billion dollars of computer files, and kept those files from being sold to a notorious arms dealer who could have sold them to anybody. Oh, and I murdered the man who ordered you killed. Is that not enough?”

“You murdered Bellini?” she asked, horrified.

“Of course not, that was a joke.”

“It wasn’t very funny.”

“Funny, I thought it was.”

“I didn’t think it was funny, and I have a great sense of humor.”

“That’s what people with no sense of humor always say.”

She sighed. “I’m tired of this,” she said.

“We have that in common, if little else.”