56
S
TONE RAN UP TO THE BRIDGE, WHICH WAS COMPLETELY dark. “Find a light somewhere,” he said to Dino.
“I’m looking, I’m looking.”
Stone began feeling along the bulkheads for a switch. Suddenly, the lights came on, but dimly.
“I found it, but it’s not very bright,” Dino said.
“That’s okay, it won’t ruin our night vision.”
“What do we do now?”
“We’ve got to get the engines started,” Stone said. “Look for the ignition switch.”
“Right here,” Dino said, pointing. “Trouble is, there’s no key in it.”
“Then look for the key,” Stone said, starting to open drawers in the cabinetwork. He found no key. “We’ve got to get an anchor out.”
“How do we do that?”
Stone looked over the instrument panel. “On a yacht this size, there’s probably an electric windlass. Here it is!” He pressed the button, but nothing happened. “We need engine power for that, too.”
“What about the radio?” Dino asked. “Call somebody.”
“Good idea.” Stone found the VHF radio, switched it on and picked up the microphone. “Channel sixteen is the calling channel.” He changed the channel to 16 and pressed the switch on the microphone. “Coast Guard, Coast Guard, this is the yacht
Toscana, Toscana
. Do you read?”
Instantly a voice came back. “
Toscana
, this is the U.S. Coast Guard. What is your request?”
What was his request? He thought about it for a moment. “Coast Guard,
Toscana
. We’re adrift in the Intracoastal Waterway, and we need a tow. We have no power.”
“
Toscana
, Coast Guard. Sorry, you’ll have to call a commercial towing service for that kind of help.”
Stone looked at the ship’s clock on the bulkhead. “But it’s three o’clock in the morning,” he said. “Where am I going to get a tow at this time of night?”
“Sorry, but we can’t be of any help,” the Coast Guard operator said. “Good night, and have a good trip.” Then he was gone.
“Now what?” Dino asked.
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, why don’t we just wait until morning and flag somebody down?”
Stone pointed out the windshield. “See that?” he asked.
“What, the bridge? Sure, I see it; you think I’m blind?”
“We’re drifting down on it.”
“So what? We hit it, we’ll stop. Isn’t that what we want?”
“Dino, this is a two-hundred-and-twenty-two-foot yacht, and it weighs God knows how much. If we hit that bridge, either the yacht or the bridge is going to be very badly damaged, maybe both.”
Dino blinked. “Well, do something, for chrissakes!”
Stone pressed the button on the microphone again. “Any ship, any ship, this is the yacht
Toscana
, in need of assistance. Anybody read me?”
Nothing. Silence.
“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” Dino said. “What did you expect?”
Then a voice came over the radio. “
Toscana, Toscana
, this is
Winddrifter
. Do you read?”
“
Winddrifter, Toscana.
I read you loud and clear.”
“What’s your problem?”
“We’re adrift in the waterway with no power, and we need a tow, fast, to keep from hitting a bridge.”
“Sorry,
Toscana
. I’m halfway to the Bahamas. Afraid I can’t be of any help. Good luck.”
“You get the feeling we’re all alone?” Dino asked.
“Well, shit, we’ve got to do
something
,” Stone said.
“I’m wide open to suggestions.”
Stone looked outside the bridge and saw a large inflatable dinghy on deck. “There,” he said. “We’ve got to get that thing launched right now.”
“You mean we’re going to abandon ship?” Dino asked.
“No, no. Come on, follow me.” Stone opened the outside door and left the bridge. He ran forward to the dinghy, which appeared to be a good seventeen feet long. A big outboard motor was bolted to the stern. “Look, it’s already hooked up to the davit,” Stone said.
“To the what?”
“The davit, the cranelike thing.” Stone yanked a cover off a pedestal. “Here we go,” he said, switching on the electric motor. He tried the up switch, and the dinghy rose six inches, bringing its cradle with it. “Thank God it’s got its own power.” He set it back down on deck. “Quick, let’s get this thing unlashed.” He glanced at the bridge. It was beginning to look very large.
Dino fumbled with the ties. “Got this side undone,” he said.
“Mine, too,” Stone said. “Now, I’m going to get into the dinghy. You raise it higher than the rail, there, and use this joystick thing to swing it over the side. Then you push the down button.”
“I’ve never operated anything like this before,” Dino said.
“Think of it as a computer game.”
“I can’t do those, either.”
Stone hopped into the dinghy. “Okay, let’s go.”
Dino started to work the controls. He raised the dinghy three feet off the deck.
“Right, now use the joystick.”
Dino did something, and the dinghy began to move sideways at an alarming rate. Stone nearly fell out. “Slowly!” he yelled.
“I thought you were in a hurry,” Dino said.
“Gently. Don’t throw me out of the dinghy.”
Dino tried again, and this time the dinghy moved smoothly over the rail and hung, suspended, six or eight feet above the water.
“Great, now with the down button.”
Dino found the switch, and in a moment the dinghy was in the water. Stone unhooked the cable and was adrift. “Put the davit back in the same position we found it in,” he called to Dino.
Dino followed Stone’s instructions. “Now what?” he called.
A light breeze had sprung up, and Stone was drifting rapidly away from the yacht. “Find a long rope!” he yelled, “and go to the bow!”
“Where?”
“Up front to the pointed end.” Stone felt around the instrument panel for the ignition key and found it. He tried starting the engine. It turned over but didn’t start. He made his way to the stern of the dingy, found a gas tank with a fuel line leading to the engine, and pumped the attached rubber bulb a few times. Then he returned to the controls and tried again. The engine started.
Stone put the thing in gear and headed for the bows of the yacht, which was now turning sideways. Then he glanced over his shoulder and found that, in the time it had taken to launch the dingy, they were nearly to the bridge. The yacht was about to hit not one, but two of the bridge’s supports.
He did the only thing he could think of. He gunned the engine and attacked the bows of the big yacht, as if the dinghy were a tugboat. Gradually, the bows of the yacht began to turn upstream, and a moment later she passed, backward, under the bridge.
Stone could see Dino standing on deck. “Did you find a rope?”
“Yeah, a big one, too.”
“Make one end fast and throw me the other end.” A moment later, a large coil of heavy rope hit Stone in the back of the head, knocking him down.
“You trying to kill me?” he yelled at Dino. He struggled back to his feet.
“You said throw you the other end.”
“I didn’t mean two hundred feet of it!” Stone paid out forty feet of rope, then made it fast to a stern cleat. “Okay, I’ve got it,” he yelled.
“What do I do now?”
“Go back to the bridge and steer the boat.”
“Steer it where?”
“Just keep it headed upstream behind the dinghy!”
“Okay, okay.” Dino went aft toward the bridge.
“And when we pass back under the bridge, don’t let the yacht hit it!” Stone screamed.
“Thanks,” Dino called back. “I needed to be told that!”
Stone put the engine in gear and slowly went forward until the rope was taut. For a long moment nothing happened. He applied more power and finally, the dinghy began to move forward an inch at a time, then a foot. The bows of the yacht fell into line behind him, and he aimed at the center of the bridge.
Slowly, with the outboard engine making a loud racket, the yacht moved under, then away from the bridge.
“What now?” Dino yelled from the bows.
“Go back to the wheel! I’m going to try to bring the yacht alongside where we were tied up before. Find some more ropes, and as soon as we’re by the seawall, make one end fast to the yacht and jump ashore with the other end!”
“Okay!” Dino yelled, and went aft again.
The seawall came into sight now, illuminated by a dock light and the lights on the garden paths ashore. Stone could see Juanito and the yacht’s skipper standing on the wall, looking at them. He towed the yacht past the seawall, then, very slowly, made a 180-degree turn and started back toward the yacht’s berth.
“Easy!” somebody yelled from ashore. “Cut your power, and she’ll drift in.”
Stone did as he was told. Gradually, the big yacht drifted toward the seawall, then Dino was throwing ropes to the men ashore. Five minutes later, the yacht was secure.
Stone scrambled up a ladder to shore and tied the dinghy to the ladder.
The skipper approached. “What the hell happened? Did you decide to go for a cruise?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Stone said. “I was asleep, and somebody cut our lines.”
“Untied them,” the skipper said.
Dino walked over. “Yeah, they were just hanging in the water.”
“I tried to start the engines,” Stone said, “but we couldn’t find the ignition key.”
“In my pocket,” the skipper said, holding up the key. “Well, she’s secure, now. Why don’t you go back to bed, and we’ll try to figure this out in the morning.”
“Good idea,” Stone said, and he and Dino trudged back aboard.
“Are you thinking Dolce?” Dino asked as he paused at his cabin door.
“Maybe. Or maybe our friend Manning.”
“Some friend.”
“Yeah.”
The two men said good night and went to bed. It took Stone a long time to get to sleep.
57
S
TONE AND DINO BARELY MADE IT ON DECK IN TIME FOR lunch the following day. They had the afterdeck to themselves, and they had just finished their omelettesto themselves, and they had just finished their omelettes when two men in suits emerged from the house and made their way toward the yacht.
“Ten to one they’re FBI,” Dino said.
“No bet,” Stone replied. He knew how Dino hated FBI agents, and his own experience with them as a cop had not been wonderful.
“Nobody else looks quite like that. What the hell do they want?”
“I think we’re about to find out,” Stone said, as the two men came up the gangplank.
“Either one of you Lieutenant Dino Bacchetti of the NYPD?” one of them asked without preamble.
“Who wants to know?” Dino asked.
Both men whipped out ID.
“Wow, I’m impressed. I’m Bacchetti. Why are you disturbing my vacation?”
“We want to ask you some questions,” the first agent said.
“See me in my office in New York,” Dino said. “I’ll be back next week.”
“It’s in connection with a bank robbery in Arlington, Virginia, four years ago,” the man said.
“I didn’t do it,” Dino said, “and I can probably come up with an alibi.”
The man turned to Stone. “Who are you?” he demanded.
Stone started to reply, but Dino interrupted. “None of your fucking business,” he said. “Now get off my yacht.”
The agent looked around. “Yours, huh? Pretty fancy for a New York cop. I wonder what your Internal Affairs people would have to say about this.”
Dino began laughing, and so did Stone.
“What’s so funny?” the agent asked, annoyed.
“You be sure and mention my yacht to Internal Affairs,” Dino said. “I’d enjoy their reaction. Now, will you people go away?”
“Look,” the agent said, “maybe we got off on the wrong foot, here. My name is Miles, and this is my partner, Nevins. We’d really appreciate your help, Lieutenant Bacchetti.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” Dino said expansively. “Have a seat.” He kicked chairs in the agents’ direction, and they both sat down.
“Can I get you something?” Dino asked, the generous host, now that he had brought the two men into line.
“No, thanks,” Miles said.
“What can I do for you?” Dino asked.
“A couple of days ago, your office in New York ran a match on some fingerprints in our computer.”
Dino said nothing.
“Isn’t that right?”
“If you say so. We probably run prints a dozen times a day.”
“You ran a set of prints that matched with a thumbprint we got from a note passed to a teller in a bank robbery in Virginia.”
“So?”
“We want to know where you got the prints.”
“Didn’t you ask my office?”
“They wouldn’t tell us. They said we had to talk to you, and you were in Palm Beach, so we drove up here from Miami this morning.”
“How much did the bank robber get?” Dino asked.
“About thirty thousand, I think. I’m not sure.”
“Let me get this straight,” Dino said. “You two guys got into your government car and drove all the way up here from Miami, using government gas, in pursuit of a guy who got thirty grand from a bank four years ago?”
“That’s right,” Miles replied.
“Well, Agent Miles, I’m not too sure I approve of the way you people are spending my tax dollars,” Dino said.
“I don’t understand,” Miles replied.
Stone spoke up. “Neither does Lieutenant Bacchetti. He can’t figure out why you fellows are making this kind of effort to track down a penny-ante, walk-in bank robber who the bank won’t even make the effort to prosecute.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name,” Miles said.
“Stone Barrington.”
“Well, Mr. Barrington, bank robbery is a very serious crime.”
“Gee, the bank doesn’t think so. When you catch this guy, they won’t even send somebody down to court to testify against him.”
“No matter what the banks think, the FBI considers bank robbery to be a very serious crime,” Miles said. “It eats away at the roots of our economic system, if we let people get away with stealing even what you consider a small amount from a bank.”
“No kidding?” Stone said.
“What else did this guy do?” Dino asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“Come on, Agent Miles, you’re not here about a bank robbery. What did the guy do?”
“That’s confidential.”
“I’m a police officer. Mr. Barrington, here, used to be a police officer, and now he’s a distinguished member of the bar. You can tell us.”
“Those are not my instructions.”
“What
are
your instructions?”
“I’m, ah, not at liberty to say.”
“Well, Agent Miles, if you want information from me, you’d better be at liberty to trade a little information.”
“Lieutenant, why are you being so difficult about this? All we want is to catch a bank robber.”
“No, that’s not all you want. You want to catch an entirely different animal, and I want to know the species.”
Miles took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. “Lieutenant, you’re interfering with an FBI investigation.”
“Oh? Well, I’m terribly sorry. Did it ever occur to you that you might be interfering with
my
investigation?”
“I think a federal investigation takes precedence.”
“That’s what you guys always think,” Dino said. “You never think that something the NYPD is investigating might be as important as what the FBI is investigating.”
“That’s not true,” Miles insisted.
“They’re not going to tell us anything, are they?” Dino asked.
“Doesn’t look like it.”
“Then why should
we
tell
them
anything?”
“I can’t think of a good reason,” Stone said.
“This is obstruction,” Miles said indignantly. “You obviously know something about this perpetrator.”
“I didn’t say that,” Dino replied.
“Neither did I,” Stone said.
“Look, Lieutenant, I could take this to your superior,” Miles said.
“Oh, my captain would love that,” Dino said. “Assuming you could even get him on the phone, he’d love you wasting his time about some dime-a-dozen bank job. He’d really call me in on the carpet about that.”
“How about this, Agent Miles,” Stone said. “Why don’t you just tell us why the checking of this guy’s prints would raise a flag on the FBI’s computer system? It can’t be just this bank robbery.”
“If I told you that . . .” Miles stopped and thought better. “I can’t tell you that,” he said.
“Agent Miles,” Dino said, “I’m trying hard to see some reason why I should help out the FBI, which wouldn’t cross the street to help
me
out on an investigation.”
Miles produced his card. “Here’s my number,” he said, handing the card to Dino. “I’ll owe you one. A big one. Anytime you need a favor from the Bureau, you can call me.”
Dino took the card. “How about you, Agent Nevins? Are you going to owe me one, too?”
Nevins produced a card and handed it over. “Yes, yes, I am.”
“Well, now we’re getting somewhere,” Dino said. “Stone, tell the agents what you know about this guy.”
“His name—or at least, one of his names—is William Charles Danforth, of a P Street address in Washington, D.C., a town with which you are no doubt familiar. Some years ago his name was Paul Manning, and he was a well-known author.”
“Have you ever seen this man?” Miles asked.
“Yes, a couple of days ago.”
“Can you give me a description?”
“Late forties, six-three or -four, two hundred pounds, dark hair going gray.”
“Facial characteristics?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
“But you say you saw him a couple of days ago.”
“That’s right, but he had a big bandage right in the middle of his face. I had the distinct impression that he didn’t want me to know what he looked like. Maybe he was afraid I might be talking to the FBI.”
“Do you know his present whereabouts?”
“A man answering his description has been seen in Palm Beach, but I’ve no idea if it’s the same man.”
“Anything else you can tell me?”
“Nope.”
Miles and Nevins stood up. “Thank you very much, Mr. Barrington, Lieutenant Bacchetti. We owe you one.”
“You already said that,” Dino pointed out.
“We’ll be going, then,” Miles said.
“Don’t let the doorknob hit you in the ass on your way out,” Dino said.
Miles looked at the gangplank. “There isn’t a doorknob,” he said.
Dino looked at Stone. “You can’t fool the FBI, can you?”
“Nope,” Stone agreed.
The two agents left.
When they had gone, Stone turned to Dino. “I’m surprised you cooperated. Why did you want me to tell them about Manning?”
“The sonofabitch set my yacht adrift,” Dino said.