Hit List

Начало книги

Neatly printed on heavy, pale yellow stationery. Stone Barrington didn’t know any of them, except the last. He held it up to the light and found a watermark: Strathmore. He buzzed his secretary, Joan Robertson.

“Yeah, boss?” she asked, setting a cup of coffee on his desk.

“There is a list of names on my desk. Who are they?”

“Beats me. I found it in the mail when I got to work — some time ago.”

“Don’t be arch, it doesn’t suit you. Do you still have the envelope?”

She brought it to him; a plain, manila envelope, available at any store that sold plain manila envelopes. Not as distinctive as the stationery. He looked into the envelope and saw that it still had a card inside; he shook it out onto his desk. Same stationery, but card stock. One line, printed:

“Is this one of your jokes?” Stone asked.

“What jokes? I don’t have any jokes, just witticisms.”

She had him there. “Did you see who delivered it?”

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