Stuart Woods_Stone Barrington 14

he said. “They must have taken it when they searched the house.” He went into the living room and removed a picture from the wall, revealing a small safe with an electronic keypad. He tapped in the code, opened the safe, removed a computer disk and rehung the picture.
    â€œThank God,” Holly breathed.
    Pepper returned to the dining table, inserted the disk and rebooted. “It’s giving me a choice of start-up sources,” he said. “Let’s try the hard disk; if it won’t boot from the hard disk, then it’s going to have to go to Langley for a recapturing of all the files.” He sat and watched the screen. “Seems to be booting,” he said. “I’m in!”
    Holly walked around the table and stood behind him. An encryption page appeared on the screen. Pepper went through three stages of typing in long sequences of numbers and letters, then, finally, the desktop appeared.
    â€œHere we go,” Pepper said. “I’ll bring them up side by side.” He hit some more keys. “There,” he said, “Pemberton on the left, Weatherby on the right, Robertson in the middle.”
    â€œWell,” Holly said, “I can tell you that Robertson isn’t Teddy. He’s too young by fifteen years. I don’t think Teddy could fake that.”
    Stone came and stood next to Holly. “They look like passport photographs,” he said.
    â€œBritish-sized passport photos,” Pepper replied. “Does either of the other two look familiar to you, Holly?”
    Holly stared at both the photos. Pemberton had a military-style brush mustache, and Weatherby had a Vandyke, with mustache and goatee. “No,” she said, “not immediately. Is that a toupee?” she asked, pointing to Pemberton.
    â€œPossibly,” Pepper replied.
    â€œDefinitely,” Stone said. “The hairline is too low for a man his age. But Weatherby’s hair looks real enough.”
    â€œGray,” Pepper said. “Pemberton’s looks gray, too, but Weatherby’s is whiter.”
    â€œAbout the same weight,” Holly said, “but Weatherby seems to have had a broken nose at some point.”
    â€œDid Teddy Fay have a broken nose?” Stone asked.
    â€œNot that I can recall,” Holly said.
    â€œYou’ve met Teddy?” Pepper asked, surprised.
    â€œOnce, possibly twice,” she replied. “Both times disguised.”
    â€œWhat about their chins?” Pepper asked.
    â€œHard to say, since Weatherby has a goatee.”
    â€œEyes?” Stone asked.
    â€œThey both have the wrinkles you’d expect in a man in his sixties,” Pepper said. “The ears aren’t dissimilar, but Pemberton’s stick out more.”
    â€œYou’re right,” Holly said.
    â€œLook,” Pepper said, “we’re not going to be able to analyze these pictures here; it’s time to forward them to Lance; he’ll have Tech Services on them immediately.”
    Holly shrugged. “I was just hoping we’d catch something that would give us a clue about one of them, something that would help make him Teddy. But there isn’t anything.”
    â€œShall I transfer them?” Bill asked.
    â€œCan you print copies?”
    â€œSure, and in color.”
    â€œThen shoot them to Lance.” She watched as Bill sent the e-mails, then printed the photos, handed them to Holly and closed the laptop.
    â€œNothing to do but wait, now,” he said.

    L ance sat behind his borrowed desk, watching the faces of a group of a dozen men and women, while Hugh English spoke to them.
    â€œI know you’ve all been expecting this at some point, ever since the death of Dick Stone, and now the time has come. A short time ago, the director told both Lance Cabot and me that Lance will be the new DDO, effective immediately. For those who haven’t yet met him, I’m pleased to introduce you all.” He ran through the introductions, while Lance consulted a list of names and photographs on his desk that he had already memorized. When English was done, Lance got up, walked around his desk and sat on its edge.
    â€œI’m very pleased to meet some new people and glad to see again the ones I already know,” he said. “First, I want to thank Hugh English for postponing his retirement and so ably continuing in this office until the director had time to make a new appointment. Though I know Hugh is