Free The Short Forever by Stuart Woods Page A

“What do you want to know?”
    “Why do you want Lance Cabot in an English jail?”
    “I can’t tell you that.”
    “Is your interest in him personal, or are you working for someone else?”
    “Both.”
    “Who are you?”
    “Do you wish to continue to represent me in this matter?” Now Bartholomew was angry.
    “I don’t much care one way or the other,” Stone replied evenly, “but I don’t like to be kept in the dark about the motives for my investigation.”
    “I’m afraid it will have to be that way for a time, but I’d like very much for you to continue.”
    Stone made his decision. “All right, I’ll continue.” Until I find out what the hell is going on, he thought.
    “Good. But please keep the phone I gave you on your person at all times. I don’t like not being able to reach you.”
    “All right.”
    “Contact me again when you have something to report.”
    “All right.”
    Bartholomew hung up without further ado.
    Stone called Bill Eggers.
    “Hi there, you called while I was in Chile?”
    “Yes, I did. You’re going to Chile for the weekend, nowadays?”
    “At the invitation of a client who has a Gulfstream Four.”
    “You’re a lucky man. Who is the man you sent to see me last week?”
    “How do you mean, ‘who’?”
    “What’s his real name, for a start.”
    “I thought it was Bartholomew.”
    “It’s not; I know that much. How did he come to you?”
    “A client referred him.”
    “Who’s the client?”
    “I’m afraid that’s confidential.”
    “Where is the client located?”
    “In Washington; you can infer what you wish from that.”
    “I will. Do you have any idea what Bartholomew really wants?”
    “I don’t even know what he told you he wants.”
    “He told me a cock-and-bull story, and I’m annoyed.”
    “I hope you haven’t done anything rash.”
    “Like quit?”
    “Yes.”
    “Not yet, but I’m going to, if he keeps lying to me.”

    “Stick it out, Stone. I can’t tell you why you should, but I’d appreciate it.”
    “Oh, all right, Bill.”
    “Thanks. I’ll remember.” He hung up.
    Stone called Dino.
    “How you doin’?” Dino asked cheerfully.
    “I had a strange weekend.”
    “Tell me.”
    Stone told him.
    “And she inherits the guy’s business?”
    “Apparently so. What do you think?”
    “You know what I think,” Dino chuckled, “but I have a more suspicious mind than you do.”
    “I think I prefer not being suspicious right now.”
    “I’ll be willing to bet you hear from Sarah before the day’s out.”
    “She’s grieving,” Stone said.
    “Yeah, sure. I gotta go; anything else?”
    “Nope.”
    “She’s going to call you.” Dino hung up.
    Stone stood up and stretched, and the phone rang. He picked it up. “Hello?”
    “It’s Sarah,” she said.

15
    SHE SOUNDED PERFECTLY NORMAL—not depressed, not upset, just Sarah.
    “How are you feeling?” he asked.
    “Perfectly all right, thank you.”
    “What was the outcome of the inquest?”
    “Accidental death,” she replied. “Had you expected another outcome?”
    “No, I was sure that would be the verdict.”
    “Sir Bernard seemed to think I might have purposely gybed the yacht; is that what you think?”
    “No, and I told him so.”
    “Did he say to you that I might have done it on purpose?”
    “No, and I don’t think he believes that—not from anything he said in our conversation.”
    “What about Lance? Does he believe I killed James?”
    “Lance doesn’t know anything about sailing; he didn’t really understand what happened. I explained it to him, and he seemed satisfied.”
    She was silent for a moment. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
    “All right.”
    She seemed to be having trouble getting it out. Finally she spoke. “I didn’t intentionally cause James’s death, but I’m not really very sorry he’s dead. Does that sound awful?”
    Stone avoided a direct answer. “Please tell me what you mean.”
    “I wouldn’t have gone