“I think that’s why Arthur brought me onto the board.”
“That and the fact that he wants to acquire other tech companies, and he knows little about them.” Stone’s cell rang. “Excuse me, it’s the cops. Hello, Harry.”
“Stone, can I come see you for a few minutes?”
“Sure. I gave you the address—it’s the first driveway on the right.”
“Got it. Be there in five.”
* * *
—
HE GAVE HARRY and Moe iced tea and sat them down.
“Your instincts were good,” Harry said. “A dozen flights have left Key West International since the events of this morning, and we satisfied ourselves that most of their occupants were straight-up tourists. There was one couple, though, who didn’t quite ring true, but we couldn’t hold them without more evidence. He was carrying a credit card receipt from a local B&B, and we had a look around there and came up with a single .223 round. He was careless. His name is Anthony Carew, and he and his wife are on a plane to LaGuardia. I thought you might know somebody on the NYPD that I could call and have meet them.”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Stone said. “He’s over there making a sandwich.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “Dino, have you got a minute?”
Dino wiped his hands, came over, and sat down.
“These are Detectives Harry Kaufelt and Moe Cramer, KWPD. They need your help. Gentlemen, this is Dino Bacchetti, who is the police commissioner of New York City. I think he’s the guy you want to speak to.”
“What’s up?” Dino asked.
“We have suspects on an airplane right now, due at LaGuardia in about an hour. Could you have them picked up and held until we get there?”
“Sure,” Dino said. “Descriptions?”
“Male, mid-forties, six feet, two hundred pounds, bald, wearing a flowered shirt over a potbelly, and Bermuda shorts. Female, mid-thirties, five-five, and a hundred and twenty pounds. Names—Anthony and Sheila Carew, both carrying backpacks for luggage. Suspicion of attempted murder. We can get there on a flight leaving in an hour.”
Dino made the call and gave the orders. “What time will they arrive in New York?”
“Three o’clock, Jet Blue flight.”
“And you?”
“Six o’clock.”
“I’ll have you met and driven. You’re going to need an extradition warrant.”
“That’s in the works. Somebody will meet us at the Key West airport with the warrant.”
“Anything else I can do for you?”
“I can’t think of a thing, Commissioner. Thanks very much for your help.”
“Anytime,” Dino said. Everybody shook hands and they left.
“Well,” Meg said, “that’s more policemen than I’ve ever seen in one day.”
“By the way,” Stone said, “I’ve told the cops I think they were aiming at one of us—you, me, or Arthur—and shot Al Harris by accident. Can you think of anybody who harbors hard feelings toward you? Hard enough to hire a killer to go after you?”
To Stone’s surprise, she didn’t dismiss the idea out of hand, but thought about it. Finally, she said, “I had a partner who owned ten percent of the business. He wasn’t happy with ten percent of the sale price, figured I owed him more, in spite of an airtight contract that covered just such a sale.”
“What were his grounds for believing that?”
“He seemed to think that I’d planned the whole thing from the start—suck him dry of his tech knowledge, then stiff him in the deal.”
“Did you do that?”
“I can see how he might believe it, but that wasn’t the way it was. He was important to the effort for a while, spent six years working on the product line but faded as a factor the last couple of years. He walked away with a hundred and fifty million for his trouble. He was also paid nearly a million dollars a year for his work. I felt he was very well compensated in the sale and didn’t deserve more, but he filed a patent suit anyway, which got thrown out of court. He has a paranoid side to him, and he wasn’t easy to get along with.”
“What does he look like?”
“A lot like the description that the detective gave Dino,” she said. “Wife, too. And he’s a gun nut, had a big collection.”
“Why didn’t you mention him to the detectives this morning?”
“It crossed my mind, but I dismissed it, until I heard what Harry had to say to Dino.”
“What are the couple’s names?”
“Gino and Veronica Bellini.”
“You have an address for them?”
“They left town after I sold the company. I don’t know where they went.”
Stone picked up his phone, checked Harry Kaufelt’s number on his card, and dialed the number. “Harry,” he said, “Carew and his wife may be traveling under the names of Gino and Veronica Bellini. Bellini was a partner in Ms. Harmon’s business who was disgruntled with his share of the sale. Get this—he only got a hundred and fifty million dollars.” They talked for another minute, and Stone hung up.
“Sounds like a good suspect,” Dino said.
“He does, doesn’t he?” Stone replied. “Meg, I’m glad you told us about Bellini.”
“So am I,” she said.
Viv brought over a tray of sandwiches, and Dino opened a bottle of wine.
“You know,” Meg said, “this is a much nicer way to spend the day than playing golf with a lot of businesspeople.”
“Hear! Hear!” Stone said.
4
Gino and Veronica Bellini sat in first class, enjoyed a drink and lunch, then, an hour out of LaGuardia, each disappeared into a restroom with a backpack, and when they emerged, Gino was wearing a business suit, tie, and toupee, and the pillow under his belt was in the toilet tank with his old clothes and his backpack. Veronica wore a stylish dress with her long hair down, and they emerged from the airplane without luggage. Immediately outside the door two obvious police detectives were waiting in the rampway and hardly gave them a glance.
When the last passengers had left the airplane the bemused detectives went aboard and searched it thoroughly and left just as bemused, while the Bellinis drove away in a chauffeured black Mercedes, rented. They were driven to a five-star Fifth Avenue hotel and checked into a large suite.
“What now?” Veronica asked.
“We’ll get another shot at her,” Gino replied.
“Is it worth it, Gino?” Veronica asked.
“It’s worth it to me.”
“Why don’t we go to Europe for a while?”
“Maybe, we’ll see. Now, we both have some shopping to do, and I have a few chores to take care of.” He held up a computer thumb drive.
* * *
—
BACK IN KEY WEST, Stone and his guests had moved on to cocktails, and Viv and Meg were planning dinner.
Dino’s cell rang. “Bacchetti. Yeah? What do you mean?” He listened for a minute, then hung up.
Before Dino could speak, Stone’s cell rang. “Hello?”
“Stone, it’s Harry Kaufelt.”
“Yes, Harry?” He put the phone on speaker and set it on the table between him and Dino.
“I just got to New York, and a couple of New York cops met me. The Carews or Bellinis or whoever the fuck they are weren’t on the airplane. And I know goddamned well they got on it and took off.”
“Harry, Dino is right here. Tell us what you want to do.”
“What can I do?”
“I can put out an APB on them,” Dino said, “and we can check the hotels, but it’s a big city with thousands of hotels.”
“Thanks, Commissioner, but I don’t think we have enough evidence to ask your people to make that kind of effort. We still haven’t found the weapon. We’ll have to go another way.”
“Call me if I can help. I’ll be here the rest of the week, then in my New York office after that.”
“Yes, sir.” Everybody hung up.
“Well,” Dino said, “that’s cute—they changed their appearance on the airplane and walked right past my guys.”
“It wouldn’t have taken much,” Stone said. “Ditch their clothes down the toilet and put on something they brought in their backpacks. And I would imagine that anybody that clever and with that much money would have a new identity or two all set up, as well.”