Stone came over and looked over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“I’m practicing my calligraphy,” Pete said. "I’m copying this book, see?“
Stone glanced at the book, which seemed handwritten in a beautiful copperplate. “Do you study calligraphy at school?”
“I don’t take a class in it or anything, but I was having trouble with my handwriting, and my teacher said it would help if I copied from a book, just for practice.”
“That’s a great idea,” Stone said. “I have to go out for a while; when your mother gets up, please tell her I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“Okay.” The boy went back to work.
Stone walked over to the yacht club and found a little group of people boarding a small motor yacht at the end of the pier. Rawls, Harley Davis and Mack Morris were there, along with a couple and their teenaged daughter, who was in tears. Rawls introduced them.
“This is Ralph and Martha Harris and their daughter, Janey,” he said. “Martha is Don’s sister.”
The boat was Ralph’s, apparently, and he got the engine started. They motored out a ways, then Rawls and Martha said a few words, and she emptied the ashes into the water. Janey seemed more upset than anybody, Stone thought.
They returned to the yacht club, and Stone excused himself and returned home.
Peter was still copying lines from the book, and Arrington was seated by the fireplace, drinking coffee with Dino. Stone poured himself a cup and was about to sit down when the phone rang, and he went to the desk to answer it.
“It’s Lance. I’ve got the phone information.”
“Great.”
“On the day Don Brown died, he called the Agency WATS line a little after three p.m. and was connected to an Operations officer named Jake Burns. I tried to call Jake, but he’s left on an assignment and is unreachable. An office assistant said that Jake did a criminal records search for Don, but she doesn’t know the results or even who the subject was. That’s all I could get.”
“Well, that’s very interesting, indeed, and very frustrating, too.”
“I know. I left a message for Jake, but there’s no way of knowing when he’ll be able to respond to it. I wish there were something else I could do.”
“Thanks, Lance. I appreciate that.” Stone hung up, called Rawls and told him the results.
“Shit,” Rawls said.
“That’s pretty much how I feel about it, too.”
“I guess we’ll just have to wait for Jake Burns to get back.”
“I guess so.”
“Thanks for coming this morning. Martha appreciated it.”
“I was glad to be there. Janey seemed particularly upset.”
“Yeah, Don was her favorite uncle; they were close.”
The fax machine rang and began to spit out pages.
“Hold on a minute,” Stone said. He went to the machine and retrieved two pages, then returned to the phone. “Sergeant Young faxed me Don’s phone records,” he said, looking over the pages.
“What’ve we got?”
“Not much. He called you a few times and a couple of other numbers.” Stone read them to Rawls.
“That’s Harley and Mack.”
“Then there’s the call to the WATS line, and that’s it for the past week.”
“Shit again,” Rawls said.
“Yeah. Do you have any idea at all whose criminal records Don could have been checking on?”
“Not a clue.”
“Do Harley and Mack have security systems in their houses?”
“Harley does. Mack’s having one installed today.”
“Good. Make sure they both use them, will you?”
“Don’t worry; they won’t need any prodding.”
“Talk to you later.” Stone hung up and returned to his coffee. Arrington was on her knees on the floor next to Peter.
“What are you copying, honey?” she asked.
“A book,” he said.
“Where did you get it?”
“I found it in a desk drawer in my room.”
“Can I see it for a minute?”
“Sure.”
Arrington picked up the book, which was bound in leather, and flipped through it slowly. “Peter, this is somebody’s diary.”
“It is?”
“Yes, and a diary is a very private thing. You shouldn’t be reading it.”
“I wasn’t reading it. I was just copying.”
“Well, I think you should find something else to copy.”
“All right.” Peter gathered up his papers and went upstairs.
Arrington handed the book to Stone. “It’s the diary of somebody called Esme Stone,” she said, handing it to him.
“That was Dick’s daughter,” he said.
“Perhaps you should put it away somewhere.”
Stone looked at the book. Esme’s name was stamped in gold on the cover. It had probably been a Christmas or birthday present from her parents. He flipped through it, marveling at the beautiful handwriting, then closed it. He shouldn’t be reading it any more than Peter should.
Stone went to the cupboard where the safe was, opened it, put the diary inside and closed it again. Next time they built a fire, he would burn it, and Esme’s secrets would be safe.
Chapter 29
AFTER LUNCH Stone remembered that he had not gone for the New York Times, and he asked Peter if he’d like an ice cream cone.
“I think I can handle that,” Peter replied.
Stone laughed. “I bet you can.”
They got into the MG and started for the village.
“I like this car,” Peter said. “What kind is it?”
“It’s called an MG,” Stone replied, “and it’s old. It was built a long time before you were born.”
“Where did you buy it?”
“I didn’t buy it. It belonged to my cousin Dick, and when he died, he left it to me.”
“My mom has a Mercedes SL 55,” Peter said, “and it’s very fast, but it’s not as…” He seemed to search for a word. “Elegant as this.”
“That’s a good word for it,” Stone said. “You have a very good vocabulary for a boy your age.”
“That’s what my teacher told me.” He pointed out the window. “What’s that pond?”
“It isn’t a pond, really. It’s a little cove, saltwater. A long time ago there was a resort hotel on the shore over there, and they built a kind of dam to keep water in the cove when the tide was out so the guests could swim. The hotel burned down, but the dam is still there.”
“Why did it burn down?”
“I imagine it was a wooden structure, covered in shingles, like most of the houses on the island, and it’s easy for them to catch fire.”
They were approaching the Dark Harbor Shop, and Stone could see three state police cars parked in front of it. He wondered what could possibly have happened on the island that would require three state police cars.
Stone and Peter went into the shop, and Stone set Peter on a stool at the soda fountain and told him to order whatever he wanted, then went to the rear of the shop to get a paper. Jimmy Hotchkiss’s office was crowded with state police officers, and Stone couldn’t hear what they were saying. He went back to the soda fountain. “What’s going on with the police?” he asked the girl behind the counter.
“A little girl has disappeared,” the girl said, “and I think they’re organizing a search party.”
Stone started to ask the little girl’s name, but it occurred to him that he wouldn’t know her or her family, in any case. He paid for his paper and Peter’s ice cream, and they got back into the car.
“Do you think they’ll find the little girl?” Peter asked.
“I expect so,” Stone said. “It’s not all that big an island; she probably just got lost in the woods.”
They drove on toward the house, and as they pulled into the driveway, Stone saw Ed Rawls getting out of his Range Rover.
“Hey, Ed,” Stone said, “have you met my… friend, Peter?”