Stone Barrington 06-11

I offer to help. She’s tried. With the help of a local barrister, I represent her. Long story short, she’s convicted and sentenced to hang.”
    “Jesus.”
    “Yes. I call New York and pull out all the stops on publicity. Sixty Minutes shows up, and many telegrams are sent to the prime minister, demanding she be released. On the day of the execution, fully expecting a pardon, I and the barrister and a priest visit her in her cell. Suddenly she’s taken out, and the three of us are locked in. A minute later, we hear the trap sprung on the gallows.”
    “That’s horrible,” she said. “I don’t think I knew the end of the story. I must have been traveling at the time.”
    “There’s more. Turns out her husband wasn’t dead; it was all an insurance scam. He’d lost a ton of weight and shaved off a beard and was unrecognizable, and he was there, in St. Marks, posing as a magazine writer covering the story.”
    “And he didn’t stop the hanging?”
    “No. What’s more, in order to cover up his new identity, he engineered a light airplane crash in which his ex-wife and two others died.”
    “And he got away with it?”
    “Fortunately, no. He turned up in New York a few weeks later, demanding his yacht.”
    “What?”
    “Didn’t I mention that Allison, by way of my fee, gave me the yacht?”
    “No.”
    “Well, she did.”
    “And now Paul Manning wanted it back?”
    “He did.”
    “What did you do?”
    “I’d been expecting him to show up, so I made a phone call, and the police came and took him away. He was extradited to St. Marks, where he was tried, then hanged for the three murders.”
    “God, what a story. And what made you think of it tonight?”
    “I thought of it because Allison Manning is sitting right over there by the windows.”
    Callie’s head spun around.
    Stone tapped her on the arm. “Don’t stare. I don’t want her to see me.”
    “You’re sure?”
    “She’s dyed her hair red, but that is Allison in the flesh, and very nice flesh it is.”
    “How could she possibly be here if she was hanged in St. Marks?”
    “I didn’t finish my story. Unbeknownst to me, Allison had, through the local barrister, arranged to deliver a cashier’s check for one million dollars into the prime minister’s hands. Accordingly, the execution was faked, and Allison departed the island in a fast yacht she had chartered for the purpose.”
    “That didn’t make it into the Sixty Minutes report, did it?”
    “It did not. And I may have violated attorney-client confidentiality by telling you.”
    “Where did Allison get a million dollars?”
    “Paul Manning had been insured for twelve million dollars, and the insurance company had already paid.”
    “So she skipped St. Marks with all that money?”
    “Much to the annoyance of her husband.”
    “But he got his comeuppance.”
    “He did.”
    “And you got the yacht.”
    “I did.”
    “Do you still have it?”
    “No. I sold it in Fort Lauderdale.”
    “You said you’d never been anywhere in Florida except Miami.”
    “I forgot about Lauderdale.”
    “How much did you get for the yacht?”
    “A million, six.”
    “And what did you do with it?”
    “I gave the IRS a large chunk, and the rest is in a sock, under my mattress.”
    She threw back her head and laughed. When she had recovered herself, she asked, “Why do you suppose Allison Manning is in Palm Beach?”
    “I have no idea.”

    They got back to Toscana around eleven and stood on the afterdeck, watching the moon come up.
    “If you will forgive me,” she said, “I’m going to turn in. It was a long day, and I’ve had a lot to drink.”
    “I’m hurt,” he replied, “but I’ll get over it.”
    She leaned into him and kissed him, just long enough to be interesting; creamy lips, warm tongue. “Sleep well.”
    “Now I won’t sleep at all,” Stone said.
    “Oh, good,” she replied, then walked off toward her cabin.

7
    L ATE THE FOLLOWING MORNING, STONE BORROWED Callie’s Jaguar, drove downtown and found a parking space on Worth Avenue. He arrived at Renato’s five minutes early and presented himself to the headwaiter. “I’m meeting a Mrs. Harding,” he said.
    “Oh, yes,” the man replied. “We have you in the garden.” He led Stone to a table under overhanging bougainvillea and left a pair of menus. Stone sipped some mineral water and waited for Mrs. Winston Harding to appear. When she arrived, Stone choked on his mineral water. This, he had not