Shoot Him If He Runs (Stone Barrington 14) - Page 11

Stone was about to do that when he heard a car screech to a halt and the door open and slam. “Stop that!” a man’s deep voice commanded.

The barrel of the weapon left Stone’s neck.

“Help them up,” the driver of the car said.

Someone put a hand under Stone’s elbow and helped him to his feet, along with the others.

“These people are my guests.”

Stone turned and saw Thomas Hardy walking toward him, smiling, his hand out.

“Thomas, I’m very glad to see you,” Stone said.

Thomas shook his hand and gave him a hug. “Let’s get your luggage into the car,” he said.

The policeman wearing dark glasses stepped up. “I require to see their passports,” he said.

“Of course, captain,” Thomas said. “Stone?”

Everyone produced a passport and handed it over. The captain motioned to a policeman who ran over and made a desk of his back while the captain stamped each passport, then handed them back to their owners. “My apologies,” he said, then with a wave for his troops to follow, walked away toward the small terminal.

“Thomas, let me introduce my friends: this is Dino Bacchetti, who used to be my NYPD partner; his girlfriend, Genevieve James; and my friend, Holly Barker.” He felt an elbow in his ribs. “Oh, uh, I’m sorry, this is Ginny Heller.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you all,” Thomas said. “Hop in, and I’ll drive you to the inn.” He leaned close to Stone’s ear. “Stone, you’d best learn the names of your women.”

“Right,” Stone whispered back. “I’ll explain later.”

The pilot finished loading the luggage into a Volvo station wagon. “Contact Mr. Cabot when you need me,” he said to Stone, “and on the way home you can fly right seat. That was my first solo flight in this airplane, and I didn’t want any witnesses.”

“Great job,” Stone said. Thomas started the car, and they drove away. “What was that all about, Thomas?” Stone asked.

“You’ll find that things have changed a bit in St. Marks,” Thomas said. “Since Sir Winston Sutherland became prime minister, the police take a greater interest in everyone than they once did.”

“It can’t be very good for tourism to do that to everybody who arrives.”

“No, it’s not, but they don’t bother the folks on commercial flights quite as much. They tend to look at every private airplane as a conveyer of drugs, and there is no faster way to get in trouble on this island than to possess illegal drugs.”

“Well, thanks for your help.”

“You’ll find things quite different at the English Harbour Inn, too. I’m a member of Parliament now, and I’ve prospered since the advent of Sir Winston, mostly because he likes my conch chowder, and, of course, because I pay him well under the table. I was allowed to buy some beachfront property from the government that’s adjacent to my own, and I’ve built a dozen cottages. You’re all in the nicest of them, and you’ll have your own housekeeper and butler.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“I bought the marina, too, and I’ve made improvements. You can even get wireless Internet on your yacht these days. The restaurant has been enlarged, and I got a new chef from England last year. I also started a liquor distribution company, so the wines are better than when you were last here.”

“Sounds like the advent of Sir Winston has brought all sorts of improvements.”

“He hasn’t been all bad,” Thomas said. “I’ve never learned to like the man, but he’s cracked down on crime, the roads have been improved, and the national income from tourism is up and headed higher, I think.”

“What’s the downside of Sir Winston?”

Thomas shrugged. “The payoffs are higher than with the last PM, but then so are the profits, and the police are more…observant of the citizens.” Thomas nodded toward the island’s central mountain in the distance; its top was shrouded in fog. “The old man is wearing his gray hair today,” he said. “Did you ever go to up to the top of Black Mountain?”

“No, I seemed to spend most of my time in a courtroom last time.”

“Ah, yes,” Thomas said, smiling. “I read about the exploits of the lovely Allison and her evil husband in Palm Beach a couple of years ago. They’ve been put away, I believe.”

“That’s so, and I’m glad to have had a hand in it. I had dinner with the president of the United States last night, and h

Tags: Stuart Woods Stone Barrington Mystery
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