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Shoot Him If He Runs (Stone Barrington 14)

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“British-sized passport photos,” Pepper replied. “Does either of the other two look familiar to you, Holly?”

Holly stared at both the photos. Pemberton had a military-style brush mustache, and Weatherby had a Vandyke, with mustache and goatee. “No,” she said, “not immediately. Is that a toupee?” she asked, pointing to Pemberton.

“Possibly,” Pepper replied.

“Definitely,” Stone said. “The hairline is too low for a man his age. But Weatherby’s hair looks real enough.”

“Gray,” Pepper said. “Pemberton’s looks gray, too, but Weatherby’s is whiter.”

“About the same weight,” Holly said, “but Weatherby seems to have had a broken nose at some point.”

“Did Teddy Fay have a broken nose?” Stone asked.

“Not that I can recall,” Holly said.

“You’ve met Teddy?” Pepper asked, surprised.

“Once, possibly twice,” she replied. “Both times disguised.”

“What about their chins?” Pepper asked.

“Hard to say, since Weatherby has a goatee.”

“Eyes?” Stone asked.

“They both have the wrinkles you’d expect in a man in his sixties,” Pepper said. “The ears aren’t dissimilar, but Pemberton’s stick out more.”

“You’re right,” Holly said.

“Look,” Pepper said, “we’re not going to be able to analyze these pictures here; it’s time to forward them to Lance; he’ll have Tech Services on them immediately.”

Holly shrugged. “I was just hoping we’d catch something that would give us a clue about one of them, something that would help make him Teddy. But there isn’t anything.”

“Shall I transfer them?” Bill asked.

“Can you print copies?”

“Sure, and in color.”

“Then shoot them to Lance.” She watched as Bill sent the e-mails, then printed the photos, handed them to Holly and closed the laptop.

“Nothing to do but wait, now,” he said.

Lance sat behind his borrowed desk, watching the faces of a group of a dozen men and women, while Hugh English spoke to them.

“I know you’ve all been expecting this at some point, ever since the death of Dick Stone, and now the time has come. A short time ago, the director told both Lance Cabot and me that Lance will be the new DDO, effective immediately. For those who haven’t yet met him, I’m pleased to introduce you all.” He ran through the introductions, while Lance consulted a list of names and photographs on his desk that he had already memorized. When English was done, Lance got up, walked around his desk and sat on its edge.

“I’m very pleased to meet some new people and glad to see again the ones I already know,” he said. “First, I want to thank Hugh English for postponing his retirement and so ably continuing in this office until the director had time to make a new appointment. Though I know Hugh is looking forward to his retirement, we’re going to miss his knowledge and his wisdom, and I hope he has imparted enough of both to you all, so that you can help me find my feet in this new job. It makes it tougher on all of us that we knew and worked with Dick Stone and that we will not have the full benefit of his experience.”

Hugh English stood up. “Excuse me, Lance, but I think my time to exit this stage has come.” He turned to the group. “Thank you all for your hard work over the years, and I hope you’ll give Lance the same level of dedication and loyalty that you have given me.” English shook hands with Lance, and without another word, he left the room.

Lance gave his departure a moment’s silence, then turned back to his audience. He indicated a cart filled with file folders, some of them very thick. “I’ve already begun to read these, and let me say that, so far, I’m very impressed with their completeness and lucidity. In a day or two, I hope to be up to speed on all operations, but I’m sure I’ll have some questions for most of you before that time. Any questions for me?”

A man in the rear of the room raised his hand. “Will you be working out of this office?”

“For the moment, until Hugh has had time to make his move, and a few alterations have been made. My extension number will be the same in both offices, though, so I won’t be hard to find.”

His laptop beside him emitted a small chime. “Excuse me a moment,” he said, turning the instrument so that he could see the screen. He looked back at his office. “Any other questions?”



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