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Back Below the Belt Save as PDF
Chapters (67)
  1. Cover
  2. BOOKS BY STUART WOODS
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  66. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  67. What’s next onyour reading list?

St. Clair led them aft, where the others were seated, with one new addition: a man in a double-breasted blazer with shiny brass buttons stood, towering over everyone, especially his host. “Stone,” St. Clair said, “allow me to introduce you and Holly to Nelson Knott and his wife, Clarice, who joined us this morning for this leg of our cruise.” Knott’s hair did not appear to be a wig, and it was no longer black but a chestnut color with a good deal of gray. The woman was more than a foot shorter than her husband, and much cleavage was in view.

Knott offered a huge hand that enveloped Stone’s, as if it belonged to a child.

“How do you do?” Stone said, stunned. He looked around. “Where’s Whit Saltonstall?”

“Right here, Stone,” a voice behind him said. “Walk with me, Stone.” He turned and followed his wife toward the launch.

“Are you leaving us, Whit?” Stone asked, catching up.

Saltonstall smiled and lowered his voice. “I won’t spend another minute in the company of that ass. He got on at Rockland this morning, when we were still asleep. I can’t imagine what he’s doing here, and I don’t want to find out. Have a pleasant sail.” He went down the stairway to the launch, and it pulled away.

—

STONE WENT BACK to the other guests and was handed a Knob Creek on the rocks. Holly already had one.

Now he noticed that the magazine publisher and newspaper editor with whom they had dined the evening before had been replaced by two other couples, who were introduced. One of them was a casino owner from New Orleans who was often on the news at election time; the other was an elderly man with thick white hair who Stone did not recognize.

“I’m sure you know Harold and Cassandra Ozick,” St. Clair said, indicating the casino owner, “and this is Clint and Lily Holder.” Now Stone had it: Clint Holder was a Texas oilman with widespread interests, including, if the rumors were true, about forty acres of downtown Dallas. He was sometimes known in the papers as “Clint Holdup.” Both men were huge contributors to political action committees that backed Republican candidates.

“How do you do?” Stone said, shaking everybody’s hand. He could understand why the other guests had abandoned ship, but, since he didn’t have that opportunity at the moment, he decided to make the best of it.