He picked up some Federal Express materials at the bar, stuffed the death certificate into the envelope, addressed it, and left it on the bar, then went up to his room and dialed the law offices of Potter & Potter. An elderly-sounding secretary put him through.
“This is Harley Potter.”
“It’s Stone Barrington, Mr. Potter.”
“Ah, yes, Mr. Barrington; do you have some news for me?”
“Nothing very earthshaking, I’m afraid. The inquest was held this afternoon, and a verdict of death by misadventure was reached.”
“I see.”
“I obtained a death certificate from the coroner, and it will go out to you by Federal Express.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Potter said.
“An employee of the man who owned the airplane gave testimony that the airplane and a house were the man’s only possessions, and that he had let his insurance lapse last year. I’m afraid there won’t be anything to go after.”
“I see. You’re certain about this?”
“As certain as I can be without conducting a thorough investigation, and I’m afraid I don’t have time to do that.”
“That will be very bad news for Mrs. Peters,” he said.
“I know it will; I’m sorry.”
“Have you had an opportunity to speak with the second Mrs. Manning about…” He let the sentence die.
“Briefly. She won’t be giving the matter any thought until her return to Greenwich next week. I expect she will want to consult her attorney there. Perhaps you’ll hear something then; I’ll give her your number.”
“Won’t you be representing her?”
“No, my work will be finished when I leave here next week.”
“I see.”
“I will be in touch if any further information comes my way.”
“Thank you, Mr. Barrington, for your kindness,” Potter said. “Good-bye.”
“Good-bye, Mr. Potter,” Stone replied, then hung up.
He felt sick to his stomach, but there was nothing else he could do in the circumstances. But yes, there was something he could do, he reflected. He telephoned his bank in New York, spoke to an officer he knew.
“I’ve got a CD maturing about now, haven’t I?”
“Yes, Stone, it matured earlier this week. I sent you a notice, and your secretary called to say you were out of town. You want me to roll it over?”
“No, cash it and deposit it in my trust account.”
“I’ll take care of it right away.”
Stone thanked the man, then hung up and called his secretary at home.
“Hi.”
“Hello there.”
“Anything happening?”