Stuart Woods_Stone Barrington 14

dealings with Croft; is there anything you can do?”
    Teddy was quiet for a moment. “Yes, there is, and I should have done it sooner,” he said. “I’ll speak to you later.”

    T eddy hung up, remembering where Colonel Croft liked to have his lunch every day. He went to a shelf in his workshop and removed a slightly battered briefcase that was heavier than it appeared. He checked the contents, then closed it and headed for his car. He drove to Markstown, to a hilltop overlooking the town and, in particular, the Markstown jail. He drove up an overgrown dirt trail to a spot he knew: an old tower that had once been used for firespotting, dating to a time when there were more trees on the island.
    He climbed the tower, being careful to avoid steps that were rotting, and when he reached the top he looked down onto the Markstown jail. The rambling building had been built as an outpost for the British army, and it was arranged around a parade ground, now planted with trees and flowers. It was like a little park, where employees would take their sandwiches for lunch.
    Teddy wasn’t sure this was going to work, but it was all he could do. He hated Croft, and he had become weary of paying his bribes. This was something he had been contemplating for weeks; he had only hoped he would get the chance.

    C olonel Croft made ready to rake Bill Pepper’s face with the riding crop.
    â€œGo ahead, Colonel,” Pepper said. “Mark me up; the pictures will look great in the international press.”
    The colonel’s normally impassive face creased, ready for a snarl, and he pulled the crop back even farther. Then, as he was about to swing, there came a pounding on the door.
    â€œColonel!” a muffled voice shouted from the other side of the door. “Please open the door at once!”
    â€œI told you not to disturb me!” the colonel shouted back.
    â€œIt is an emergency!” the voice shouted back.
    The colonel tossed the crop onto the desk and strode over to the door. He unbolted it and yanked it open. “What is it?” he snarled. Then he saw Tiptree, whom he knew from the American Embassy, standing behind the police officer.
    â€œI know you’ve got an American citizen in there,” Tiptree said, shoving aside the policeman and walking into the office. He saw Bill Pepper. “Are you all right, Mr. Pepper?”
    â€œYes, but he’s got my wife strapped into a chair in the next room!” Pepper replied, getting up and going to the door. Tiptree followed him, and they both looked into the room.
    It was empty of all furniture; everything was gone.
    â€œA few minutes ago, this place was a torture chamber,” Pepper said.
    â€œI believe you, Mr. Pepper,” Tiptree said.
    â€œMr. Tiptree,” the colonel said, placatingly, “there is nothing wrong here; I am merely questioning Mr. Pepper about his activities on the island. As you can see, he is unharmed.”
    â€œHe was about to use that on me,” Pepper said, pointing to the crop on the desk.
    â€œMr. Tiptree, please, let’s talk for a moment, shall we?” The colonel took Tiptree’s arm and steered him toward the door. “Sergeant,” he said to the policeman, “Mr. Tiptree and I will be in the garden for a few minutes. Please send us out some lunch. And would you please process out Mr. and Mrs. Pepper? You may sign them for me.”
    â€œYes, Colonel,” the sergeant said.
    â€œWait here, Mr. Pepper,” Tiptree said. “I’ll be back for you and your wife shortly.”
    Pepper walked into the anteroom, sat down on a comfortable sofa and tried to slow his thumping heartbeat. “Bring my wife to me right now,” he ordered the sergeant. The policeman got up and left the room.

    T he colonel steered James Tiptree though another door, and they stepped into the sunlit courtyard at the center of the police station. “Lovely out here, isn’t it? A great improvement from when the British used it to drill their troops.”
    â€œYes, lovely,” Tiptree replied through clenched teeth. “Listen Colonel, I’ve been waiting here, demanding to see you for most of the night, why…”
    â€œPlease take a seat,” the colonel said, showing him to a bench. “I want to assure you that nothing has gone on here except routine police work.”
    â€œI don’t think there’s anything routine about this