“What did you do that summer?” Lance asked.

“We sailed and played golf and tennis. The Stones lived near the yacht club, and there was a nine-hole golf course and a tennis club. We didn’t lack for activity.”

“Did you and Dick keep in touch?”

“We exchanged a few letters over the next year or two, but that petered out. I didn’t hear from him again until he turned up in New York and called me at the precinct and invited me to dinner. We went to the Harvard Club, I remember, and I was impressed.”

“What did you talk about that evening?”

“About our work: He was stationed in Rome, as I recall-he was the agricultural attache, or something-and I was working homicides with Dino. I remember he asked me if I was interested in government service, and I said I was already in government service. I asked him what he had in mind, but he was vague. I didn’t hear from him again until this morning.”

Lance nearly choked on his drink. “This morning?”

“Yes, I had a letter from Dick-a package, really-by FedEx. There was a letter saying that he wanted me to put the package, which was sealed, in my safe and not to open it, except in event of his death. There was a check for a thousand dollars, too, as a retainer. He wanted to formally hire me as his attorney. Why do you find it so odd that I heard from him this morning?”

Lance put a hand on Stone’s arm. “Because, my friend, yesterday your cousin, Dick Stone, shot his wife and only daughter, then put a bullet in his own brain. At his house in Dark Harbor.”

Chapter 2

STONE UNLOCKED THE front door of his house and let everybody in. “Dino, put your stuff on the elevator, take it up to the third floor and put it in the big guest room. We’ll be in my office.” Dino complied.

Stone led the way downstairs to the basement and switched on the lights in his office. “Have a seat,” he said to Lance and Holly. They did so. Stone went to his safe, punched the combination into the electronic keypad, removed a package and set it on his desk.