Cold Paradise (Stone Barrington 7) - Page 166

“As much as I’d like to, I think we have to be a little more subtle than that,” Dino said. “But not much.”

61

STONE STOOD IN FRONT OF THE LIVING ROOM FIREPLACE in Thad Shames’s house and regarded the decidedly mixed group of men and women who stood around him, dressed—or half-dressed—in what each of them understood to be evening clothes.

Behind him, propped on the marble mantel, was a crude drawing of the house and grounds that he had done himself with a Magic Marker in black, with other colors for various personnel. He felt quite proud of it, in fact.

“Okay, everybody listen up,” he said. “You see here an outline of the place—house, gardens and yacht. There are sixteen small circles, in red, denoting employees of Rightguard Security. Jeff Collender will assign each of you to stations, and, once we’ve swept the grounds, you are to maintain those stations. Pick up a drink from the bar so you’ll look at least a little like a guest, and the drink will be iced water, soda, tonic or soft drink—no booze. Eight of you, four men and four women, will roam the house and grounds as couples. Jeff will assign you areas to patrol.

“The green circles denote Palm Beach police officers—two at the curb to control traffic, one at the door to display a little authority to anyone contemplating gate-crashing, especially unauthorized members of the press, and to handle the metal detector. Authorized press people will be wearing photo IDs on strings around their necks. If you see anybody taking notes or photographs who is not wearing this tag, firmly request the ID card and, if it is not immediately forthcoming, escort him or her from the premises. If possible, take such people either through the center hall of the house or around the sides to the street. If they become obstreperous, turn them over to a police officer on the street, who will arrest them for trespassing and place them in a police van.”

He pointed to his colleagues as he listed their names. “Chief Dan Griggs, Jeff Collender of Rightguard, Lieutenant Bacchetti and I will be

known as the ‘management group’ and will be roaming the house and grounds. Everybody has been issued a lapel pin—green for Rightguard Security, red for Palm Beach Police, black for management group. You may also see some people with yellow lapel pins, but they are separate. Each of you has been issued a two-way radio, tuned to channel six. You understand that the use of radios is to be confined to sightings of Paul Manning. There is to be no unnecessary chat on the radios; there are too many of us for that. Paul Manning is six-feet-three or -four, two hundred pounds, dark hair going gray, moderately long. We have no photographs or sketches of him. If you spot a man answering that description, say the word ‘bogey’ into your microphone and give the specific location. If you see a weapon, either in his hand or on his person, say, ‘gun,’ into the radio. Keep it as short as you can while conveying the information you need to. After that, speak into the radio only if the subject changes position or if you are asked questions by one of the management group.

“Each of you has two sheets of paper with the entire guest list printed on them. If you have reason to suspect that a visitor is uninvited, politely request his or her name and refer to the list. If the name does not appear, ask the person to accompany you to the front door by one of the routes already mentioned, and turn him or her over to a police officer, who will determine if that person is, in fact, invited. It is possible that some invited guest may bring along another, uninvited guest. If an invited guest intercedes on behalf of such a person, do nothing, but make a note of the name on your guest list. Apologize for any inconvenience.

“Everybody insert the radio earplug for a sound check.” He waited while they did this. “This is a test,” he said into the microphone concealed in his left hand. “Anybody didn’t hear that, raise your hand.” No hands went up. Thank God the equipment was working.

“Now, let me tell you the policy on firearms. You are all carrying concealed weapons. You are not to take out that weapon, unless you see a weapon in the hand of someone not in this room now, such as the subject, Paul Manning. If you do see a weapon and produce your own weapon, you are not to fire unless you feel sure that the subject is threatening to fire. You are not to fire unless you have a clear shot. You are not to shoot any guest. I hope that is perfectly clear.” That got a laugh. “You might remember that if you fire a weapon this evening, you are going to have to answer to the police and, maybe, the courts for your actions. If you are in doubt about whether to fire your weapon, keep that in mind.

“Finally, if you spot the subject or any other threat, do not head for the bride and groom. Four Palm Beach detectives will be assigned to accompany them everywhere they go. Instead, head for the subject, and be ready to use physical force to disarm or disable him. Any questions?” Stone looked around at each face. Nobody spoke.

“All right, if you don’t already have an assigned station, get one from the management group. As soon as you have your assignments, we’re going to start at the seawall, and in a straight line, at arm’s length, we’re going to sweep the entire property, check every bush, every flower bed for any unwelcome person or weapon.” Or bomb, he thought, but didn’t say. He walked over to where Jeff Collender stood. “Jeff, the man standing over to the side of the group, there.” He nodded toward a man in his twenties, barely encased in a white dinner jacket, with a head that had recently been shaved.

“Yeah, he’s one of mine. Jason.”

“Assign him to the seawall, to watch for anyone approaching the property in a boat. I don’t want him mingling with the guests. He’ll scare them to death.”

“Will do.”

“All right, everybody, let’s go out to the seawall and start back toward the house.” Stone led them out of the house and toward the yacht. When they were stretched out at arm’s length, he called to them, “Commence your search, and when you get to the house, re-form farther down that way and come back to the seawall. When that’s done, take up your assigned positions.” He looked at his watch. “It’s ten minutes to five. Guests will start to arrive at six, so move quickly but carefully.”

“Dan, Jeff, Dino, the four of us will search the house, starting at the top floor. When we get downstairs, Dino and I will take the kitchen.”

The four men walked back to the house, climbed the stairs to the third floor and went down hallways, knocking on every door, checking every room.

“Dan, your men at the door know that nobody enters the house except through the metal detector?”

“They know.”

“Okay, Dino, let’s check the kitchen.” Stone led the way, and they walked into a large, restaurant-style facility, teeming with people. He found the caterer, spooning caviar into a crystal bowl. “Mr. Weems?”

“That’s me.”

“My name is Barrington. I’m in charge of security.”

“How do you do?”

“I’d like you to walk around the room with me and confirm that every one of these people is known to you as a member of your staff.”

“Okay,” the man said.

Stone walked him around the room, then took him into the dining room, where a bar was being set up. “Do you know every one of these people?” he asked.

“Every one of them. They’re all mine. At the reception, we’ll have half a dozen people serving drinks who are not my regular employees, but they all come well recommended.”

“Thanks for your time.”

Tags: Stuart Woods Stone Barrington Mystery
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