“But if I just forget abou
t Libby and the agreement and the check, and if I tell you, my lawyer, to forget about it, then…”
“Then you can keep your four hundred thousand dollars, and the ethical requirements of the attorney-client relationship would prevent me from disclosing any of this to Libby’s heirs.”
“Did you tell anyone else in the world about that agreement?”
“No. Thomas witnessed it, though.”
“Did he read it?”
“No. If someone subpoenaed him and questioned him in court, he could testify that he witnessed a document, but he could not say what it contained.”
“Then from a legal point of view, my position is airtight, isn’t it?”
“I’ll put it this way: if someone, a relative, an heir, a lawyer, turned up here or in Greenwich and tried to press a claim against you or the estate, he would have no grounds on which to proceed. No grounds that I’m aware of, anyway.”
“So I have no legal obligation to Libby’s heirs?”
“Yes, you do have such an obligation, but it is unknown to anyone outside the attorney-client relationship, and if it were known it would very probably be unenforceable, unless someone had a copy of the agreement. You also have a moral obligation, but whether or not you meet it would depend on the condition of your morals.”
“So you’re advising me to pay the money to her heirs, if they exist.”
“As your attorney, I am required to make you aware of your obligations under the agreement that you signed.”
“But you can’t make me meet those obligations.”
“No, I can’t. Probably no one can.”
“The condition of my morals,” she said, thinking about that. “What about the condition of your morals?”
Stone blinked. “What?”
“You’ve got a woman back in New York, or in L.A., or wherever the hell she is, and you’re supposed to be in love with her, but you come down to the islands and jump the first widow you lay eyes on, right?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “And you’re a lawyer who’s fucking his client, not that I’m complaining. Is there some canon of legal ethics that covers that?”
Stone felt his ears getting hot. “Not the first part of your contention,” he said, aware that he was sounding legalistic and officious, but unable to help himself, “but as to the second part, as far as I’m concerned, there is no ethical requirement for me not to fuck you, unless my fucking you would somehow react to the detriment of your legal position.”
She burst out laughing.
“I don’t think that’s particularly funny,” he said, knowing how ridiculous he must have sounded.
“Oh, yes, it is!” she shrieked. “It’s the funniest thing I ever heard in my life.” She began to get herself under control again. “It’s also very sweet,” she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks, “and I love you for it.” She moved closer to him and placed a hand on his face. “I know now, if I didn’t before, that I have the most legally and ethically proper attorney in the world.” She kissed him. “And you just cannot imagine how that turns me on.”
She continued to kiss him, then she showed him how turned on she was.
Later, when Allison was asleep, Stone walked back to the Shipwright’s Arms and called Bob Cantor.
“Hello.”
“It’s Stone. Thanks for the divorce decree.”
“No problem.”
“I’d like to dig up some more information on Elizabeth Allison Manning. It’s probably going to be best to find a reliable PI in Palm Beach and let him spend a day on it.”
“Okay; what, specifically, do you want to know?”
“Next of kin, other relatives.”