Dead in the Water

you?”
    “Because I’ll kill you if you don’t,” Manning said calmly.
    “You’re not going to kill anybody, Manning.” Stone stood up, drew back his hand, and brought the back of it across Manning’s face, spilling him out of the lawn chair. “That’s for Allison, you miserable son of a bitch. You cooked up the scam, and she went all the way with you, then you let her hang.” Stone looked up and saw a car stop in his driveway. Dino Bacchetti got out. “Hi, Dino,” he said.
    “Stone, how you doing?”
    “Just great. I want you to meet the late Paul Manning.”
    “How you doing, Paul?” Dino said, grinning broadly.
    “Just great,” Manning said, wiping away some blood from the side of his mouth.
    “Dino and I used to be partners,” Stone said. “He’s still a cop; he runs the detective squad at the Nineteenth Precinct.”
    “What is this?” Manning said, alarmed.
    “Dino’s going to put you in jail,” Stone said.
    “I haven’t committed any crime in the United States,” Manning said.
    “It’s like this, Paul,” Dino said. “I’m arresting you for the homicide of your wife, your ex-wife, the pilot, and the other passenger on that airplane you sabotaged.”
    “I didn’t murder my wife or anybody else,” Manning said, “and nobody can prove that I did. Anyway, I don’t believe she’s dead.”
    “Well, there are a lot of fine legal points in this case,” Dino said. “I mean, in addition to the four homicides,there’s the insurance fraud. It all gets very complicated, doesn’t it?”
    Manning smiled, showing blood on his teeth. “Yes, it does. In fact, I expect to be a free man again before the day is over. I’ve already retained a lawyer, and you’ll never be able to hold me.”
    “I know this is going to come as a big disappointment, Paul,” Dino said, “especially since you worked so hard to figure it all out, but I’ve got some really bad news for you.”
    “What do you mean?” Manning asked.
    Dino pulled a document from his pocket. “This is for you,” he said. “Consider yourself served.”
    “What is it?”
    “It’s an extradition warrant. You’re going back to St. Marks for trial.”
    “You can’t do that!” Manning said, trying to read the warrant.
    “Sure I can. Of course, you’ll fight extradition, but eventually you’ll go back. And then you can prove to them that your wife is still alive.”
    Manning’s jaw dropped. “How can I prove she’s still alive?”
    “I doubt if you can,” Stone said, “but there’s more bad news.”
    “What?”
    “The St. Marks police went out to the airport after Chester crashed, and they dusted everything, and I mean everything, for fingerprints, and you know what? They found some prints on the tool cabinet in the hangar that don’t match anybody else’s at the airport. I had a phone conversation with Sir Winston Sutherland,and he told me all about it. Of course, they never thought to check the fingerprints of the New Yorker writer, Jim Forrester. So when Dino gets you back to the precinct, he’s going to fingerprint you, and then he’s going to fax your fingerprints to Sir Winston, in St. Marks, and if they match the prints on the tool cabinet—and you and I both know they will—then Sir Winston is going to have a real good case against you for those three homicides. And even if they don’t match, there’s Allison.”
    “She isn’t dead, is she?” Manning asked. “Come on, Stone, you know she isn’t.”
    “I don’t think Sir Winston will adopt that view, Manning. After all, he convicted her and had her hanged himself.”
    Manning looked as if he wanted to run, but now there were two more detectives standing in the driveway.
    Stone continued. “You saw how they tried Allison, how they convicted her with hardly any evidence at all. My prediction, Manning, is that before the year is out, you’re going to have your neck stretched in St. Marks.”
    Dino motioned the two detectives forward, and they handcuffed Paul Manning. He stared at Stone, apparently speechless.
    “Good-bye, Manning,” Stone said. “I’ll be a witness at your trial; I’ll tell the court how you admitted your identity to me and that you told me how you faked your death. Funny thing is, without our conversation today, they might not have been able to prove who you really were. So I’ll see you in St. Marks.” He smiled broadly. “And there won’t be any attorney-client confidentiality.”
    The cops put Manning into