Stone Barrington 36 - Scandalous Behavior (18 page)

The judge looked up at the courtroom clock. “We will adjourn for lunch and return at one o’clock. The defendants will be returned to their cells, and Dr. Calhoun and his associates will not leave the courtroom, unless accompanied by a police officer.”

Stone and Dino adjourned to a nearby pub for lunch.

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S
tone and Dino were back in the courtroom shortly before one o’clock, and at the stroke of the hour Derek Aslett returned and sat down. The four defendants did not appear in the dock. Everyone rose as the judge entered and called the court to order.

“Mr. Aslett, how do you wish to proceed at this time?”

“Your Lordship, during the lunch hour I met with counsel for the defense, and we have agreed, with the approval of the court, on a plea of guilty to one charge each of criminal trespass and possession of an illegal firearm by the four defendants. Additionally, they will each pay a fine of one thousand pounds. Dr. Calhoun, his wife, and two companions will plead guilty to one count each of possession of an illegal firearm and a fine of one thousand pounds, on the condition that all of them be permitted
to pack their bags and pay their hotel bills, then be escorted to Heathrow Airport, where they will leave the country on the first available flight to New York, and that they not return to the United Kingdom at any time in the future.”

“Does the defense agree to these pleas and these terms?” the judge asked.

The defense counsel rose. “Your Lordship, the defense concurs.”

“Very well, the police will transport the eight of them to their respective hotels, where they will pack their bags and pay their bills. The defendants will also pay their fines in pounds sterling or United States dollars, then be transported to Heathrow, where the police will see them aboard the first available flight to New York. They will be barred from returning to the United Kingdom, without the written permission of the Home Secretary.” He banged his gavel, everyone rose, and he left the courtroom.

Aslett walked over to where Stone and Dino stood. “I hope you find that a satisfactory outcome,” he said, beaming.

“I would have preferred seeing them sent to the Tower of London and beheaded,” Stone said, “but short of that, I’ll settle for your deal.”

“Commissioner, I’m glad we did not have to call you.”

“So am I,” Dino replied.

“By the way, today’s flights are all full, so I’ve booked them in steerage on a British Airways flight out of Heathrow at ten
AM
tomorrow, and they’ll have the pleasure of spending a night in
the departure area, without access to the first-class lounge or the Concorde Room.”

“Good move,” Stone said. They shook hands with him and left the courtroom.

Outside, they paused to watch, with satisfaction, as Calhoun and his cohorts were loaded into a Black Maria and driven away.

“And good riddance,” Stone said as the van departed.

“I had a thought,” Dino said.

“Tell me.”

“The judge ordered them to pay their fines in cash, so Aslett must have been told by their lawyer that they have it available.”

“That makes sense.”

“I’m acquainted with the head of customs at Kennedy. Why don’t I give him a call and suggest that Calhoun and his crowd be checked for excess cash when they land? They’re only allowed to carry five thousand dollars in or out of the country, unless they declare it to customs. If they don’t, they’re subject to federal prosecution.”

“Dino, I love the way your mind works,” Stone said.

They got back into Stone’s car and drove toward the motorway south, while Dino made the call on his cell phone.

Stone’s phone rang, and he used the hands-free feature of the car’s sound system to answer it. “Hello?”

“Stone, it’s Julian Whately. I met with Lady Curtis’s solicitor this morning and we worked through the closing documents and made any necessary changes. They’re ready for yours, M’sieur
duBois’s, and Lady Curtis’s signatures. I’m told that she has already moved her things out of the house and is staying temporarily with Dame Felicity Devonshire. She has said she is available for completion at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“That was fast, Julian.”

“We do what we can.”

“Please overnight everything to me, and would you please call Lady Curtis or her solicitor and ask if we might meet at ten tomorrow at Windward Hall for the completion?”

“Of course. The package is on its way.”

They hung up, and a moment later Stone’s phone rang again. “Hello?”

“It’s Felicity.”

“Hello, there.”

“I’ve just heard of the outcome of this morning’s proceedings. You must be very pleased.”

“I certainly am.”

“I’m pleased, too, and so is the Home Secretary, because he won’t have to go to the bother of kicking Dr. Don out of the country and dealing with his appeal.”

“The judge also said they can’t come back here without the Home Secretary’s written permission.”

“Which, in the circumstances, neither he nor his possible successors will ever give.”

He told her about the travel arrangements Aslett had made for the group and got a big laugh from her. “Dino has also
arranged for U.S. Customs to search them for excess cash on their arrival,” Stone said.

“Oh, good! I don’t think Dr. Don is ever going to mess you about again.”

“Not in England, anyway. Oh, by the way, I’ve just heard that Glynnis Curtis has moved out of her house and is staying with you. We’re planning to complete the sale at Windward Hall tomorrow morning.”

“Funny how fast everything moves when everyone involved wants it to. I hear Susan is already at work on making Curtis House into the next Arrington.”

“She is.”

“Aren’t you glad you took my suggestion about seeing her socially?”

“It’s all worked out very well.”

“I promise not to tread on her turf, so to speak, but you’ll be free again soon enough—you always are.”

“I hardly know how to respond to that.”

“Perhaps I’ll have the Muddle East sorted out enough to come down for the weekend, and we can all have dinner.”

“Wonderful idea, and we’ll do it at Windward Hall.”

“I look forward to that.” She hung up.

“Your luck is holding out, isn’t it?” Dino said.

“Let’s hope it continues,” Stone replied.

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D
r. Don Beverly Calhoun stepped down from the Black Maria at Heathrow, took his wife’s hand, and followed two uniformed police officers through immigration and security; then they were led to a departure gate lounge, where two other officers met them.

“Your flight leaves at ten o’clock tomorrow morning,” an officer said to them. “So make yourselves as comfortable as you can.”

“Why can’t we go to an airport hotel?” Calhoun asked indignantly. “We’ll hardly be comfortable here.”

“A restaurant is over there, restrooms are in that direction, newspapers and magazines, too,” the officer said.

“We’d like to go to the first-class lounge, then,” Calhoun said.

“You don’t have first-class tickets, so that’s not possible.”

“I have a credit card that will get us inside.”

“Denied,” the officer said firmly, and walked away.

Calhoun’s wife, who was twenty-five years younger than he, pitched a fit. “I can’t live like this!” she screamed.

“You can and will until we’re in New York,” he said firmly, but that did not quiet her. She bitched until the night had passed and they had boarded their flight to Kennedy, and then she bitched about being in tourist class.

—

B
y the time they had arrived in New York, Calhoun was, himself, feeling very much as she did. They cleared immigration and were headed through customs when they were redirected to a special counter, where four officers awaited them.

“Open everything,” their supervisor said to Calhoun, while taking his large briefcase from him, placing it on a counter, and opening it. “Ah, what do we have here?” he asked, viewing the stacks of hundred-dollar bills and fifty-pound notes.

“There’s no law against carrying cash,” Calhoun replied.

“Let me see your declaration form for the cash.”

“What?”

“You’re allowed to bring only five thousand dollars into the country without a declaration.”

“But I took it out with me.”

“You were supposed to file a declaration then, too. That’s two offenses.”

Other officers were discovering cash in other suitcases.

“You can take five thousand dollars with you,” the supervisor said, handing him a stack of hundreds. “We’re confiscating the rest, pending a court hearing.”

Calhoun sagged. “I hope to God the cars I ordered are waiting,” he said to his steaming wife.

They were waiting, he discovered, after an hour and a half in customs, in a distant parking lot. After a long walk, they piled into the cars and were driven to Calhoun’s high-rise apartment in Manhattan.

There, with a drink in hand, Calhoun began to think about revenge.

—

T
he package containing the closing documents for the sale of Curtis House arrived at Windward Hall early the following morning, and Stone had time to review them before the ten
AM
completion. He reflected that everything was so much simpler when a mortgage company was not a party to the sale.

Lady Curtis looked somehow younger than the last time he had seen her. He assumed it was because a load had been lifted from her shoulders, and she was now independently wealthy, if she had not been before. She signed the documents eagerly, as did Stone and Marcel, and she turned over all the well-tagged keys to the house, then they adjourned for a light lunch.

Afterward, Susan showed Marcel and Stone the computer renditions of the main rooms of Curtis House and the plans were approved with few changes.

“Now I’ve got to go back to London, put my own house in order, and get work started on the draperies and wallpaper. I’ve got three crews arriving on Monday morning, one for the public rooms, one for the bedrooms, and one for the bathrooms. The engineering drawings for the new heating and air-conditioning systems will be along in a couple of weeks, and we’ll send them out for bids to companies in the area.”

“That’s good,” Marcel said. “Our neighbors will think better of us if we use local outfits, instead of bringing everything down from London.”

Stone walked Susan out to her car. “When will I see you?”

“Next weekend, and after that I’ll be working almost entirely from here, getting the plans organized for our application for the planning commission.”

“Won’t we need an architect for that?”

“I am a licensed architect with a degree from Cambridge,” she said.

“I didn’t know, but that’s very handy.”

“Various people will come down from London in aid of restructuring my company, and I’ll interview job applicants here, too. Would you prefer it if I worked from Curtis House?”

“Whatever is most convenient for you. I’m happy to have you here, but we’ve given you all the space we have available, and I’ll understand if it’s not enough.”

“I’ll give that some thought and let you know,” she said.

He kissed her, and she drove away in her green Range Rover.

“What a package,” he said aloud to himself.

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