Read Online 6 Stone Barrington Novels by Stuart Woods - Free Book Online Page B

three or four inches deep. Deep enough to have the watches on mounts that displayed them when you opened the box. It was made out of brown alligator skin.”
    â€œThe safe is pretty shallow,” Stone said.
    â€œThe box would just fit into it, lying flat on the shelf, there. The pistol was at the bottom, along with the box of bullets.”
    Stone took one more look around. “Thank you, Manolo, that’s all I need. Where is Mr. Calder’s study? I’d like to make some phone calls.”
    â€œThe main door is off the living room,” Manolo said, “but you can get there this way, too.” He walked to a double rack of suits, took hold of the wooden frame, and pulled. The rack swung outward. Then he pressed on the wall, and a door swung open, offering entry to the study.
    Stone followed the butler into the study, then watched as he swung the door shut. Closed, it was a bookcase like the others in the room.
    â€œMr. Calder liked little secret things like that,” Manolo said, smiling. “What time would you like dinner, Mr. Barrington?”
    â€œSeven o’clock would be fine.”
    â€œAnd how do you like your beef cooked?”
    â€œMedium, please.”
    â€œWould you like it served in the dining room or in the guesthouse?”
    â€œIn the guesthouse, I think.”
    â€œWe’ll see you at seven, then,” Manolo said, and left the room.
    Stone turned to examine Vance Calder’s study.

Eleven
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    T HREE ACADEMY AWARDS GAZED AT STONE FROM THE mantel of the small fireplace in the room. Stone knew that Vance had been nominated seven times and had won three. The room was paneled in antique pine that radiated a soft glow where the light struck it; there were some good pictures and many books. The room was extremely neat, as if it were about to be photographed for Architectural Digest.
    Stone sat down at Calder’s desk, and as he did, the phone rang. He checked the line buttons and saw that it was the third line, the most secret number. He picked it up. “Hello?”
    There was a brief silence. “Who is this?” a woman’s voice asked.
    â€œWho’s calling?”
    â€œStone?”
    â€œDolce?”
    â€œI’ve been trying to reach you; the Bel-Air said you had checked out.”
    â€œI did, an hour ago. I’m staying in the Calders’ guesthouse.”
    â€œWith Arrington?”
    â€œIn the guesthouse. Arrington is in a hospital.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with her?”
    â€œI don’t think I should go into that on the phone; the press, as you can imagine, is taking an intense interest in all this. I wouldn’t put it past some of the yellower journals to tap the phones.”
    â€œSo you can’t give me any information?”
    â€œNot about Vance and Arrington, but I’m fine; I’m sure you wanted to know that.”
    â€œI don’t like any of this, Stone.”
    â€œNeither do I; I’d much rather be in Venice with you.”
    â€œSicily.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI was going to take you to Sicily, to show you where my family came from. I’m there now, on our honeymoon.”
    â€œI’m sorry to miss it; can I have a raincheck?”
    â€œWe’ll see,” she said, and there was petulance in her voice.
    â€œDolce, in Venice, you encouraged me to come here and help; that’s what I’m doing.”
    â€œI had Papa and the cardinal to deal with. And exactly how are you helping?”
    â€œI can’t go into that, for the reasons I’ve just explained. Perhaps I can call you tomorrow from another number.”
    â€œYes, do that.” She gave him her number and the dialing codes for Sicily.
    â€œHow are you feeling?” he asked.
    â€œRandy, actually. There’s a rather interesting-looking goatherd on the property; I was thinking of inviting him in for a drink.”
    â€œI can sympathize with your feelings,” he