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Dark Harbor (Stone Barrington Novels) (Englisch) Gebundene Ausgabe – 11. April 2006

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Stuart Woods is the author of fifty novels, including the New York Times���������bestselling Stone Barrington and Holly Barker series. He is a native of Georgia and began his writing career in the advertising industry. Chiefs, his debut in 1981, won the Edgar Award. An avid sailor and pilot, Woods lives in New York City, Florida, and Maine.

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Stone Barrington had already had a drink and had almost given up on Dino Bacchetti. It was unlike his former NYPD partner, now the lieutenant in charge of the detective squad at the 19th Precinct, to be late for eating or drinking. Stone was signaling a waiter for another drink and a menu when Dino trudged in.

“Why are you trudging?” Stone asked.

“I’m trudging because I’m depressed,” Dino said, waving at a waiter and making drinking motions.

“And why, pray tell, are you depressed?”

“Mary Ann and I have just split.”

“Yeah, sure,” Stone said. “Just sleep on the sofa tonight, and everything will be fine in the morning.”

“Not this time,” Dino replied, drinking greedily from the glass set before him. “Words were spoken that can’t be taken back.”

“Take it from a lawyer,” Stone said, “the only words spoken that can’t be taken back are ‘Guilty, Your Honor.’”

“Those were pretty much the words,” Dino said.

“And who spoke them?”

“Who the fuck do you think?” Dino asked. “You think she would ever cop to anything?”

“What did you plead guilty to?”

“To the new desk sergeant at the precinct.”

Stone’s eyebrows went up. “Dino, are you switch-hitting these days?”

“A girl desk sergeant.”



“So the sofa is not an option?”

“Nah. I guess I’m moving in with you.”

Stone blinked loudly.

“Relax. It’s only ’til I can find a place.”

“Stay as long as you like, Dino,” Stone said, patting his arm and hoping to God it wouldn’t be more than a day or two before Mary Ann relented and let him back in the house.

“Thanks, pal, I appreciate it.” Dino nodded toward the door. “Look who’s coming.”

Stone looked toward the door to find Lance Cabot and Holly Barker approaching.

“May we join you?” Lance asked.

“Sure.” Stone waved them to chairs. Lance was in charge of some sort of New York CIA unit that Stone didn’t really understand, and Holly had left her job as a chief of police in a small Florida town to work for him. Both Stone and Dino were contract “consultants,” and Stone didn’t really understand that, either, except that Lance sometimes asked him to do legal stuff. Stone and Holly were, occasionally, an item.

Lance ordered drinks.

“Why do I perceive that this isn’t a social visit?” Stone asked.

“Because your perceptions are very keen,” Lance replied.

“What’s up?”

“Tell me everything you know about Richard Stone.”

Stone blinked. It was the second time that day that Dick Stone’s name had come up. “He’s my first cousin,” Stone replied.

“I said everything you know,” Lance pointed out.

“Okay, he’s the son of my mother’s older brother, now deceased; he grew up in Boston, went to Harvard and Harvard Law. I think he’s something at the State Department.”

“How long since you’ve seen him?”

Stone thought about it. “We had dinner eight, nine years ago, when I was still a cop. Last time before that was a little more than twenty years ago.”

“Did you know him as a boy?”

“Okay, let me tell you about it. The summer after I graduated from high school my parents sat me down and told me I was going to spend the summer in Maine with some relatives of hers. This came as a surprise, because my mother’s relatives had stopped speaking to her years before I was born, because she had married my father, who had been disowned by his family, because he was a Communist. He didn’t seem too happy about my spending the summer with a bunch of Stones.”

MALON BARRINGTON WAS, indeed, unhappy. “Why would you want your son to spend ten minutes with those plutocratic sons of bitches, let alone a whole summer?” he asked his wife.

“Because Richard was my brother, and Caleb and Dick Jr. are Stone’s cousins, and he ought to take advantage of the opportunity to get to know them,” Matilda Stone replied. “They have that very nice place on Islesboro, in Penobscot Bay, and it’s a wonderful place to spend a summer.”

“Stone was going to work for me in the shop,” Malon said. Malon was a maker of fine furniture and cabinets.

“You’re going to have to hire somebody when Stone goes to NYU in the fall anyway,” Matilda said, “so it might as well be now as then.”

Malon made a disgruntled noise.

Matilda got down an atlas and found Maine. “Here,” she said, tapping her finger on a large body of water. “This is Penobscot Bay, the largest bay in Maine, and this long, skinny island is Islesboro. The Stones live here, in the village of Dark Harbor. I spent a couple of summers there in their big, drafty old house, which isn’t insulated. It’s one of those rambling summer ‘cottages’ that’s unusable before June or after Labor Day.”

“Sounds swell,” Stone said dryly.

“AND THAT WAS IT,” Stone said to Lance. “I took a train to Bangor, where I was met by a retainer in a 1938 Ford station wagon. We drove to Lincolnville, then took a twenty-minute ferry ride to Islesboro.”

“Dick had a brother named Caleb?”

“Yes. He was two years older than Dick, who was my age, and Caleb was a pain in the ass; he was a bully and a general all-round shit. Dick was a nice guy: smart, good in school, good athlete. All Caleb ever did in school was wrestle, and he liked nothing better than to grab Dick or me and get us in some sort of stranglehold. This went on until the day I kicked him in the balls and broke his nose with an uppercut. His mother almost sent me back to New York. When I left after Labor Day, she made it pretty clear that I wouldn’t be invited back, and I wasn’t.”

“What did you do that summer?” Lance asked.

“We sailed and played golf and tennis. The Stones lived near the yacht club, and there was a nine-hole golf course and a tennis club. We didn’t lack for activity.”

“Did you and Dick keep in touch?”

“We exchanged a few letters over the next year or two, but that petered out. I didn’t hear from him again until he turned up in New York and called me at the precinct and invited me to dinner. We went to the Harvard Club, I remember, and I was impressed.”

“What did you talk about that evening?”

“About our work: He was stationed in Rome, as I recall—he was the agricultural attaché, or something—and I was working homicides with Dino. I remember he asked me if I was interested in government service, and I said I was already in government service. I asked him what he had in mind, but he was vague. I didn’t hear from him again until this morning.”

Lance nearly choked on his drink. “This morning?”

“Yes, I had a letter from Dick—a package, really—by FedEx. There was a letter saying that he wanted me to put the package, which was sealed, in my safe and not to open it, except in event of his death. There was a check for a thousand dollars, too, as a retainer. He wanted to formally hire me as his attorney. Why do you find it so odd that I heard... -- Dieser Text bezieht sich auf eine andere Ausgabe: Taschenbuch.

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Amazon.com: HASH(0x9b5fe168) von 5 Sternen 163 Rezensionen
12 von 13 Kunden fanden die folgende Rezension hilfreich
HASH(0x9b530e04) von 5 Sternen Not one of Stuart Woods best work 5. November 2006
Von Travelin Gal - Veröffentlicht auf Amazon.com
Format: Gebundene Ausgabe
I usually enjoy his books, even though they are formulaic, but this one was so thin in plot it was sad. It was obvious from the get go who the bad guys were. Of course there was the usual requisite sex scenes, even these were thin. The dialogues were stilted. There was no character building if per chance you hadn't read his other books. I agree with the reviewer who said this must have been a churn book. I don't usually write reviews, but felt compelled to comment on this book
7 von 7 Kunden fanden die folgende Rezension hilfreich
HASH(0x9b62800c) von 5 Sternen Drivel 26. Oktober 2006
Von Gary Turner - Veröffentlicht auf Amazon.com
Format: Taschenbuch
As a huge fan of "Chiefs", Stuart Woods first novel, I decided to give Dark Harbor a try. What I found was a predictable plot, gratuitous sex, and all the marks of a "spit out thinly plotted books" machine. Stone Barrington is informed that his distant cousin has allegedly ended his family's life and left Stone as the executor of his will. When it is discovered that the cousin worked for the C.I.A., Stone and company begin to investigate his death to determine if it had anything to do with his clandestine work. As they investigate and the suspects materialize, the plot grows more and more predictable. Run from this one!
6 von 7 Kunden fanden die folgende Rezension hilfreich
HASH(0x9b509780) von 5 Sternen Are you kidding me? 20. Februar 2007
Von G. Solomon - Veröffentlicht auf Amazon.com
Format: Gebundene Ausgabe
This is my first Stuart Woods book and I'll probably give him one more chance but this was a waste of my time. I don't know the Stone Barrington character but Woods did nothing to make him appealing to me. He's not smart, not funny, not brave...ok, so he can fly a plane and get a couple of girls.

I'm left with the following questions,

1. Was I the only one screaming, "The kid was copying the diary!!!"

2. What was in the diary? X, Y Z blank blank blank? give me a break.

3. Kirov? what was the point of this? If the point was to add to the mystery then please pursue it a little more...make me care.

4. Does anybody care that Holly was a crooked cop?

5. Why kidnap Holly?

5a. Why talk about all of Holly's wonderwoman skills if she never gets a chance to use them.

6. Do we really need to have antagonists last name be Stone?

7. What about Dino? Why do I care about his divorce? or his mafia father-in-law? Why is he Stone's best friend? He didn't add anything to the story.

8. Amazing that for such a small island in Maine...every former CIA agent on the planet has retired there.

3 von 3 Kunden fanden die folgende Rezension hilfreich
HASH(0x9b5fc2a0) von 5 Sternen Frank and Josephine Hardy rush to the rescue! 6. September 2007
Von Mike C - Veröffentlicht auf Amazon.com
Format: Taschenbuch
(This refers to the book-on-tape version) About halfway through this I realized that the mystery wasn't going to have a great resolution and that several seemingly important details (a household appliance, a kidnapping, a murder here or there) were going to be kicked into the rough in the hopes that the reader would forget about them. I was reminded of the Hardy Boys novels I grew up reading, but they're really more tightly structured (although not as much sex) than this book. Getting into the motorboat and quietly going up the cove to the abandoned boathouse! Figuring out from the angle of the bullet that - gasp! - it wasn't a suicide! Hopping into a plane to chase the villains through the sky - to almost crash into them! Almost all action taking place off-camera!
When Woods wants to write about something he cares about (Hollywood and the movie biz, airplanes ... umm, anything else?) he can bang out a darn good tale (The Prince of Beverly Hills). Plots with more depth or intrigue seem to get away from him (thus requiring insertion, as it were, of fairly gratuitous sex scenes to distract the reader - not that there's anything wrong with that) and, with this one, there's a sense in which the reader is just asked to say "keep turning the page - at least some of these details will be 'splained by the end". A book for people who miss Nancy Drew, Frank and Joe and their chums ferreting out the truth while getting into scrapes and escaping peril almost every chapter!
5 von 6 Kunden fanden die folgende Rezension hilfreich
HASH(0x9b501144) von 5 Sternen Pathetic 26. Oktober 2006
Von Robin - Veröffentlicht auf Amazon.com
Format: Taschenbuch
I bought this book while rushing through an airport terminal needing something to read on the plane. Not one of my better decisions. Very wordy, and the dialogue is so clipped and stilted it's totally absurd -- reminds me of the way the cops talked in "Dragnet." We are talking zero development of characters. Perhaps Mr. Woods feels he doesn't need to give any depth to characters that he's been writing about in previous books. Well, he's wrong. You basically just don't care about these people. They aren't real, and they talk weird. Not much action either, unless you count actions like: they got in the car; they got in the boat; they got in the plane. You get the picture. This is another case of a well-known author throwing something together so he can get it on the newsstand and rob you of your money. Don't fall into his trap like I did. There are a lot better books out there.
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