“I’ve taken the ferry so rarely that I don’t remember,” Stone said. “I nearly always fly onto the island. But having a bar for people who are only going to be on board for twenty minutes doesn’t seem like a working idea.”
“Okay,” Dino said. “You’re a working stiff who toils away on the mainland every day, and you get on the ferry to go home, and there’s a bar. You’re going to turn down a drink?”
“All right, that’s conceivable,” Stone said, “but only just. The kind of people who live on the island are not working stiffs.”
“And that kind of people don’t like a drink at the end of the day?”
“If they do, they have it at home or, maybe, at the yacht club. We need a better story.”
Nobody said anything.
11
That was a nice evening,” Vanessa said, when they had returned to Stone’s house for a nightcap. “Interesting people and conversation, even if it did seem to keep returning to John.”
“I’m told that, at NYU, he was always called Jack by those who knew him.”
“That was shortly before my time,” she said. “He introduced himself as John, so I always called him that.”
“Did you know a lot of people he knew at NYU?”
“No, I met him after he had gotten his law degree.”
“How did you meet?”
“Through one of his old professors, a man named Samuel Bernard.”
“Who was an active recruiter for the Agency over the years. Still is, for all I know. Is he how John was recruited?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me to hear that. He was Bernard’s great admirer.”
“So is everyone who knows him. He made a pass at recruiting me, but I had fallen in love with police work and was no longer a prospect. So John was already an Agency officer when you met him?”
“Yes, he had just completed his training at the Farm, which he wouldn’t talk about much. His first assignment was something at the UN — I never knew exactly what.”
“Probably something to do with the Russians,” Stone said, then he stopped himself with an idea.
“What?” she said. “You seem to have hit a roadblock.”
“Nothing much,” Stone said. “Anyway, I find you a more interesting subject than CIA recruitment.”
She kissed him lightly, and Stone’s index finger somehow came into contact with a nipple. “Now that was a good idea,” she said.
He did it again, and this time with more intent. Everything was a little blurred, until they were naked in bed and had already achieved an orgasm.
“Now I feel more comfortable with you,” Vanessa said.
“I should hope so. Is there anything else I can do that would make you even more comfortable?”
“As a matter of fact, there is,” she said, pulling him down to her.
The following morning, they had breakfast in bed and read the Times and watched Morning Joe. Stone’s phone rang, and somehow he knew who it would be. Vanessa excused herself for the bathroom, and Stone picked up the phone. “Good morning, Lance.”
“I hope I haven’t caught you during an awkward moment,” Lance said.
“It’s all right. The awkward moment just went to the bathroom.”
“Something occurred to me about your old and dear friend and classmate Collins,” Lance said.
“Funny, something occurred to me about him, too, though he was neither an old nor dear friend, nor a classmate.”
“You first,” Lance said.
“Russians,” Stone said. “Killing Collins sounds like something they would do, and pretty much the way they would do it.”
“Funny you should mention that,” Lance said. “The same thing occurred to me.”
“Why are we singing the same song so early in the day?” Stone asked.
“Because we often think alike. Haven’t you noticed that?”
What Stone had noticed was that if he had a good idea, Lance would adopt it as his own. “Not really,” he said.
“Did your dinner with the widow produce anything new?”
“Only that she met him shortly after he had completed his training at the Farm, and that his first assignment was at the UN. It was the mention of the UN that made me think of the Russians.”
“A logical leap,” Lance said, “if you thought of the off-campus Russians instead of the officials.”
“I did, but what would the Russians be doing in Maine?”
“Looking for Collins or, more likely, looking for you.”
“That had not occurred to me, and it’s an awful thought.”
“They have long memories,” Lance said. “I don’t suppose their presence could have anything to do with your houseguest at the time?”
“That was, as you know, a top secret event.”
“Except maybe over drinks at the Tarratine Yacht Club.”
“Certainly the summer people would gossip, if they caught wind of her presence.”
“Could Holly have been spotted on a boat with you, perhaps?”
“She always wore her hood up with sunglasses and no makeup, so probably not.”
“Let’s put that into the hopper and let it age for a bit. Let’s not forget the Russians, though. I’ll see what connections I can turn up.”
Vanessa returned from the bathroom.
“You do that,” Stone said, then hung up.
12
After breakfast and the bathroom, Vanessa’s thoughts lightly turned to more sex. Stone did what he could.
“Tell me,” he said as they lay on their backs, taking deep breaths. “Did John Collins ever speak of Russians, with regard to his work at the UN?”
“Sort of, but mostly he seemed not to want to talk about anything to do with Russians. He had an aversion to them.”
“Did he say why?”
“He once said that if the Russians knew he was CIA, they might want to harm him.”
“Did he say why they would want to do that?”
“He said they hated everything to do with the CIA, especially the people who worked for them.”
“But they didn’t know he was CIA?”
“No, or they would have harmed him.”
Stone thought that if he had enough sex with Vanessa, he might be able to figure out what John Collins was doing in Maine, and why he was killed.
“Did John ever say anything about Maine?”
“He said he had rented a little house there one summer before we met, and that we might like to go back sometime.”
“And did you?”
“No, he never mentioned it again, and I forgot about it.”
“Did he say where the house was?”
“In Lincolnville,” she said.
“That’s where the ferry to Islesboro runs from.”
“I know. He said he liked to ride the ferry to Islesboro and drive around. It was very beautiful, but he couldn’t afford a house there.” She looked at her watch. “I have to go to work.” She kissed him and left.
When Stone had showered, shaved, and dressed, he went down to his office and found Lance waiting for him, drinking coffee and eating a croissant.
“Good morning,” Lance said. “You didn’t tell me Helene made such wonderful croissants.”
“I thought you had probably worked your way through the menu here,” Stone said. “Are you just getting to croissants?”
“I need a full report on your activities of last evening,” Lance said.
“Why do I think your request applies only to sex?”
“Well, it’s very clear that that pump has to be primed before it produces anything, and you’ve just spent the night pumping.”
“Did you ever send John Collins to Maine?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because Vanessa says that he once rented a house for a summer in Lincolnville. I can’t think of any reason why he should summer in Maine unless you dispatched him there.”