Free Shoot Him if He Runs by Stuart Woods Page B

pocket,” Stone said, feeling for it. “I always carry it when I’m in a foreign place. Yours?”
    “In my handbag.”
    “Was there anything here…” He stopped himself, walked over to Holly and whispered in her ear. “Let’s check for bugs.”
    She nodded, and they both went to work. Dino knocked and came into the room. “We’re not missing anything,” he said, “but you’re right; somebody’s been through the place.” He got no response, but Stone tapped his ear. “Oh,” he said, and went back to his own room.
    Holly unscrewed the mouthpiece on the phone, then waved to get Stone’s attention. He walked over, looked at the small device inside and nodded. Holly left it there and screwed the thing back together. They went into the living room and found the same device on the phone there; there was one in Dino’s room, too.
    “Why don’t we have a nightcap on the terrace?” Stone said. He grabbed a bottle of premade gimlets and some glasses and led them outside. The wind was up a little, and the waves on the shore were making more noise than usual.
    They sat down and Stone poured the drinks. “Okay,” he said, “who?”
    “The way I see it,” Holly said, “we’ve got two choices: Sir Winston’s cops or Teddy Fay.”
    “Any particular thoughts on which?” Stone asked.
    She thought for a minute. “Nope, but Lance is going to just love this.”

17
    S tone walked up to the inn and found Thomas Hardy in his office, working at his computer. He looked up.
    “Stone,” he said, sounding pleased, “come in and sit down. Would you like some coffee?”
    “Thank you, yes, Thomas.”
    Thomas spoke briefly into the phone, and a moment later, a waiter appeared with a coffeepot and a plate of cookies.
    “How is your visit going?” Thomas asked as he poured their coffee.
    “Very well, thanks,” Stone said, stirring in a sweetener and sipping. “Until last night.”
    Thomas’s eyebrows went up. “Something wrong?”
    “We had dinner at Irene Foster’s house last night, and when we returned to the cottage we found that it had been ransacked—neatly, but nevertheless, ransacked.”
    “I’m very sorry,” Thomas said, looking concerned. “Was anything missing?”
    “Nothing, but some things had been left behind.”
    “What?”
    “All three phone extensions had been bugged.”
    “ Bugged ?”
    “That’s right.”
    “I’ve never heard of such a thing happening in St. Marks. You’re sure about this?”
    “Go down to the cottage, unscrew the mouthpiece on any phone, and you’ll see the device.”
    “But who would do such a thing?”
    “I was hoping you might have a suggestion.”
    “Surely you don’t think that I…”
    “No, of course not, Thomas; I apologize if I gave that impression. Our best guesses are Teddy Fay or Sir Winston Sutherland.”
    “Well, I don’t know about Mr. Fay, but certainly Sir Winston would do such a thing, if he thought it in his interest.”
    “But what could he possibly hope to learn by bugging our quarters?”
    Thomas shrugged. “Perhaps you could better tell me. Is there something about your visit to St. Marks that you haven’t told me?”
    Stone shook his head. “No, there isn’t; I’ve told you everything.”
    “Let’s start with Teddy Fay, then. Is there some reason, assuming he’s on the island, that he would bug the premises?”
    “I suppose he might want to learn if our presence here has anything to do with looking for him.”
    “You say the choices of culprit are Fay and Sir Winston; has it occurred to you that they might be combining their efforts?”
    “Combining? How?”
    “Well, if I were a fugitive living on the island, I might look for some sort of official protection. Mightn’t you do the same, if you were Fay?”
    “But what would be in it for Sir Winston to hide a fugitive from the United States?”
    “Money, of course; does Fay have money?”
    “We believe so, but we don’t know how much. Anyway, that sort of bribe would