Stone thought for a moment, then went back into his bedroom, unlocked a window and opened it. Nothing happened; no alarm. Somebody had defeated it, in spite of Hal Rhinehart’s assurances. He picked up the phone to buzz the guest house and wake up Dino, then put it down again. Dino was unarmed, and Stone couldn’t let him walk into this without a gun.
Stone went back to the landing and listened again. Nothing for a moment, then the noise came, but more softly. He flicked off the gun’s safety and began to creep slowly down the stairs, staying close to the wall to avoid squeaks from the steps. He stopped on the landing midway down the stairs to listen again. Nothing.
His heart pounding, Stone continued down the stairs, stopping every step or two to listen. At the bottom, he pressed his back against the wall and listened again. The noise came, as if someone were grinding something. Then, as from a great distance, a phone began to ring. It was faint, so it had to be coming from Dick’s secret office.
Stone took a deep breath, held the gun out in front of him in a combat stance and whipped around the corner, looking for any sign of movement, listening for any noise. The downstairs hallway was empty, but he heard the noise again, coming from the study.
Walking on tiptoe, even though he was barefoot, he went to the open study door and listened again. Nothing. He charged into the room yelling “Freeze, police!” the way he had done hundreds of times before, when he still was the police. Nothing. No one. He walked around the study, checking every corner, until he came to the alarm keypad glowing in the dark, near the door to the terrace. He checked the little screen: “Open window in master BR,” it said. The phone continued to ring. Stone tapped in the alarm code. The phone still rang.
Stone did a quick tour of the downstairs, checking every room, but found nothing. He got out his keys, went to Dick’s secret office door and opened it. The phone stopped ringing. Stone switched on the light in the little office and looked around, half expecting to find somebody there. Then he saw something he hadn’t noticed before. The wall opposite Dick’s desk was lined with cabinets, and one of them, with double doors, had a substantial lock on it.
He went through his keys until he found one that fit, then opened the cabinet. Inside, hanging on pegs, was an array of weapons: a stainless-steel riot gun with an extra-long magazine; a Beretta 9 mm semi-automatic, model 92, which was used by the armed services; a model 1911 Colt.45 officer’s model, with a beautiful mirror-blue finish and ivory grips; and a pair of Colt Government.380s finished identically to the larger pistol. So Dick had been well armed, after all.
The phone in the study started to ring. Stone rushed to answer it, lest it wake someone, then realized he was alone in the house. He picked it up. “Hello?”
“Stone? It’s Lance. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” Stone said. “I was sound asleep, and I was wakened by a noise. I got my pants on and started downstairs, then I thought better of it, remembering that’s what Dick did. So I opened a window in my bedroom to set off the alarm, but it didn’t go off.”
“Yes, it did go off,” Lance said. “It’s silent, unless you program it not to be. The signal was transmitted to Operations, at Langley, and they called the house, but you didn’t answer, so they called me. Are you all right? Is someone in the house?”
“I’m all right,” Stone said, “and it appears I’m alone. I heard the phone ringing in Dick’s little office, but by the time I was able to get the door unlocked, it stopped. Then you called.”
“Are you alone up there?”
“Dino’s here, but he’s in the guest house.”
“There’s a manual for the alarm system somewhere in the house, probably in the little office, if you want to change the alarm from silent. It appears to be working properly.”
“Yes, I had the house checked out by an expert, and he says it’s pretty much impenetrable, unless you saw through a wall.”
“What expert?”
“A burglar.”
“What?”
“A guy Dino and I once busted for more than a hundred burglaries in New York. He’s out of prison now and living here. He’s a cabinetmaker.”
“Well, I guess that’s one kind of expert. If you’re all right, I’m going back to bed.”
“Sure, and thanks for calling.” They both hung up.
Suddenly, the front doorbell rang, and there was a hammering on the front door. Stone ran to the door, switched on the front porch light and looked through the peephole. Dino was standing there in his pajamas and robe. Stone opened the door.
“What’s going on?” Dino asked.
“I heard a noise in the house,” Stone said. “What woke you up?”
“The phone. I had just gotten up to piss, and I heard it ring. I wasn’t sleepy, anyway, so I came over.”
Stone closed the door. “Come in the study. You want a drink?”
“Couldn’t hurt,” Dino said. “Keep out the cold night air.”
“Oh, let me show you something.” He led Dino into Dick’s little office and showed him the array of weapons. Dino picked up the officer’s.45. “I like this,” he said. “I’ll sleep with it under my pillow.” He checked and found a full magazine in the gun.
Stone pointed to a shelf that held a lot of gun leather. “Find yourself a belt and holster.” He went to the bar and got down a couple of glasses. As he was about to open the door to the ice machine, he heard the noise again.
Dino approached. “Is that the noise you heard?”
“Yes,” Stone said sheepishly.
“The ice machine, making ice?”
Stone sighed. “Yes. I wonder why I’ve never heard it before.”
“I think you’re a little too tightly wound,” Dino said. “Sit down and drink that bourbon.”
Stone followed orders.
Chapter 24
STONE WENT BACK to bed and tried to retrieve the dream with Arrington, but it wouldn’t come back. He overslept, not waking until after ten, and he felt fuzzy around the edges. He wasn’t accustomed to drinking in the middle of the night.
He sat up in bed and called Arrington’s home in Virginia. A maid answered.
“She’s not here, Mr. Barrington. She’s in New York, she and Peter. You can reach her at the Carlyle.”
“Thank you,” Stone said. He called the Carlyle and asked for Mrs. Calder.
“Hello?” she said, sounding chipper and cheerful.
“It’s Stone.”
“Oh, hi. I was about to call you. I’m in New York.”
“I know; I just called you.”
“Oh, that’s right. Sorry. You want to have dinner tonight?”
“I’d love to, but it’s a plane ride.”
“What?”
“I’m in Maine.”
“Why? What are you doing in Maine?”
“I have a new house on an island called Islesboro. Why don’t you summon up the Centurion jet, and you and Peter come up here for a few days?” As the widow of Centurion Studios’ largest stockholder, she had access to their jet.
She was silent for a moment. “All right, but it will have to be tomorrow, maybe the next day. I have some shopping to do here.”