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“Competition? On the island?”

“Recently arrived,” Stone replied.

“How recently?”

“Very. Now stop asking questions, and let me explain. Then you can ask questions.”

“Promise?”

“Shut up and listen, Ed.” Stone explained about the new buyers of his house and Billy’s research.

“So, you’re telling me that these people paid three and a half mil for your house, just to get a shot at the twins?”

“Not entirely. I think they may have heard about the house from the Jacksons and got interested. On the other hand, I think they knew that having the house would give them an opportunity to take a shot at the boys, while giving them a legit reason to be on the island. Who would believe they bought an expensive house merely to use it as a shooting platform?”

“Okay,” Ed said, “let’s assume that you’re not entirely crazy and that this guy, Peterson, is fairly sane, too.”

“Agreed on both accounts.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“I was hoping you might have a suggestion,” Stone said.

“Well, I’ve been working on this for some time now, and I’m attracted to the idea of ending the twins’ time on the planet. So why don’t you just tell Dr. Peterson to fuck off?”

“It would be rude to say that to a man who’s giving me three point five million,” Stone said.

“Are you saying that if I kill the twins before Peterson gives you the money, he might just drive off into the sunset, leaving you holding the real estate?”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but now that you mention it... That would be a consideration.”

“Well, if we wait until after Peterson hands you the cash, he would take possession right away, wouldn’t he?”

“I expect so.”

“Then that would rob us — and by ‘us,’ I mean me — of the ideal shooting platform, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“Of course, we could just leave the good doctor to clean up the situation for us, right?”

“Maybe.”

“‘Maybe’ is what I think, too. You know, dermatology is not, as I recall, one of the martial arts.”

“It is not.”

“So what if he misses? Or worse, what if he hits one twin, but not both?”

“Not desirable,” Stone admitted.

“Do we have any information on whether Dr. Peterson has ever squeezed the trigger of a loaded weapon?”

“We do not.”

“Or whether he has served in the military?”

“Not that, either.”

“If he has served in the military, and if we could somehow come across his service record, then we might learn how he fared on the rifle range.”

“I wouldn’t know how to access a man’s service record,” Stone said.

“I would,” Dino interjected. “But I’d have to go through channels, and in doing so would leave fingerprints.”

“Do you have any other biographical information that might help me pick him out of a lineup of a great many other Petersons?” Ed asked.

Stone thought about that. “His middle name is Ames. Betcha there aren’t too many Smith Ames Petersons.”

“It’s worth a stab,” Ed said. “Let me go rub my computer’s belly and see if it will cough up something to guide us.” Rawls left them.

“Okay,” Dino said when he had gone. “Suppose Ed comes up with a service record that says the guy can fire a rifle without shooting himself in the foot? What then?”

“I haven’t the foggiest,” Stone said.

52

Stone and Dino had been admiring the view for a quarter of an hour before Ed returned and dragged up his chair and shuffled through some papers he held in his hand.

“Well?” Stone asked after a while.

“Well... This Peterson is quite a fella.”

“We’re not looking for a character reference,” Stone said.

“Well, if you were, you’d get a glowing one.”

“From whom?”

“From near ’bout everybody who’s ever met him.”

“All right, Ed,” Stone said, trying not to sound exasperated, “tell me about the charms of Smith Peterson.”

“Academically, first in his high school, college, and med school classes. How’s that for a start?”

“Just swell. Can he shoot people dead without fainting?”

Ed held up a finger. “There’s more.”

“Okay, what else?”

“You know what he did when he got out of med school?”

“Did a dermatology residency, I imagine.”

“After that.”

“Was a missionary in the Amazon?”

“Next best thing: he joined the Marines.”

“Oh. You mean, he’s mentally unbalanced.”

“There was a war in Iraq, I think it was, and he thought it was his duty to serve.”

“Ah, a patriot.”

“I hope I didn’t hear a smirk in that description,” Ed said.

“You did not. It was sincere and heartfelt. Somehow, however, I think there’s more to this story, if I can pry it out of you.”

“Did I mention that his high school offered ROTC?”

“You did not.”

“And that he volunteered for it?”

“Go on. Please.”

“And that he was the best shot in his school? Same in college.”

“Wait a minute, he would have gotten an ROTC commission.”

“You’re right, but he wouldn’t take it. Instead, he joined the Marines as an ordinary enlistee. In his weapons training, he fired Expert in every weapon they threw at him.”

“Finally, we get somewhere.”

“He was snatched up and trained as a sniper.”

“Oh, boy!”

“He got a battlefield commission, due to his high intelligence and superior intellect. Did I mention his leadership qualities?”

“No need,” Stone said. “Goes without saying.”

“When his enlistment was up, he declined to reenlist, in spite of entreaties and promises of an eventual star or two on his shoulder, and guess what he did then?”

“I give up.”

“He became a dermatologist and excelled at it, opened his own practice with a partner, and got rich.”

“Every dermatologist’s dream, I would imagine.”

“Who cares? Point is, he’s highly qualified for the position he came here to fill, and he may be nearly as good a shot as I am.”

“So, are we going to encourage him or discourage him?”

“Discourage him,” Ed said firmly.

“Why?”

“Because all the shooting skills in the world don’t prepare a man to be a murderer.”

“Surely, he would have murdered many people in Iraq.”

Ed shook his head. “Those were kills, accomplished on orders from a chain of command. A man can be a killer, without being a murderer. Murder requires a different mindset. You, being an ex-cop, might call it a motive.”

“Revenge is a pretty good motive.”

“That doesn’t mean he can act on it with impunity.”

“I see, I think.”

“And it especially doesn’t mean he can get away with it. Billy Hotchkiss, you, and I all tracked him down in a matter of a couple of hours. How long do you think it would take the real police?”

“You have a point.”

“He certainly does,” Dino said.

“And all that academic and military training — all that financial success — will be for naught. He’ll spend the rest of his days in prison.”

“And yet, the Stone twins are walking around, free as the air they breathe.”

“Yeah, but they’re insane; Smith Peterson is as sane as you or I, maybe saner.”

“So what are we going to do about it?”

“There’s no ‘we’ in this, just you. You’re going to have to have a chat with Smith Peterson and talk him down.”