Dark Harbor (24 page)

“Tell me, Sergeant, how is knowing that going to help you?”

“Well, if they’re on the boat, then their alibi for my time frame might be good.”

“
Might
be good?”

“We’re talking about a period of four days. They say they were in Newport until yesterday, partying, and the race started yesterday morning.”

“Have you talked to the police in Newport?”

“Yes, and they’re investigating as we speak.”

“And you just want to know if they’re on the boat.”

“I want to know if they’re on
Nantucket
.”

“And you don’t want me to detain them?”

“No, sir, please don’t do that.”

“I guess you want the collar yourself, huh?”

“I don’t have enough evidence for a collar. If they’re on Nantucket, I’ll have even less. If they’re
not
on Nantucket, then I may have some basis on which to proceed.”

“Well, I’ll drive down to the marina and have a look around,” the lieutenant said.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“And I’ll call you at this number when I find out?”

“Please do that; I’ll wait for your call.”

“Bye-bye, Sergeant.”

The lieutenant closed his cell phone, finished his coffee and started the car. He drove down to the main marina and parked his cruiser on a yellow curb and got out. He strolled down to the marina and walked into the dockmaster’s office.

“Hey, Charlie,” he said to the man behind the desk.

“Morning, Jake.”

“You got a boat named…” He consulted his notebook. “..
.Potshot
?”

Charlie picked up a clipboard and ran his finger down to the Ps. “That’s
Potshot
?”

“Right.”

“Nope. Nothing by that name.”

“It didn’t come in here with the race from Newport?”

“It didn’t come in here at all, with anybody.”

Jake nodded. He flipped open his cell phone and called Maine.

“Sergeant Young.”

“Sergeant, it’s Jake Potter, in Nantucket.”

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“I’m down at the marina office; there’s no boat by that name in the marina. It’s not on the dockmaster’s list.”

“Well, that’s pretty interesting,” Young said.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

“Does the dockmaster have a list of people on the yachts?”

“Hang on, I’ll ask him. Charlie, do you have a list of the people that come in here on these boats?”

Charlie shook his head. “Nope. I couldn’t care less who comes in here on the boats; all I want to know is what I have to find space for.”

“No, Sergeant, he doesn’t have a list of people.”

“Lieutenant, do you think you could just take a walk around the marina and see if there’s a yacht named
Hotshot?”

“Oh, you’re looking for
another
boat, now?”

“No.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m just looking for the one.”

“Potshot?”

“No, not
Potshot, Hotshot
. With an
H
for
hotel
.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so?”

“Could you ask the dockmaster about
Hotshot
, please?”

“Hang on. Charlie, now he wants a boat named
Hotshot.
You got one of them?”

Charlie picked up his clipboard and ran a finger down to the Hs. “Yep, I’ve got just one
Hotshot:
dock three, berth fourteen.”

“Sergeant?”

“Yes?”

“He’s got a
Hotshot
all right: dock three, berth fourteen.”

“Great! Could you go down there and have a look at it?”

“Sure.”

“Wait a minute. I’ve got a better idea.”

“What’s that?”

“Let me speak to the dockmaster, please.”

Jake handed his phone to Charlie.

“Charlie here.”

“Charlie, this is Sergeant Young of the Maine State Police.” He explained his problem and described the twins. “Rather than have a uniformed officer go down to the boat, could you or one of your people go to the boat and tell them there’s a phone call for either Eben Stone or Enos Stone in your office?”

“But there isn’t a phone call.”

“I just want to know if they’re on the boat. If they’re not, ask if they’re in the village or on the island somewhere.”

“And if they are on the boat?”

“Ask for a cell phone number and tell them you’ll refer the call.”

“What call?”

“The imaginary call. If they want to know why the caller never called them, you don’t know. All you did was give him the message.”

“Okay. I can do that in a few minutes.”

Young gave him the cell phone number. “Can I speak to the lieutenant again?”

“This is Jake.”

“Lieutenant, thanks so much for your help.”

“What help?”

Chapter 51

JAKE POTTER POURED himself a cup of the dockmaster’s coffee and gazed out the window at the yachts in their slips. This state cop, Young, from Maine had something real good going, he reflected. Multiple murders, serial killer, mucho publicity in the Boston papers and TV. Jake didn’t like state cops; they always wanted to come in and take over a local investigation. They’d had a real good murder on Nantucket the previous summer, and the Massachusetts state cops were all over it like flies before Jake and his colleagues had really had a chance to break it.

He turned to the dockmaster. “Tell you what, Charlie,” he said, setting down his coffee cup and starting to unbutton his shirt. “I’ll go down there and check out Hotshot.”

“Whatever,” Charlie said, hardly looking up from his computer.

Jake took off his uniform shirt and his cap and hung them on a coat rack beside the door of the office. Now he was just a guy in a white T-shirt and khaki pants. He pulled the tail of his T-shirt out and pulled it down over his gunbelt, then he left the office and walked down the ramp to the docks, moving slowly, as was his wont. He strolled down to dock 3 and turned right. Long lines of yachts stretched out for many yards on both sides of the walkway.

Jake counted out the berths as he walked, not actually using his fingers, but moving his lips as he read the numbers. He came to berth 14. Two young men were lounging in the cockpit, drinking beer. Neither fit the description of the suspects. Jake walked down the catwalk alongside the yacht and stood next to the cockpit, maybe eight feet from where the two boys sat. They glanced at him, then went back to their conversation, dismissing any importance he might have.

They think I’m just another tourist, Jake thought with satisfaction. “Ahoy, there,” he said.

One of the boys looked up at him. “Ahoy?” He chuckled. “What can we do for you, Popeye?”

“I’m looking for two twins,” he consulted his notebook, “named Edwin and Elmer Stone?”

“Eben and Enos,” the boy corrected.

“Yeah, them. Are they aboard?”

The boy waved a hand. “You see them?”

“Are they downstairs?”

“Downstairs?”

“Down there,” Jake said, pointing at the cabin. He hated these Boston pups, the arrogant little sons of bitches.

“There’s just us,” the boy said.

“Where can I find, uh…”

“Eben and Enos?”

“Yeah.”

“They went ashore a few minutes ago.”

“Where ashore?”

“They had some stuff to buy, beer and stuff.”

“When are they coming back?”

“Who knows? We don’t sail until tomorrow.”

“They got a phone call up at the dockmaster’s office.”

The boy shrugged. “What can I tell you?”

 “They got a cell phone number I can send the call to?”

“Yeah.” The boy made a little face to show he was trying to remember, then he spat out a number. “Try them on that.”

“Got it,” Jake said, scribbling the number in his notebook. “Thanks, guys.” He turned and walked back up the dock.

THE TWO BOYS WAITED until he was twenty feet away before they burst out laughing. One of them took a cell phone from his pocket and tapped in a number.

“Hello?”

“Which one is this?”

“Enos.”

“A cop was just at the boat,” he said. “Like you predicted. Funny guy; he actually said, ”Ahoy.“”

“Are you sure he was a cop? Was he in uniform?”

“He was wearing a white undershirt and khakis, and shiny black shoes and a web belt with a shiny brass buckle, and he had a white sidewall haircut, and there was a big bulge on his belt. Who else would he be?”

“What did he say?”

“He wanted you and Eben, and I told him you went ashore for beer. He said you had a call at the dockmaster’s office, and I gave him your cell number.”

“Okay.”

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah, we had a great night with the girls, even if they are underage. Thanks for covering for us; we don’t want to deal with their old man.”

“Do it once for me.”

“You bet.”

BACK AT THE DOCKMASTER’S office, Jake got into his shirt and cap before calling Sergeant Young.

“This is Young.”

“Hey, Jake Potter, in Nantucket.”

“Yes, Jake. What did you find out?”

“I went down to the boat; your boys are here,” Potter replied. “I got their cell phone number for you.” He read it out.

“Yeah, I’ve already got that.”

“You can reach them on that number,” Jake said. “Good luck on your case, and don’t forget who helped you.”

“Thanks, Jake.” Young hung up.

Jake strolled back to his car, got in and began driving slowly up the street, looking for a pair of identical giants carrying beer. He was going to keep an eye on these two, and if they did anything funny, he was going to be all over them.

Sergeant Tom Young put his cell phone back into his shirt pocket. “That was the cop from Nantucket,” he said to Stone.

“They checked out the yacht?”

“Yes. The twins were aboard.”

“So much for that theory,” Stone said.

Chapter 52

STONE WENT INTO Dick’s little office, where Lance was working on the computer. “The Nantucket police have verified that the Stone twins are there, on the yacht.”

Lance sighed. “I had hopes for that theory,” he said. He span around in his chair. “Stone, I don’t want to talk about this in front of Ham, but I think you know that the chances of finding Holly alive are down to slim and none.”

“I can’t think about that, Lance; I just have to keep trying to figure this thing out.”

“I know you feel responsible, but you’re not,” Lance said. “You told her to go armed.”

“She did; her gun is not upstairs, and neither is the holster.”

“Then she was incapacitated at the outset, but that’s not your fault, either.”

“I wish I could feel that way about it.”

Dino called out from the study, “Hey, Stone, you and Lance come in here a minute, will you?”

Stone and Lance walked into the study to find Dino and Sergeant Young hunched over the coffee table, looking at Lance’s thermal images and the sergeant’s map of the island. “What’s up?” Stone asked.

Dino tapped the thermal image with his forefinger. “I’m just looking at this house,” he said.

“What about it?”

“This is the image from last night. It shows four people, presumably asleep, in the house, at around three-thirty a.m., two people in each of two bedrooms.”

“So?”

“So, according to Tom’s map, it’s Caleb Stone’s house.”

“And there were four people present last night?”

“Look for yourself. My question is, if the twins are in Nantucket, who are the other two people besides Caleb and his wife?”

“I don’t know. Guests maybe?”

“The twins can’t be in two places at once, Dino,” Lance said, “and we have a sighting of them by a police officer on the yacht less than an hour ago.”

“Tom,” Dino said, “do you personally know this Nantucket cop?”

“Never met him,” Young said. “I just phoned his office this morning, and they put me in touch with him.”

“How did he strike you on the phone—sharp?”

“Not really. He kept getting things mixed up: the twins’ names, the name of the yacht.”

“So, maybe he’s mixed up about the twins being on the yacht.”

Young produced his cell phone and called Potter’s number.

“Yeah?”

“Lieutenant, it’s Tom Young from the Maine State Police again.”

“Yeah?”

“When you went down to the boat this morning, did you actually see the twins?”

“Ah, no, but the two guys on board said they had just gone for beer. I’m looking for them now.”

“So, you didn’t sight the twins?”

“Not yet.”

“Thanks, Lieutenant.”

“You think the two guys lied to me?”

“It’s a strong possibility. If you find them, please call me immediately. Goodbye.” Young hung up. “He didn’t see them.”

“I’d like to visit Caleb’s house,” Stone said.

“Me, too,” Young replied.

Ham stood up. “I’m coming, too.”

“I’d rather you didn’t, Mr. Barker,” Young said. “You just stay here, and let me do my job. You, too, Stone.”

“As you wish, Sergeant,” Stone replied.

“I’ll call you after I’ve talked to Caleb—and his sons, if they’re there.”

“Be careful,” Stone said.

Young left the house.

“You shouldn’t get too excited about this, Ham,” Stone said.

“No?” Ham replied. “If these twins are here, why are they establishing an alibi for themselves in Nantucket?”

“I don’t know, but they may actually be in Nantucket, and we still don’t have anything to connect them with Holly.”

The doorbell rang, and Stone went to answer it. Ed Rawls stood on the doorstep.

“Come on in, Ed.”

“Thanks. Anything new?”

“I’m not sure. We’ve just learned that Caleb Stone’s twin sons have gone to some lengths to make the police believe that they’re in Nantucket, but we’ve learned that they’re not.”

“We haven’t learned that yet, Stone,” Lance pointed out. “All we know is that the Nantucket cop looking for them hasn’t seen them yet.”

“And,” Dino pointed out, “we’ve got these thermal scans that show four people sleeping in Caleb’s house last night.”

“So, what if they are here?” Rawls asked. “Have you got anything to connect them to any of the murders?”