“One thing,” Billy said, “is that they were both armed.”
“With what?”
“Pistols. He was wearing a shoulder holster under his left arm, and I got a look into her bag, and there was a little, pearl-handled job in there.”
“They’re New Yorkers, right?”
Dino broke in. “Right, they are. And they’re clean — not even an old parking ticket.”
“See if they have carry licenses,” Stone said.
Dino typed some more.
“Carry licenses are very difficult to get in New York,” Stone explained to Billy.
“Yes,” Dino said. “He does, not she. And it’s only a few weeks old.”
“Can you get a look at their application?” Stone asked.
“That will take a little longer,” Dino said “Some more coffee might help.”
Stone poured him more.
“Got it,” Dino said.
“What did he give as a reason?”
“Says he has a crazy patient who has repeatedly threatened his life.”
“I’ve never heard of a dermatologist with a murderous patient,” Dino said.
“Who has?”
“Something else. His application includes a letter of recommendation from my chief of detectives. That’s why he got the license.” He dialed a number. “Hey, it’s Dino. Is he in?” He listened. “Okay, do you know if he knows a dermatologist named Smith Peterson?” He listened. “Thanks, Christine.” Dino hung up. “He’s up the Amazon on a cruise ship, but his secretary says that Peterson is a friend from college days.”
Stone looked at Billy. “He’s got a crazy patient, and he knows the chief of detectives. You see anything hinky in that?”
Billy shook his head. “Nah, it’s just a feeling, and I can’t shake it.”
“Are the Petersons still on the island?”
“I don’t know. They were staying at the inn.”
“Why don’t you arrange to bump into them somewhere and put your nose back to work? Call me, if you learn something.”
Billy finished his coffee and left.
“Maybe Billy is crazy,” Dino said.
“I’ve never thought so, but he’s very good at reading people.”
“A valuable skill in a real estate guy.”
“He told me once that he could always separate the lookers from the buyers,” Stone said. “Right away.”
“Apparently, he can separate the hinky from the normal, too,” Dino said. “He just doesn’t know why.”
50
Billy found the Petersons where he expected them to be — where he, himself, would be if he had just bought an expensive property. They were on that property, walking around the exterior of the house.
“Good morning, Billy,” Smith said.
“Morning, Smith. Morning, Coco.”
“We were just having another look around, seeing if we missed anything.”
“And did you?”
“Well, there’s the Jacksons’ car, the Mercedes station wagon. I phoned the lawyer whose number you gave me, and we made a deal. I’m sending him a check, and he’s sending me the title.”
“Excellent.”
“Billy, do you have a key to the house with you?”
“I believe I do. Let me look.” Billy went to his car, opened the center console, and found the key, properly tagged. “Come on, I’ll let you in.”
“We’re going to be a while, I think,” Smith said. “Do you mind if we keep the key?”
“I guess that’s all right,” Billy said. He walked back to his car, passing the Petersons’ rental car. He hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a leather pouch for a long weapon, a rifle or a shotgun, on the rear parcel shelf. He wondered how they traveled with that.
Smith came out on the upstairs porch and looked around.
“Oh, Smith,” Billy called. “How did you folks travel here?”
“We have some friends who have a King Air they keep in New Jersey. Their pilot flew us directly to the island, where we called for a rental car.”
“Will they come and get you when you leave?”
“Probably. We haven’t thought that far ahead.”
Billy gave them a wave and drove away in his car. Easy to bring a weapon on a private plane, he thought. Still, Peterson hadn’t mentioned any intention to do some hunting, and that wasn’t allowed on the island, anyway.
He got back to the store, then retrieved the Petersons’ file. Time to put the closing package together. Some of the papers had gotten combined with the Jacksons’ file, and he sorted them out. As he did, something caught his eye, something in the brokerage agreement they had signed.
Grace Jackson had filled out their information sheet and signed the brokerage agreement. She had signed it Grace P. Jackson. He sat down at his computer and entered Grace P. Jackson obituary into the search bar. One came up immediately, the kind submitted by the funeral home. Grace’s maiden name was Peterson, and her only sibling was a brother, Smith Ames Peterson, MD. Billy printed the obit and took it with him.
He drove over to Stone Barrington’s house and rang the bell. “I know,” he said when Stone opened the door, “you’re seeing too much of me.”
“Not at all, Billy. Come right in.”
Stone could see that Billy had found something. He was practically bursting to tell him.
Dino came into the room and joined them.
“What is it, Billy?”
“I found out a little more about the Petersons,” he said. “Look at this obituary.”
Dino stood behind Stone, and they both read the obit.
“Grace’s maiden name was Peterson?”
Billy nodded. “And she had one sibling: Smith Peterson.”
“And you consider this hinky?” Dino asked.
“A little out of the ordinary,” Billy replied. Grace and Henry Lee Jackson pretend to buy the house for Stone, then they...”
“Were murdered,” Stone said.
“Not too long after that, Grace’s brother shows up, looks at two houses and buys yours immediately.”
“Did he inquire about who lived across the road?”
“Not only did he inquire, but if you’ll remember, he walked over there and introduced himself to Eben.”
“And offered to withdraw from the sale, if the twins still wanted it?”
“Right. Oh, and something else. The Petersons traveled here in a friend’s King Air, directly to our airfield.”
“What’s hinky about that?” Dino asked.
“He brought a long weapon with him. It’s on the parcel shelf of his rental car. I’m sure you know, Stone, that the shooting of firearms is prohibited on the island. Indeed, anywhere in Maine except hunting areas and only with a hunting license. Nobody hunts on the island.”
“Rifle or shotgun?”
“Couldn’t tell; it was in a leather pouch.”
“That smell wasn’t fish, Dino,” Stone said. “Maybe it was revenge.”
“What should we do about that?” Dino asked.
“We should get out of Smith Peterson’s way,” Stone replied.
Billy lifted his hands, as if in surrender. “I was never part of this conversation,” he said, taking the documents from Stone, “and I don’t remember anything said. Good day, gentlemen.” Billy fled the house.
51
Stone and Dino got into the MG and drove down to Ed Rawls’s house. They were admitted through the gates.
Ed was sitting on his front porch, working on the Times crossword. “Gents,” he said.
“May we have a word, Ed?”
Ed looked at them suspiciously, but waved them to chairs. “Is this trouble?”
“Not necessarily,” Stone said. “It’s just that some new information has come to light, which might affect our actions.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“We may have some competition in dealing with the twins.”