Stone called Ed’s cell number, got the usual message, and asked him to call in. He hung up and tried to think ahead. If Ed didn’t turn up, what would he do? He would call Dino, that’s what. But what would he do about the strong case? Open it? He’d burn that bridge when he came to it.

Joan buzzed him. “An insurance man on line one for you.”

Stone picked up the phone.

“Mr. Stone Barrington?”

“Yes.”

“This is Marvin Raymond in the claims department at the Steele Insurance Group.”

“The claims department?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I haven’t filed a claim.”

“No, sir, but if you had, it would have come across my desk.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The claim was filed by a Mr. Edward Rawls, through our agent in the Penobscot region of Maine. He listed you as his attorney.”

“What sort of claim?”

“It seems that someone burned down his house. We’ve had confirmation of that from the Maine State Police, who investigated.”

“That is so.”

“What we’re concerned about is Mr. Rawls himself.”

Stone refrained from mentioning that he was concerned, too.

“What about him?”

“Well, the police told us that they found a male body in the ruins of the house, and they assumed it was Mr. Rawls. If that is so, how did he come to file a claim?”

“The body was apparently that of the arsonist. Mr. Rawls was having dinner with me at my home on Islesboro at the time of the fire.”

“Ah. Can you confirm that Mr. Rawls is still extant?”

Stone thought before answering. “He was, at dinner last evening. I haven’t seen him today.”

“So you can’t swear that he is still alive?”

“Having heard nothing to the contrary, I surmise that Mr. Rawls is alive and well.”

“In that case, we will proceed with paying his claim.”

“Good.”

“If you should hear anything, ah, discouraging about Mr. Rawls’s continuing existence, I’d be grateful for a call.”

“Mr. Raymond, even if Mr. Rawls is not still extant, as you put it, his claim is still a valid one and should be processed as such.”

“Quite so,” the man said. “Thank you for your assistance and good day.” He hung up.

—

STONE FIDGETED THROUGH the afternoon, reviewing documents and forgetting what he’d read, then starting over. He didn’t get a lot done.

At around six o’clock he heard a small chime that meant the front door had been opened. He buzzed Fred.

“Yes, sir?”

“Did you just come into the house?”

“Yes, sir. I had a thorough look around the neighborhood and saw no trace of Mr. Rawls.”

“Thank you, Fred.” He hung up.

Ten minutes passed, and he heard the chime again. He went upstairs to check for himself and found Ed and Holly making drinks in his study. “Good God,” he said aloud.