Stuart Woods_Stone Barrington 12

and the police are trained to always start with family. This whole thing is baffling to the police and to me, and the only way they can clear the case is to start with everybody and narrow it down.”
    â€œI understand. Do I need a lawyer?”
    â€œNo, I’m not a policeman; I’m just doing what I can to help.”
    â€œAll right, ask me anything you like.”
    â€œLet’s talk about the day before the night of the murders. Can you give me an account of your day and evening?” Stone took out a notebook and opened it. This was a common cop technique with suspects: If they knew everything was being written down, it concentrated their minds on getting it right.
    â€œIt was a normal day. I was at the office by eight-thirty A . M ., as usual. I worked through the morning, ordered in a sandwich, ate lunch at my desk, then worked until six-thirty. I had a lot of dictation, letters involving several estates. My wife came to the office at six-thirty, and we had a drink. Then, at seven, we went to a retirement dinner at the Ritz-Carlton for Alden Hayes, head of our litigation department. It was Alden’s last day; he was retiring to Florida. We got home around ten, watched a program on television, then the eleven o’clock news. We were asleep by eleven-forty-five.”
    â€œWho else was in the house?”
    â€œOnly the twins; we don’t have any live-in help. The boys had gone out to dinner and come home late.”
    Stone noted all the times. “Tell me about the following day.”
    â€œI had breakfast with my wife; the boys were still asleep. I was at my desk by eight-thirty. Shortly after that I got a call from Seth Hotchkiss, telling me what had happened. We had planned to leave at noon that day for Islesboro; I called home, gave the family the news and told them to get ready for an immediate departure. We were on the road by ten-thirty, in two cars. My wife and I drove the Suburban, and the boys followed us in their car.”
    â€œWhat kind of car do the boys drive?”
    â€œA BMW convertible. One of the nice things about having twins is that they don’t mind sharing.”
    â€œWhat time did you arrive on the island?”
    â€œWe came over on the three o’clock ferry, so we would have landed at three-twenty, and fifteen minutes later we were at home. I went over to Dick’s house and talked with the state police, who were still there.”
    â€œWere the bodies still in the house then?”
    â€œNo. Thank God, I didn’t have to see that.”
    â€œYou still had the key to Dick’s house at that moment?”
    â€œYes, the one I gave to you later.”
    â€œWhere was the key?”
    â€œIt was in a little key cupboard in the butler’s pantry. There are so many keys in our lives these days, I keep the spares there, all labeled.”
    â€œDid you have the security alarm code?”
    â€œYes. The key wouldn’t have been much use without it.”
    â€œDo you know if Dick set the alarm at bedtime, as a matter of habit?”
    â€œNo, I don’t. I think Dick probably had the alarm installed to use when he wasn’t on the island, but I don’t think he would have used it every day. He mentioned to me when he was building the house that, with Seth and Mabel living on the property, he wouldn’t have bothered with the security system, except that the State Department insisted.”
    â€œDid you know much about Dick’s work?”
    â€œNot really. When it came up in conversation I got the impression that it was pretty unremarkable diplomatic work.”
    â€œDid you know that he didn’t work for the State Department?”
    â€œBut he did,” Caleb said. “His degree was in international relations, and he took the foreign service exam before graduation, then went to work at State shortly after that.”
    Stone shook his head. “That was a cover. Dick was a career CIA officer.”
    Caleb appeared dumbfounded. “Are you certain about that?”
    â€œPerfectly. Operations people at the Agency commonly have diplomatic cover.”
    â€œBut when he was still in this country and I called him at work, it was through the State Department switchboard.”
    â€œIt may have sounded that way, or State could have rerouted the call to Langley.”
    â€œYou’re saying that my brother was a spy?”
    â€œHe was a high-ranking officer in the Operations Division of