Lance put a hand on Stone’s arm. “Because, my friend, yesterday your cousin, Dick Stone, shot his wife and only daughter, then put a bullet in his own brain. At his house in Dark Harbor.”
Chapter 2
STONE UNLOCKED THE front door of his house and let everybody in. “Dino, put your stuff on the elevator, take it up to the third floor and put it in the big guest room. We’ll be in my office.” Dino complied.
Stone led the way downstairs to the basement and switched on the light
s in his office. “Have a seat,” he said to Lance and Holly. They did so. Stone went to his safe, punched the combination into the electronic keypad, removed a package and set it on his desk.
Lance bent over and looked at the package, then smiled. “Smart boy, Dick.”
“Why?”
“Look at how he’s done this: The package is one large sheet of heavy paper, cut so that four corners come together and are sealed with wax and Dick’s signet ring.”
“Why?” Stone asked.
“Because it’s impossible to open and reseal the package without his ring and without being detected. I think you should draw up a document saying that Holly, Dino and I witnessed your opening the package.”
“Okay by me,” Dino said, joining them.
Stone switched on his computer, typed out a brief statement, and the three of them witnessed his breaking the seals and opening the package. Then Stone put the package back into his safe and locked it.
“What are you doing?” Lance asked.
“It’s your turn to answer some questions,” Stone said. “What is your interest in my cousin Dick?”
“I don’t have to answer your questions, Stone,” Lance said.
“And I don’t have to show you what’s in Dick’s package,” Stone replied.
“All right, I guess we’re all family here,” Lance said. “Dick Stone wasn’t with the State Department. Until recently, he was Assistant Deputy Director for European Operations for the CIA. Two weeks ago, he arrived with his family in Washington to replace Hugh English as Deputy Director for Operations—that’s the top job on the operations side, reporting to the Director of Central Intelligence. After thirty years on the job, Hugh is retiring at the end of the summer. You remember when you and I met in London a couple of years ago?”
“Of course.”
“I was working for Dick at the time. I’ve been assigned to investigate the deaths of him and his family.”
“All right,” Stone said, “now everybody go sit in my waiting room while I read what’s in the package.”
“Why?” Lance asked.
“Because I’m representing Dick as his attorney and what passes between us is confidential, unless I determine that it doesn’t need to be.”
Lance stared at him for a moment, then got up and left the loom, followed by Holly.
“You, too, Dino,” Stone said. Dino got up and left the room.
Stone opened the safe, took out the package and spread its four flaps. On top there was a letter from Dick Stone and beneath was a will. Stone read the letter:
My Dear Stone,
First of all, I wish to hire you as my attorney, and I enclose a check for $1,000.00 as a retainer. Of course, I know that your fees will surpass that amount, should I require services, but that will be taken care of in due course.
Barbara and I have written a will, which is enclosed, and I have had it properly witnessed by four people, whose names and addresses are noted. I have appointed you as our sole executor and, should it be necessary, guardian for our minor daughter, Esme, who is now eighteen, until she reaches her majority. She is entering Oxford this fall. I have also appointed you as her trustee, as she stands to inherit a lot of money if Barbara and I should both walk in front of the same oncoming bus.
You will note that, apart from a few bequests to distant relatives on Barbara’s side of the family, there are none to members of my family. My only close relatives are Caleb, his wife and their twin sons, now twenty-one years old and seniors at Yale this fall. I have specifically excluded them from inheriting any of my property. I have provided for our caretaker in Dark Harbor, Seth Hotchkiss (you’ll remember him), and his family.
You will also note that, in the highly unlikely event of Barbara, Esme and I dying simultaneously, as in a plane crash, you would become a beneficiary, along with the foundation mentioned in the will. I say highly unlikely because we always travel on different airplanes.