25
By lunchtime the fog had been reduced to a haze, and they had, maybe, a mile of visibility. Rawls resumed his position on the fantail and unsheathed his weapon again, this time affixing a small tripod under its barrel.
A steward brought him a Bloody Mary, but he declined it. “I love ’em, but they don’t improve my accuracy,” he said.
“Do you shoot a lot?” Stone asked.
“I’ve built an indoor range in what used to be a swimming pool on my property, which is good for handguns, and I bulldozed myself a big berm in the woods that gives me up to two hundred yards of clear shooting with the rifle. With the silencer, I don’t disturb the neighbors. I’ve shot a few moving targets, deer that have wandered onto my range, and I’ve distributed the meat to my neighbors, and that helps keep them calm. As I recall, you have a handgun range in your basement in New York.”
“True, but I haven’t fired a rifle for a long time, and I’m not sure what I could hit with it.”
“Firing a rifle accurately is pretty much having the time and patience to sight properly—and especially with a telescopic sight, it’s easier than a handgun.”
“What is this firearm you’ve got here?” Stone asked.
“A few dozen were made for the Agency a while back, and I managed to ‘lose’ this one on an operation. It’s sort of a combination sniper/assault weapon. A guy named Teddy Fay, who worked in Tech Support, designed it and built the prototype. As I recall, you knew him.”
“A little,” Stone said.
“The combination of extreme accuracy and the ability to go full automatic make it possible for a man to hold off an assault by, say, a platoon, if he has enough ammo. It has a nice feature I hadn’t seen before—you can set it to fire two rounds with one trigger pull. I think it increases the chances of getting a hit on a target, especially one that’s moving.”
“I’ll go check the radar,” Stone said. He went forward to the bridge and found Captain Bret making 12 knots again. Stone checked the radar. “Any sign of our pursuer?”
“He seems to be in and out of the picture, or it could just be more than one boat back there. It’s hard to know if we’re being followed. Stone, I hope it doesn’t get to be necessary to kill somebody. The state cops would be all over us for a week, and your cruise would be over.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that, Bret, but we’re not going to set ourselves up as targets. And having spent a lot of years as a cop, I know how to deal with them.”
“I’ll leave it to your judgment, then,” Bret said.
They dropped the hook off a small island for lunch, then Captain Bret came to ask where they wanted to go next.
“I think we’ll go home,” Stone said. “There’s no point in continuing if we’ve got somebody in our wake, ready to take a shot at us. The situation doesn’t lend any pleasure to cruising.”
“Right,” Bret said, “and I take your point. We’ll have you back on your dock by, say, six o’clock this evening.”
“That sounds good,” Stone said.
JOE TOOK another look through his binoculars at Breeze. “They’ve weighed anchor and are headed back in the general direction of Islesboro,” he said to Jane.
“Then why don’t we use our speed advantage to get back there and be waiting for them?” Jane asked.
“I think that’s the thing to do. They obviously know we’re trailing them, and they know we’re armed. As you say, just one clear shot is all we need.” He turned the boat and shoved the throttles forward. Soon they were making 32 knots.
STONE AND MEG went below for a nap after lunch but didn’t get much sleeping done.
“I don’t remember the last time I made love in the afternoon,” Meg said.
“Well, if we can keep you from working too hard, we can do more of this.”
She pulled him on top of her. “Let’s start now,” she said.
BY HALF PAST FIVE they were approaching Dark Harbor, and they dropped anchor on one side of the approach to get the tender in the water. Stone gave their bags to a crewman and went up on deck. To his surprise, Ed Rawls was still on the fantail, his weapon at the ready.
“We’re about home now,” Stone said.
“Right now is our most vulnerable time,” Ed replied. “We’re dead in the water, and there’s no fog to protect us. I can see four Hinckleys from here, any one of which could be the one shadowing us. They could just be lying in wait, ready for a clear shot. I think it would be a good idea if you got Meg into a jacket with the hood up. Her blond hair would be too easy to spot.”
“Good idea,” Stone said. She came on deck and he sat her down and asked her to wear a jacket.
“Are we still in danger?”
“Until we’re inside the house again,” Stone said.
Captain Bret approached. “The tender is ready, and your bags are aboard. We can take you ashore anytime you like.”
ED RAWLS put his rifle in the single-shot mode and slowly swept the line of boats moored outside the yacht club.
“OKAY,” DIRTY JOE said to Jungle Jane, “you want to take your shot?”
“I’ve got her in my sights,” Jane replied. “I’m just waiting for the captain to move away from her.”
THREE THINGS HAPPENED in quick succession: Captain Bret dropped a pen and bent to pick it up, Meg stood and began to move toward the boarding steps, and a crack was heard, simultaneous with the sound of breaking glass. Stone yanked Meg to the deck.
ON THE FANTAIL, Ed Rawls sighted, took a deep breath, let half of it out, and squeezed the trigger. A woman was the shooter, and there was a man behind her at the helm. His rifle made a tenth of the noise the rifle had. He stood up. “Somebody’s down over there,” he said, pointing toward a picnic boat a couple of hundred yards away.
STONE LOOKED back toward the yacht’s saloon: a corner window had a fist-size hole in it and around the corner there was an exit hole, bigger. He followed Rawls’s finger to the picnic boat, which seemed adrift now. “Bret,” he said, “I think you’d better call the state police and ask them to come by the boat and bring a stretcher.”
THE MAINE STATE POLICE didn’t arrive by boat; they were there in twenty minutes in a helicopter, which they set down on the water on its pontoons. Half a dozen people climbed out, and Captain Bret sent Breeze’s tender for them. Instead of coming directly to the yacht, they motored over to the picnic boat in question, weapons at the ready.
Stone could see them climbing aboard, and he picked up the binoculars. Everybody in the picnic boat’s cockpit was looking down. Then two of them got back into the tender and it motored back to the yacht.
Stone knew one of the men from a couple of years before; they shook hands. “That boat has been stalking us since yesterday,” Stone said, “and after we anchored we were fired on”—Stone pointed at the holes in the saloon windows—“and we felt it necessary for our safety to return fire.” Ed Rawls came over with his weapon, popped the magazine, cleared the breach, and handed it to the cop.
“What have you got over there?” Stone asked the cop, nodding in the direction of the picnic boat.
“We’ve got two corpses,” the man replied, “both dead of gunshot wounds.”
“I think you’ll find they were both struck with the same round,” Ed said.
“How’s that?” the cop asked.
“At the moment I fired, immediately after they did, they were lined up, just for a millisecond, and I fired only one round. The shooter was the woman.”
“What round does this thing take?” the cop asked, checking out the weapon.
“A .223.”
“Well, that would have enough muzzle velocity to take down both of them. What sort of weapon is this?”
“It’s custom-made,” Rawls said. “Until now, it’s only been fired at targets and deer that got in the way.”
“We’ll need it for a while for ballistics. Your round ended up in the man’s chest, after traveling through the woman’s head, so the ME can recover it.”
“Keep it as long as you need it,” Rawls said, “but I would like to have it back when you’re done.”
Stone addressed the cop. “Is it all right if we go ashore, to my house? You can catch up with us there if you have more questions.”
“Sure, go ahead, and I expect we will have.”
Stone, Meg, and Rawls boarded the tender and were taken back to his dock. Once inside the house, he lit a fire and gave everybody a drink.
“That’s three rounds to us,” Stone said to Meg. “Any idea what Mr. Bellini might try next?”
“Not a clue,” Meg replied.