Shoot Him If He Runs (Stone Barrington 14)

“What’s up?”

“I just ran into Margaret Tiptree at the supermarket.”

“Jim Tiptree’s wife?”

“Yes; he’s based at the embassy here.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Do you remember a young officer named Bill Pepper?”

“Yes, I outfitted him on his first mission for the Agency.”

“He’s here, too, undercover, in one of the offshore casinos, and that awful Colonel Croft has arrested him.”

“Oh, shit,” Teddy said.

“Jim is on the job, but I’m afraid Bill is going to be hurt before they can get him out. They arrested his wife, too.”

“Christ, I hate hearing that.”

“You’ve had dealings with Croft; is there anything you can do?”

Teddy was quiet for a moment. “Yes, there is, and I should have done it sooner,” he said. “I’ll speak to you later.”

Teddy hung up, remembering where Colonel Croft liked to have his lunch every day. He went to a shelf in his workshop and removed a slightly battered briefcase that was heavier than it appeared. He checked the contents, then closed it and headed for his car. He drove to Markstown, to a hilltop overlooking the town and, in particular, the Markstown jail. He drove up an overgrown dirt trail to a spot he knew: an old tower that had once been used for firespotting, dating to a time when there were more trees on the island.

He climbed the tower, being careful to avoid steps that were rotting, and when he reached the top he looked down onto the Markstown jail. The rambling building had been built as an outpost for the British army, and it was arranged around a parade ground, now planted with trees and flowers. It was like a little park, where employees would take their sandwiches for lunch.

Teddy wasn’t sure this was going to work, but it was all he could do. He hated Croft, and he had become weary of paying his bribes. This was something he had been contemplating for weeks; he had only hoped he would get the chance.

Colonel Croft made ready to rake Bill Pepper’s face with the riding crop.

“Go ahead, Colonel,” Pepper said. “Mark me up; the pictures will look great in the international press.”

The colonel’s normally impassive face creased, ready for a snarl, and he pulled the crop back even farther. Then, as he was about to swing, there came a pounding on the door.

“Colonel!” a muffled voice shouted from the other side of the door. “Please open the door at once!”

“I told you not to disturb me!” the colonel shouted back.

“It is an emergency!” the voice shouted back.

The colonel tossed the crop onto the desk and strode over to the door. He unbolted it and yanked it open. “What is it?” he snarled. Then he saw Tiptree, whom he knew from the American Embassy, standing behind the police officer.

“I know you’ve got an American citizen in there,” Tiptree said, shoving aside the policeman and walking into the office. He saw Bill Pepper. “Are you all right, Mr. Pepper?”

“Yes, but he’s got my wife strapped into a chair in the next room!” Pepper replied, getting up and going to the door. Tiptree followed him, and they both looked into the room.

It was empty of all furniture; everything was gone.

“A few minutes ago, this place was a torture chamber,” Pepper said.

“I believe you, Mr. Pepper,” Tiptree said.

“Mr. Tiptree,” the colonel said, placatingly, “there is nothing wrong here; I am merely questioning Mr. Pepper about his activities on the island. As you can see, he is unharmed.”

“He was about to use that on me,” Pepper said, pointing to the crop on the desk.