Dark Harbor (Stone Barrington 12)

“I’m glad to hear it,” Stone said.

“What the hell was Dick expecting?” Rhinehart asked. “He must have spent fifty thousand dollars on security.”

“Dick worked for the State Department,” Stone said. “I think they had the work done.”

“State Department? More like the CIA or NSA,” Rhinehart said. “I doubt if the Secretary of State has this much hard-wired security.”

Stone shrugged.

“The problem, though, is the same as with any two-thousand-dollar installation: You leave a window cracked or just forget to arm the system, and all this security is useless.”

Stone nodded. “You have a point.”

“Is that what happened? Did Dick screw up and not arm the system?”

“Either that, or he let somebody in,” Stone said.

“The locks are something special, too. They’re Swedish, and they use a key that has magnetic points built into it as well as tumblers. I couldn’t pick one of them, and I’m pretty good.”

“I’ll bet you are,” Dino said.

“Hal,” Stone said, “do you have any theories about how or why Dick died?”

“Was anything taken from the house?”

“No.”

“You mean, nothing that you knew about was gone, but then, had you ever set foot in the place before Dick was killed?”

“No, and I wouldn’t have known what he had here. The caretaker and his wife would have known, though, especially the wife, since she cleans the place every day. The only thing she noticed amiss was that a vacuum cleaner was left by that door over there.” He pointed at the door to the terrace.

“So the killer cleaned up after himself.”

“It appears so, and he took the vacuum bag with him.”

“Did the alarm go off?”

“No;”

“Then it wasn’t armed, unless the killer had the code. What time of night did it happen?”

“Some time after midnight, according to the state police.”

“Anybody see anybody come or go?”

“No.”

“Nobody moves on this island after ten o’clock. It would be noticed if somebody was driving around. Maybe the guy came by boat.”

“That’s a good guess,” Stone said.

“You don’t think it was a local?”

“Do you?”

“Nah; everybody liked Dick. I mean, there are some folks on this island I wouldn’t trust with a gun after a few drinks, but nobody had anything against Dick; word would have gotten around. From what I read in the papers about the inquest, it sure sounds like a pro hit, doesn’t it?”

“More and more,” Stone said. “But I’d appreciate it if you’d keep that notion to yourself. I wouldn’t want the folks to start worrying about hitmen stalking their island.”