There was a long silence. “But if I’m caught—”
“Don’t get caught. You’ll be at sea. A lot of things can happen there.”
“All right. When it’s over…?”
“The money and a plane ticket to Australia will be waiting for you.”
And then later, the last wonderful phone call.
“I did it. It was easy.”
“No! No! No! I want to hear the details. Tell me everything. Don’t leave anything out…”
And as Tyler listened, he could visualize the scene unfolding before his eyes.
“We were in a bad storm on our way to Corsica. He called and asked me to come to his cabin and give him a massage.”
Tyler found himself gripping the phone. “Yes. Go on…”
Dmitri had fought to keep his balance against the wild pitching of the yacht as he headed for Harry Stanford’s stateroom. He knocked at the cabin door and, after a moment, he heard Stanford’s voice.
“Come in!” Stanford yelled. He was stretched out on the massage table. “It’s my lower back.”
“I’ll take care of it. Just relax, Mr. Stanford.”
Dmitri went over to the massage table and spread oil on Stanford’s back. His strong fingers went to work, skillfully kneading the tight muscles. He could feel Stanford begin to relax.
“That feels good.” Stanford sighed.
“Thank you.”
The massage lasted an hour, and when Dmitri was through, Stanford was almost asleep.
“I’m going to run a warm bath for you,” Dmitri said. He went into the bathroom, stumbling with the motion of the ship. He turned on the warm seawater tap in the black onyx tub and returned to the bedroom. Stanford was still lying on the table, his eyes closed.
“Mr. Stanford…”
Stanford opened his eyes.
“Your bath is ready.”
“I don’t think I need…”
“It will really make sure you get a good night’s sleep.” He helped Stanford off the table and steered him toward the bathroom.
Dmitri watched Harry Stanford lower himself into the tub.
Stanford looked up into Dmitri’s cold eyes, and in that instant, his instinct told him what was about to happen. “No!” he cried. He started to get up.
Dmitri put his huge hands on top of Harry Stanford’s head and pushed him under the water. Stanford struggled violently, trying to come up for air, but he was no match for the giant. Dmitri held him under while the seawater got into his victim’s lungs, and finally all movement stopped. He stood there, breathing hard, then staggered into the other room.
Dmitri went over to the desk, fighting the rolling motion of the ship, picked up some papers, and slid open the glass door to the outside veranda, letting in the howling wind. He scattered some of the papers on the veranda and threw some overboard.
Satisfied, he returned to the bathroom once more and pulled Stanford’s body out of the tub. He dressed him in his pajamas, robe, and slippers, and carried the body out onto the veranda. Dmitri stood at the railing a moment, then heaved the body overboard. He counted to five seconds, then picked up the intercom and shouted, “Man overboard!”
Listening to Dmitri recount the story of the murder, Tyler felt a sexual thrill. He could taste the seawater filling his father’s lungs and feel the gasping for breath, the terror. And then nothingness.
It’s over, Tyler thought. Then he corrected himself. No. The game is just beginning. It’s time to play the queen.
Chapter Seventeen
The last chess piece fell into place by accident.
Tyler had been thinking about his father’s will, and he felt outraged that Woody and Kendall were getting an equal share of the estate with him. They don’t deserve it. If it had not been for me, they both would have been cut out of the will completely. They would have had nothing. It’s not fair, but what can I do about it?
He had the one share of stock that his mother had given him long ago, and he remembered his father’s words: “What the hell do you think he’s going to do with that one share? Take over the company?”
Together, Tyler thought, Woody and Kendall have two thirds of Father’s Stanford Enterprises stock. How can I get control with only my one extra share? And then the answer came to him, and it was so ingenious that it stunned him.