“Sure.”
Stone spoke into the phone. “Bob?”
“Stone? Glad I caught you; I’m coming home tomorrow.”
“That was fast; were you able to cover any ground in such a short time?”
“You bet; I got into Las Palmas early, so I took a connecting flight to Puerto Rico and spent a couple of hours there, then came back to Las Palmas.”
“What have you learned?”
“Nothing in Puerto Rico, except they took on fuel and water and spent one night there; more in Las Palmas, though.”
“Tell me.”
“They were at the yacht club marina for four or five days, doing odd jobs on the boat and provisioning with fresh fruit and vegetables at the local market. Paul had a drink at the yacht club bar late every afternoon, once or twice with Allison, but apart from the shopping, she kept pretty much to the boat. Boats go in and out of that marina constantly, so I was only able to find one boat still there with people who remembered the Mannings. Apart from their boat, which was big and beautiful, they remembered only a couple of things about them: first, their rubber dinghy was stolen, and Manning apparently had trouble finding the replacement he wanted; finally he had it flown in from Barcelona. Second, the Mannings had a terrific fight late on the night before they left Las Palmas.”
“Tell me about the fight,” Stone said, lowering his voice and looking around to be sure no one overheard.
“A real knockdown, drag-out domestic dispute. Crockery was thrown, names were called, tears were shed, and the whole thing happened at top volume.”
“Did you get any direct quotes?”
“No, but it had something to do with sailing—with their route, or something.”
Odd, Stone thought, that Allison would argue with Paul about something to do with sailing the boat. “That’s all you could find out?”
“That’s it. Apparently the couple did all the usual things that the yachties do when they sail in and out of Las Palmas—repairs, food, and like that.”
“Funny, a guy showed up here, a journalist, who s
ays he had dinner with them their last night in Las Palmas. Any mention of a third party there during the fight?”
“Nope, no mention. I’m afraid that’s all there is here.”
“About the dinghy, what was so special about the one he had flown in from Barcelona?”
“I don’t know; apparently the guy was real picky about his stuff. There were other dinghies available here—Avons and Zodiacs, mostly, both good brands, one English and one French. He wanted something called a Parker Sportster, an American model, very expensive. It arrived on their last morning. Can you think of anything else I should be doing here?”
“No, I guess not; go on home.”
“Soon as I’m back I’ll finish up my research into Manning; there wasn’t time to do much before I left.”
“Do that, and get back to me soonest. It’s Thursday, and the trial is on Monday; I’ll need the info fast.”
“Right; I’ll be in touch.”
Stone hung up the phone just as Jim Forrester ordered a drink at the bar. “Just the man I wanted to see,” he said.
“What’s up?”
“You said you had dinner with the Mannings their last night in Las Palmas, right?”
“Right.”
“How late were you with them?”
“I don’t know, maybe eleven o’clock.”