Выбрать главу

“All cash, a couple of weeks to close?”

Billy opened his notebook, took out an offer form and filled it in with lightning speed, then handed it to the man with a pen.

“It’s owned by a corporation?” the man asked, looking over the form.

“The owner is a very private person. He doesn’t want the transaction to make the papers, and frankly, neither do you. The summer folks here don’t want outsiders to even know about the island, and especially not who’s moving in and out.”

“That’s good for us,” the man said. He signed the offer and handed it back to Billy. “When will we know?”

“Maybe today,” Billy said.

“You mind if we just wander around for a few minutes?” the woman asked. “Pretend we own it?”

Billy smiled. “Sure. I’ll sit out on the porch and make some calls.” He went outside, took a rocker, and got out his cell phone.

“Hello?”

“Stone, it’s Billy. How are you?”

“Very well, Billy. You?”

“Me, too. I just had a word with Eben Stone, over at his house.”

“Yeah? What did he have to say for himself?”

“He said they had an accident last night, trying to light a gas camping stove.”

“Poor kids. Anybody hurt?”

“Eben was having a little shoulder pain.”

“I wonder why?”

“Who knows. Listen, I have some good news for you.”

“I always like to hear good news,” Stone said.

“I was out, showing some prospective buyers around, and they expressed an interest in your place.”

“This place?”

“No, the old Stone place. I walked them through, and they were impressed.”

“How impressed?”

“Three and a half million impressed, as is. All cash, close in a couple of weeks. Does that impress you?”

“Not to tears, but I guess that would get me out from under.”

“What do you say?”

“I say, call me late this afternoon.”

“They’re on the five o’clock ferry,” Billy said. “Keep that in mind.”

“I’ll call you in an hour,” Stone said, then hung up.

“What would get you out from under?” asked Dino, who had been listening.

“Billy got me an offer on the old Stone house. Three and a half million, furnished, as is.”

“Sounds like a deal to me.”

“How would you and Viv like to have a place up here?”

“We have such a nice place now, and the price is right.” Dino said, waving an arm. “Why would we want to move?”

Stone called Billy back. “Sell it,” he said.

“I’ll bring the offer by for your signature; be there in a few minutes.” He hung up.

Billy’s customers were out back someplace. He put his feet up and gazed around him. The Stone house was across the way, a little uphill from where he sat. He could see the twins moving around their bedroom.

His customers appeared on the porch. “We’re done,” she said.

“You certainly are,” Billy said. “Congratulations on your new house.”

“We got it?”

“You did. I’ll drop you off at the store, and I’ll go get the offer signed.’’

“Who are those guys across the road?” the man asked.

“The brothers who are renovating the house.”

“Are they twins?”

“Yep. Local characters.” Billy was about to tell them more, but thought better of it. “Let’s go,” he said, and they left. He’d tell them more when they were used to the idea of owning their brand-new home.

47

The new owner of the Jackson place walked across the road while his wife poked around their new house. There was a young man sweeping the front porch, and there were various workmen doing things here and there.

“Good morning,” the young man said.

“Good morning. My name is Smith Peterson. My wife, Coco, and I are going to be your neighbors across the road, and I thought I’d come and say hello.”

“Well, congratulations,” the young man said. “Come take a seat?”

Peterson walked up the steps and took a porch chair.

“I’m Eben Stone. My twin brother, Enos, lives here with me, but he’s upstairs working on something.”

“Don’t bother him,” Smith said. “There’ll be plenty of time when we’re moved in.”

“Soon?”

“Couple of weeks.”

“Where you folks from?”

“New York. I’m a dermatologist down there, but I’m beginning to take fewer patients these days. I reckon we’ll be out of the city in a year.”

“Well, you’ll get a wonderful summer up here, and a terrible winter.”

“Oh, we’ve got a place in Florida to take care of winter. Tell me, did I read something about you and your brother in the paper recently?”

“I expect so. Just about everybody did.”

“What was it about?”

“Well, some years ago, we killed our abusive parents.”

“I remember, now. You got a pardon, didn’t you?”

“A lot of folks took up our cause, and we were vindicated, so we came back to the island where we spent our summers growing up. We teach criminal appeals at Yale Law two days a week in the summers.”

“Was the house across the road where you grew up?”

“Yes, it was. We tried to buy it when we were released, but somebody outbid us.”

“Look, Eben, we don’t want there to be any hard feelings between us about our buying the house. If you and your brother still want it, we’ll withdraw our offer and look elsewhere for a place.”

“Well, that’s very kind of you, Smith. But I speak for my brother, too, when I say that we’re very happy in our new house, and we hope you’ll be just as happy in yours.”

“Thank you, Eben,” he said. “I’d better run. I see my wife coming.” He left and met his wife at their car. Eben Stone gave them a cheery wave as they drove away.

Stone went to the front door, let Billy Hotchkiss in, and waved him to a seat on the sofa.

“I’ve got the offer right here,” Billy said, handing Stone a folder.

Stone opened and read it. “Smith Peterson and his wife, Coco,” he said. “New York.”

“That’s right. He’s a dermatologist and plastic surgeon. What is it they say about dermatologists?”

“Their patients never die, and they never get well,” Stone said.

“That’s right. The Petersons can afford it.”

“Billy, how much have you told them about the provenance of the house?”

“You mean, about the twins?”

“And their connection to the house.”

“Well, they’ve got their own place now,” Billy said.

“They had their own place when they murdered the Jacksons,” Stone said. “Don’t you get the feeling that they don’t want anybody living there?”

“How much do you want me to tell them? What we know, or what we suspect?”

“Where are the Petersons now?”

“Over at the store, waiting for your signed acceptance.”

Stone looked at his watch: 3:30. “Call them and invite them over here for a drink.”

Billy rolled his eyes. “You’re going to ditch this sale.”

“Maybe not, but they’ll go into the deal with their eyes open.”

Billy reluctantly dug out his phone and called a number. “Mr. Peterson? Billy Hotchkiss. I’m over at the owner’s place, a short way from the store. He’d like to meet you folks. Can you pop over here? Good.” He gave them directions and hung up. “How are you going to approach this, Stone?” he asked.

“I don’t know. We’ll see.”

Shortly, the bell rang, and Stone let in the Petersons and introduced himself. “Got time for a drink?” he asked.

“Always,” Peterson said.