6 Stone Barrington Novels (172 page)

STONE WOKE
to the smell of absolutely nothing—no steak, no bacon. Maybe Billy Bob and his girl were sleeping in. Then, as he got out of bed, he noticed a sheet of his stationery on top of the pile of luggage at the foot of his bed. He picked it up.

“Hey, Stone,” it read. “I got to go to Omaha right away to set up a deal. Tiffany is going to her place. I'll be back at the Four Seasons tomorrow night. Let me buy you some dinner. Billy B.”

There was no date or time on it. He got himself together and went down to the kitchen for some breakfast, this time, his usual bran cereal. Helene, his Greek housekeeper, was tidying up.

“Good morning, Mr. Stone,” she said, in her heavily accented English.

“Good morning, Helene. You can clean the big guest room; the occupants have checked out.”

“Yes, sir,” Helene said, and she went about her work.

Stone was halfway through his cereal when he heard her scream. He ran toward the back stairs and met her halfway up, coming down.

Helene seemed unable to speak, but she was pointing up the stairs.

Stone ran all the way up to the top floor, which was more exercise than he had planned on that morning, and into the guest room. Tiffany was lying on her back in the bed, and he didn't have to look
for a pulse to know she was dead. Her eyes and mouth were open, and there were big bruises on her throat. When he felt for a pulse she was cold.

Stone stepped back and looked at her, then around the room. Nothing was in disarray; her clothes were hanging neatly in the closet, and the guest bathrobe she had worn at breakfast the day before was thrown over a chair. He found her handbag under the robe but didn't touch it. He went back to his own bedroom and called Dino.

“Bacchetti.”

“It's Stone.”

“Whatsamatter? You sound funny.”

“Billy Bob's girlfriend is dead in my guest room; looks like she was strangled.”

“Did you screw with the scene?”

“Of course not.”

“I'll be there with troops.”

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER,
there were cops, crime-scene analysts and EMTs all over his house. Stone sat in his study, answering questions from two cops, Morton and Weiss, while Dino watched and listened.

“Where is the note?” Morton asked.

“In the trash basket next to my bed, where I threw it after I read it.”

“Where is this Billy Bob guy?”

“The note said he had gone to Omaha. He's doing some kind of deal with Warren Buffett.”

“How do you know that?” Dino asked.

“First, he told me so; second, he's had two phone calls from Buffett, on successive days. I checked out the first one, and it originated from Buffett's residence in Omaha.”

“You check it out, too,” Dino said to the two detectives. “And talk to Buffett. We got a time of death, yet?”

“The ME is upstairs working on it,” Weiss said.

As if on cue, the ME came into the room, and he didn't waste any time. “Preliminary conclusions, death by strangulation, between nine and eleven, last night.”

Stone breathed a sigh of relief.

“Where were you between nine and eleven?” Morton asked.

“At Elaine's.” He pointed at Dino. “He can confirm.”

“I can confirm,” Dino said. “I got there a little before nine, and he was already there; I left a little before eleven, and he was still there.”

“I didn't leave until about eleven forty-five,” Stone said. “Elaine or the headwater, Gianni, can confirm that.”

Weiss had left the room, and he came back with Billy Bob's note, holding it by a corner in his rubber-gloved fingers. “It's on your stationery,” he said to Stone.

“I keep it on my desk in the bedroom, and in a pigeonhole over there.” He pointed at a bookcase in the corner. “I guess Billy Bob found it when he was looking for something to write the note on.”

A young man came into the room. “No prints,” he said.

“Whadaya mean, no prints?” Dino demanded.

“No prints anywhere in the bedroom or bathroom, not even the corpse's. It's been wiped clean, the whole area.”

“I like your purse,” Dino said, nodding at the bag hanging on the young man's arm.

“It's the corpse's. Her name is Hilda Marlene Beckenheim, lives in Chelsea. There's credit cards, a Pennsylvania driver's license, a thing of birth-control pills and enough condoms to start a whorehouse.”

“Hooker,” Dino said.

“I'm so glad her name isn't Tiffany,” Stone said.

“What?”

“Billy Bob introduced her to me at breakfast, yesterday, as Tiffany. One Tiffany in my life is enough.”

“Had you ever met her before that?”

“No, but I saw her at a party at the Four Seasons the night before last. Somewhere there's a photograph of her with Billy Bob. Oh, yes, and with the mayor.”

“The
mayor
?” Weiss asked.

“Don't worry, it's not a scandal; it's just a party photograph.”

“Where else in the house might Billy Bob have left his fingerprints?” Morton asked.

“On that note,” Stone said, pointing, “and in the kitchen. No, forget the kitchen, my housekeeper has already been in there this morning, wiping everything down. She's very thorough. By the way, she discovered the body. She's lying down in the second-floor guest room. Maybe she's recovered enough to talk to you by now.”

Weiss headed for the stairs.

Joan Robertson, Stone's secretary, came into the room. “What's going on?” she asked.

“Joan,” Stone said, “when did you last see Billy Bob?”

“Yesterday morning around ten, when he was on his way out. He said he had to go to Omaha, and he'd be back in the city tonight, at the Four Seasons.”

“Do you have any idea why he didn't come see me before he left?”

“I thought you had gone out. Were you in the house?”

“I was here, in the study, reading, all day.”

“When you didn't come down to the office, and when Mr. Barnstormer came down, I just assumed you had gone out.”

Dino spoke up. “Did you see him leave the house?”

“Yes; a driver put his luggage into a black Lincoln and they drove away.”

“How did you meet this Billy Bob?” Morton asked Stone.

“The head of the law firm I work for introduced him to me as a new client.” He gave the man Eggers's name and number.

“I was there for that, too,” Dino said. “Make a note; somebody took a shot at Billy Bob's limo the other night. DiAngelo caught the case; he'll give you details.”

“Billy Bob's original name was Barnstetter,” Stone said. “He says his grandfather changed it to Barnstormer, but it might help in running down his background. He came into Teterboro on a Gulfstream Four corporate jet, and he said an engine had to be replaced because of a bird strike.”

“Where in Texas is he from?”

“I don't know.”

“Anything else about him you can tell us?”

“He leaves a trail of two-dollar bills wherever he goes,” Stone said. “Tips, mostly.”

Weiss came back. “I called the Four Seasons Hotel. They know Barnstormer, and they have a reservation for him tonight, for a week.”

“Be there when he arrives,” Dino said.

TWO HOURS LATER,
the corpse was gone, and people were trickling out of the house. Stone took Dino aside.

“You'll notice I didn't bring Tiffany Baldwin into this.”

“I noticed.”

“Can we keep it that way?”

“I don't see why not; we can confirm your alibi without her.”

“Good; the press would be all over it, if her name came into play.”

“I'm not going to be able to keep your name out of the papers,” Dino said. “They're already outside your door.”

“Think you could give them a statement, exonerating me and saying I've left on a Caribbean vacation?”

“I'll see what I can do,” Dino said.

“I want to be there when your people question Billy Bob.”

“Let's have dinner; they'll call me when he gets in, and we'll go over there.”

“Tell them they're not to ask him any questions until I get there.”

“You think he needs to lawyer up?”

“Wouldn't you lawyer up, in the circumstances?”

STONE GOT TO ELAINE'S
first and made a show of asking for menus. Dino got there ten minutes later.

“Anything new?”

“Nah. Morton and Weiss are at the Four Seasons, waiting. You have a number for Billy Bob's airplane or his cell phone?”

“No, neither.”

“How about a home or office address?”

“Neither. Eggers doesn't have them, either; I called him.”

“You lawyers really keep track of your clients, don't you?”

“He's new, okay? Don't give me a hard time.”

“Somebody's got to do it.”

“Shut up and order a drink.” Stone nodded toward the approaching waiter. They ordered.

“Let's jump ahead in time,” Dino said. “Suppose Billy Bob can prove he was in Omaha. What does that do for you?”

“For me?”

“You were alone in the house all day with the girl.”

“The ME said she died between nine and eleven last night. I was here, remember?”

“That was a preliminary estimate,” Dino said, “before the autopsy. What if he comes back and says she died earlier or later?”

“You're just winding me up, aren't you Dino?”

“I'm just telling you to be prepared to answer some questions. If it turns out that the girl died at a different time, and you spent the whole day as the only two people in the house, well . . .”

“Well, what?”

“Was Helene there yesterday?”

“It was her day off.”

“Swell, you just might end up fucked.”

“Dino, I met the girl once, at breakfast yesterday. What motive would I have to kill her?”

“Well, let me put my detective hat on, here,” Dino said, scratching his head. “You fucked her; it went wrong; she pissed you off; you strangled her.”

“Get out of here.”

“Or maybe you were playing that game where you
almost
strangle somebody to enhance the orgasm, and you were just a tad heavy-handed.”

“Will you stop it?”

“Of course, maybe he hadn't checked the girl's neck for prints; maybe he'll find Billy Bob's there.”

Stone gulped. “Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“I touched her neck, feeling for a pulse.”

“How many fingers?”

“Two or three.”

“Well, I don't think we need to bother Billy Bob; I can just arrest you now and save everybody a lot of time and trouble. You want to cop to, say, man one? I'll speak to the DA.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Aw, come on, with good behavior—and you always behave well, Stone—you'd be out before it was time to collect Social Security. I mean, there was no malice aforethought. You didn't mean to kill her, right?”

Elaine came over and sat down. “What's up?”

Dino grinned. “We found a dead hooker in Stone's bed, and I'm going to arrest him as soon as we finish dinner.”

“
I
found her and called you,” Stone said, “and she wasn't in my bed, she was in the guest room.”

“Well, that's certainly daintier, isn't it?” Elaine said. “I'd never think Stone would have a hooker in his bed, but in the guest room . . . ?”

“All right, you two.”

“You think you know somebody,” Elaine said, warming to the idea, “but you never know about their secret perversions, do you?”

“Not until the guy does a hooker in the guest room,” Dino said.

Dino's cell phone rang, and he flipped it open. “Bacchetti. Yeah, I'm on my way, and don't question him until I get there.” He closed the cell phone. “Billy Bob's back.”

“But we haven't even had dinner,” Stone said.

“You don't have to come; I can go over to the Four Seasons and help my guys question Billy Bob. Come to think of it, you might be better off if you don't protect him too much. I'd just as soon bust him as you; I just want to clear the case.”

Stone threw down his napkin. “Let's go.”

“Did you get the check?” Elaine asked.

Stone threw some money on the table.

“American dollars! How nice!” She tucked the money into the top of her dress.”

“Watch it, Elaine,” Dino said. “Stone knows people at the IRS.”

“Get outta here, both of you,” she growled.

BILLY BOB
was sitting on the sofa of his large suite, watching a shopping channel, which was selling awful jewelry. “Hey, Stone, Dino,” he said. “What are these cops doing here? They wouldn't say anything until you got here.”

Stone crooked a finger. “Come with me,” he said. He led Billy Bob into the bedroom.

“What is going on?” the Texan demanded.

“Account for your movements yesterday,” Stone said.

“What? What for?”

“Billy Bob, we don't have much time. Tell me what you did and where you went after I saw you at breakfast yesterday.”

“You sound serious, Stone.”

“There are three cops waiting in the other room. Is that serious enough?”

“Awright, we ate breakfast and me and Tiffany went upstairs. Then I . . .”

“Did you have sex with her?”

“What?”

“Did you fuck her, Billy Bob? Let's have it.”

“As a matter of fact, I did. Then I got myself together, packed my stuff and left.”

“Why didn't you take her with you?”

“Well, she was kind of tuckered out when we finished, and she wanted to take a shower.”

“Was she in the shower when you left?”

“No, she was still in bed, but she was thinkin' about it.”

“Where did you go, then?”

“I went down to your office, but your secretary said you wasn't there, so I got in a car and went to Teterboro and flew to Omaha, to see Warren.”

“I thought you had an engine down.”

“Gulfstream service is real good; they flew one up and got it on there yesterday.”

“All right, we're going back in there, now. Tell them what you told me. Have you left anything out?”

“What the fuck is going on, Stone?”

“It's better if they tell you. Have you left anything out?”

“No, that's it.”

“All right, come on.” He led the way back into the living room.

“Have you rehearsed your client enough, Stone?” Dino asked.

“Ask him your questions.”

They asked their questions, and he gave the same answers he had given Stone.

“Can you prove you were in Omaha?” Detective Morton asked.

Billy Bob dug into a pocket and came out with a card. “Warren Buffett's office number is on here,” he said. “You can get him tomorrow morning. I happen to know he's out tonight.”

“Berkshire Hathaway,” Morton read from the card. “What's that?”

“It's just about the biggest investment company in the world,” Billy Bob said. “Now, I ain't sayin' another word until somebody tells me what the fuck is goin' on.”

“You didn't tell him?” Dino asked Stone.

“I wanted to give you that privilege,” Stone said.

“Billy Bob,” Dino said, “Tiffany was murdered in Stone's guest room some time yesterday. She was strangled. Did you have rough sex with the girl?”

“Hell, no, I was tender as a lamb!” Billy Bob said. “Who the hell killed her?”

“We were thinking you might tell us,” Dino said.

“Well, I sure as hell didn't kill her, and I don't have no idea who did! Why would I want to kill her?”

“Did you give her any money before you left her?”

“Yep, I gave her six thousand bucks, in hundreds.”

“There was no money in the room or in her purse,” Morton said.

“Well, there you go,” Stone chipped in. “You've got robbery for a motive. Somebody got into the house, robbed and murdered her.”

Morton took a packet from his pocket. “We're going to need a DNA sample,” he said.

“We'll stipulate that Mr. Barnstormer and the girl had sex yesterday morning, before he left.”

“We still need the sample. If a robber had sex with her, we'll need to differentiate the sperm.”

“Give them the sample, Billy Bob,” Stone said.

Billy Bob opened his mouth and let the detective run a swab inside his cheek.

“Is that it, gentlemen?” Stone asked.

“For the moment,” Morton said. “Don't leave town, Mr. Barnstormer.”

“Is he under arrest?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Billy Bob, you can go wherever the hell you want to, but keep in touch with me.”

“I'm gon' be in New York for at least four or five more days,” Billy Bob said, “maybe a week.”

Stone stood up. “Good. Get some sleep, and we'll talk tomorrow.”

Morton gave Billy Bob and Stone his card. “Call me if you think of anything else.” Stone took Billy Bob aside. “Give me the key to my house.”

Billy Bob dug into a pocket and forked it over.

“Now get a sheet of hotel stationery from the desk and write down your office and home addresses and phone numbers, your cell-phone number, the number of the phone on the airplane and your Social Security number.”

“Why?”

“Because I like to be able to contact my clients when the police come looking for them.”

Billy Bob went to the desk, wrote for a couple of minutes, put the paper in an envelope and handed it to Stone.

“Mind if we have a copy of that?” Dino asked.

“You can contact him through me,” Stone said.

They left Billy Bob to get some sleep, and Dino dropped him off at home.

“What did you think?” Stone asked.

“He was plausible,” Dino said. “But I wish I liked him more for the murder.”

“Why?”

“Then I wouldn't have to think about arresting you.”