Page 12 of Distant Thunder

They exchanged glances. “We’d like to ask you a few questions,” one of them said.

Stone waved them to seats. “Coffee?”

Both shook their heads.

“Okay, shoot,” Stone said, then raised his hands. “Though not literally.”

“We believe you are acquainted with a gentleman called John Collins.”

“At this point, no one is acquainted with Mr. Collins,” Stone said.

The two exchanged another glance.

“We believe he was a guest in your home in Maine a few days ago.”

Stone smiled. “Not exactly,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that Mr. Collins was more the guest of the Maine State Police, and he spent a night on the floor of my garage, packed in ice, awaiting transport to their ME.”

They both stared at Stone blankly.

“Were you gentlemen not aware that Mr. Collins is deceased?”

“We were asked to investigate a murder and were given his name simply as a starting point, not as the victim.”

“Your superiors really should try to keep up, instead of wasting your time.”

“We were wondering why we were asked to investigate a murder, since that is not a federal crime.”

“It was in this case, because Mr. Collins was a federal employee. Still, not knowing that he was dead was rather a serious oversight.”

“Do you know how Mr. Collins met his death?”

“He was shot twice in the head while aboard the ferry that runs from Lincolnville, Maine, to the island of Islesboro.There seemed to be some doubt as to when his death occurred. I’m afraid I don’t have any further knowledge than that.”

“Do you know what part of the federal government employed Mr. Collins?”

“I was led to believe that it was the Central Intelligence Agency.”

They exchanged yet another glance.

“For further information,” Stone said, “I refer you to Mr. Lance Cabot, director of the CIA. He’s at Langley, except when he wishes to be elsewhere. I happen to know that he was in New York last evening.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Because we share a mutual acquaintance who would know.”

“Who was?”

“I’m afraid that is confidential.”

“And where are Mr. Collins’s remains?”

“At the bottom of the sea,” Stone said. “They were scattered by his widow yesterday, I believe.”

“We won’t trouble you further, then,” one of the men said. “Thank you for your assistance.” They stood and left.

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