D.C. Dead Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  BOOKS BY STUART WOODS

  BOOKS BY STUART WOODS

  FICTION

  Son of Stone†

  Bel-Air Dead†

  Strategic Moves†

  Santa Fe Edge§

  Lucid Intervals†

  Kisser†

  Hothouse Orchid*

  Loitering with Intent†

  Mounting Fears‡

  Hot Mahogany†

  Santa Fe Dead§

  Beverly Hills Dead

  Shoot Him If He Runs†

  Fresh Disasters†

  Short Straw§

  Dark Harbor†

  Iron Orchid*

  Two-Dollar Bill†

  The Prince of

  Beverly Hills

  Reckless Abandon†

  Capital Crimes‡

  Dirty Work†

  Blood Orchid*

  The Short Forever†

  Orchid Blues*

  Cold Paradise†

  L.A. Dead†

  The Run‡

  Worst Fears Realized†

  Orchid Beach*

  Swimming to Catalina†

  Dead in the Water†

  Dirt†

  Choke

  Imperfect Strangers

  Heat

  Dead Eyes

  L.A. Times

  Santa Fe Rules§

  New York Dead†

  Palindrome

  Grass Roos‡

  White Cargo

  Deep lie‡

  Under the Lake

  Run Before the Wind‡

  Chiefes‡

  TRAVEL

  A Romantic’s Guide to the Country Inns of Britain and Ireland (1979)

  MEMOIR

  Blue Water, Green Skipper (1977)

  *A Holly Barker Novel †A Stone Barrington Novel

  ‡A Will Lee Novel §An Ed Eagle Novel

  G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS / NEW YORK

  PUTNAM

  G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS

  Publishers Since 1838

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA Penguin

  Group (Cannt rada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London

  WC2R ORL, England Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division

  of Penguin Books Ltd) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell,

  Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd) Penguin Books

  India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi-110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand

  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd,

  24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England

  Copyright © 2012 by Stuart Woods All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions. Published simultaneously in Canada

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Woods, Stuart.

  D.C. dead / Stuart Woods. p. cm.

  ISBN : 978-1-101-55366-4

  1. Barrington, Stone (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Private investigators—Fiction. 3. Washington (D.C.)—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3573.O642D3

  2011

  2011039497 813’.54—dc23

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  ALWAYS LEARNING

  PEARSON

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  This book is for Emmi Storrs

  1

  STONE BARRINGTON AND DINO BACCHETTI ENTERED ELAINE’S on a Sunday evening, and drinks were brought to them immediately.

  They took their usual table, and Elaine came over afonnd sat down. “You two are oddly dressed,” she said. “For you. What’s going on?”

  “Oh,” Stone said, “we delivered our sons to Yale for their freshman year this afternoon, and we’re dressed for humping boxes of their gear up to their apartment.”

  Elaine nodded. “So the boys are off?”

  “They’re off,” Dino said.

  “No wonder you both look so glum,” Elaine said.

  Stone looked at Dino. “Do I look glum?”

  “Yeah,” Dino said.

  “So do you.”

  “You’re empty nesters now,” Elaine chortled. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

  Stone shook his head. “Nine months ago I didn’t have a son, at least not one I’d ever met. Now I don’t have a son again.”

  Elaine reached over and patted his cheek. “You haven’t lost a son,” she said, “you’ve gained a college boy.” She got up and continued her rounds of the regulars’ tables.

  “I guess that’s one way to look at it,” Stone said. “Do you think he’ll ever come home again?”

  “Probably not,” Dino replied. “You’ve seen the last of that kid.”

  “Oh, shut up. You’re in the same spot.”

  “Nah,” Dino said, “you’re worse off. At least I’m not used to having Ben around the house all the time. He’s been at prep sch
ool for four years, and then his mother yanked him to her place every chance she got. This afternoon, why didn’t you raise the subject of visits home?”

  “I thought about it,” Stone said, “but I was afraid I wouldn’t like the answer. After all, the kid’s got the money he was paid for his film, which is more than I had a year ago, so he doesn’t need me for anything.”

  “He just doesn’t need you for buying stuff,” Dino pointed out. “He still needs a father.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Ben needs me, I’m sure of that. Why wouldn’t Peter need you, what with his mother dead and all?”

  “He’s got Hattie. They’re sleeping together, you know.”

  Dino laughed aloud. “No shit? What were you doing your freshman year?”

  Stone shrugged. “Fucking my brains out, if I recall correctly.”

  “Actually, you continued to do that, at least until you and Arrington got married.”

  Stone managed a smile. “If anything, the activity increased after that.”

  “I’m getting worried about you, kiddo,” Dino said. “You’re gonna have to get back in the saddle pretty soon or you’re gonna forget how.”

  “Yeah, I think about that a lot. It’s just that . . . well, it’s like not being hungry at dinnertime. I just don’t have an appetite.”

  Dino turned and watched as a very pretty brunette in a short skirt came through the door and took a seat at the bar, crossing her long legs. “Doesn’t that do anything for you?”

  “Sort of,” Stone replied. “I mean, I remember what it was like, the way you remember how you roller-skated when you were a kid, but it just isn’t all thamil’t alt appealing.”

  Dino felt for Stone’s pulse and looked at his watch. “Your vital signs seem normal.”

  “That’s something, I guess.”

  “Look who’s here,” Dino said, nodding toward the door.

  Stone turned in time to see a tall redhead in a well-cut pantsuit enter the restaurant. She headed for their table and sat down. “Hello, sailors,” she said, leering a little.

  Stone leaned over and kissed her. “Hello, Holly. What brings you to town?”

  Dino kissed her, too. “Same question here.”

  “Agency business,” Holly Barker replied. She was an assistant deputy director for the CIA. “I hope you guys remember that you’re still under contract to us as consultants.”

  “How could we forget?” Stone asked. “Lance keeps reminding us.” Lance Cabot was Holly’s boss, deputy director for operations, or DDO.

  “Well, fellas, you’re about to get the call again.”

  Stone slumped. “Now what?”

  “I can’t tell you,” Holly replied.

  “Can’t tell us what?” Dino asked.

  “That’s what I can’t tell you, dummy,” she said.

  “What kind of deal is this?” Stone asked.

  “Here’s the deal: you get the daily rate specified in your contract and five hundred per diem.”

  “For how long?” Dino asked.

  “That depends on how good you are,” she said.

  “Who can live on five hundred a day?” Stone asked.

  “Clearly, you’ve been living too well,” Holly replied. “If you stay at a Holiday Inn Express, and eat at McDonald’s, you can make money on that. Would you like my office to book you in?”

  “Thanks,” Stone said. “I’ll make my own arrangements.”

  “He’ll make mine, too,” Dino said. “He’s a regular travel agent.”

  “As you wish,” Holly said.

  “Come on, give us a hint.”

  “Here’s the only hint you’re going to get,” Holly said. “I’ll have a car left for you at the Manassas, Virginia, airport. There’ll be an envelope locked in the glove compartment containing your credentials.”

  “Credentials?” Dino asked. “You think we don’t know who we are?”

  “Sure,” Holly said, “but nobody in Washington does. You’ll have to prove it, especially at the White House.”

  “Which White House is that?” Stone asked.

  “The only one,” Holly said. “Find yourselves hotel rooms, then be there at six sharp tomorrow evening, freshly scrubbed and pressed. If you’re lucky, you’ll get dinner, but don’t count on it.”

  “Is it black tie?” Stone asked.

  “You’re not that important,” Holly said. “Just wear one of your nice suits.”

  “The blue or the pinstripe?” Stone asked.

  “Your choice, sweetie. By the way, I’m very so"3"’m verry for your loss.”

  “Thank you. I got your very nice letter. I’m afraid I haven’t responded to all those yet.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “How are you and the boyfriend doing?” Dino asked.

  “He’s running a big trauma center in San Diego,” she replied. “He didn’t take to the agency life—not enough blood and guts, I guess. It’s been a couple of months. It was amicable.”

  “Let me get you a drink and a menu,” Stone said.

  “Love to, but can’t,” she said. “There’s a chopper waiting for me at the West Side heliport, and I’ve got a briefcase full of work to keep me awake on the flight home.” She stood up, and both men stood up with her.

  “See you tomorrow evening,” she said, then walked briskly out.

  They sat down again.

  “Why did you ask her about the boyfriend?” Stone asked.

  “Because I knew you wouldn’t,” Dino re

  plied.

  2

  STONE PACKED A BAG THE FOLLOWING MORNING, THEN, ON second thought, packed a second bag. The last time he had consulted for the CIA, he, Holly, and Dino had spent a couple of weeks on a tropical isle, pursuing a federal fugitive named Teddy Fay, who gave them the slip. Who knew how long this one would take or where they would end up?

  He took the elevator down to the garage and put his bags in the car, then he went to his office and wondered what to put in his briefcase.

  Joan Robertson, his secretary, appeared in the doorway. “You off to someplace?”

  “To Washington—for a few days, I think.”

  “Could be longer?”

  “It’s one of those things for Lance Cabot and Holly Barker. Who knows?”

  “You’d better take your passport,” she said, opening his safe and tossing him the document.

  “I’d take my vaccinations, if I knew which ones to take,” he replied.

  “You don’t look very happy about this,” Joan said, pouring him a cup of coffee.

  “I’m not unhappy about it,” Stone replied. “If I’m unhappy at all, it’s about Peter’s being off at Yale.”

  “How did yesterday go?”

  Stone shrugged. “Bittersweet. I’m happy for Peter, getting what he wants, but I miss him already.”

  “So do I,” Joan said. “It was a nice change from it being just you all the time.”

  “You’ll have Allison to talk to,” Stone said, referring to the Woodman & Weld associate who had been assigned to his office, “and that means you’ll have Herbie Fisher dropping by at every opportunity just because Allison is here.”

  “I hear on the secretarial grapevine that Herbie is already making his mark at the firm,” Joan said, “working long hours, being smart. He’s got the other associates coming to him for answers.”

  “Who knew that Herbie would turn out so well?” Stone said. “I personally thought he’d be dead or in prison by now.”

  “Better haircuts and suits seemed to improve him,” Joan said, “and the lottery win didn’t hurt.”

  “I hope he’s still got some of it,” Stone said.

  The bell rang, and Joan went to let Dino in. She took his bags to the garage.

  “Coffee before we blast off?” Stone asked.

  “It couldn’t hurt,” Dino said, accepting a cup. “Has Holly called and told you what this is all about?”

  Stone sat down and sipped his coffee.
“Nope. I’m as much in the dark as you are.”

  “That used to be kind of exciting,” Dino said, “not knowing what’s going to happen.”

  “You’re depressed,” Stone said.

  “I am?” Dino said, looking surprised.

  “About Ben going away to college.”

  “Oh, that. Yeah. You too.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “I have an idea,” Dino said. “Let’s go to Washington and find out what the hell this is all about. It might improve our dispositions.”

  “Good idea,” Stone said, putting his coat on. “Let’s get out of here.”

  THEY WERE AT TETERBORO AIRPORT in half an hour, and it took Stone another forty-five minutes to do a preflight inspection of his Citation Mustang, get a clearance to Manassas, and taxi to the runway. Shortly, they were cleared for takeoff. Stone shoved the throttles all the way forward, waited for ninety knots, then rotated. The little jet roared off the runway like a big bird. Stone contacted New York Departure, got a vector and a new altitude, and they were off.

  Another three-quarters of an hour and they were settling onto the runway at Manassas. A lineman directed them to a parking spot, and someone drove a black SUV over to the airplane and parked it near the door.

  “That must be our car,” Dino said.

  “Who would give us a black SUV but the CIA?” Stone asked.

  The lineman took their bags from the forward luggage compartment and stowed them in the rear of the vehicle, then Stone registered with the FBO (Fixed Base Operator) and gave them a credit card for refueling.

  “I’ll drive,” Dino said. “I know the city better than you.”

  “Nevertheless, I hope there’s a map in the car,” Stone said.

  He got into the passenger seat, and Dino got behind the wheel. “I’m going to need the car key to open the glove box,” Stone said.

  Dino handed him the keys, and Stone examined them carefully. There were just two: an ordinary car key and another that looked like something off the space shuttle. He inserted that key into the large, nonstandard lock on the glove box and opened it. Inside he found two holstered SIG Sauer P239 9mm pistols with an extra magazine for each, and a box of cartridges.