“You what?”
“Leslie didn’t think you would let him do it; that’s why we didn’t tell you.”
“Well, if he had suggested that, I suppose I would have been against it. I would have thought it very risky.”
“He told me what we had to do that day out at his cottage, when he sent you for the milk.”
“The milk he didn’t need,” Stone said, half to himself.
“Yes, that milk. While you were gone, Leslie told me what he had in mind.”
“And what did he have in mind?”
“He said that the only thing that worked with these people was money and not even that would work with Sir Winston Sutherland—he was already too committed to a conviction. The prime minister, though, was another matter. He was retiring, and there was always the chance that he hadn’t stolen enough to make him happy, Leslie said.”
“And how did Leslie go about this?”
“He said nothing to Sutherland; in fact, he said nothing to anybody. When Leslie handed the appeal to the judge, there was a cashier’s check for a million dollars in the envelope, along with the appeal document.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“That’s pretty much what I said. It seemed awfully risky, until you consider that at that moment, I had already been convicted and that the prime minister had no motivation to overturn the appeal.”
“Didn’t the flood of faxes and telephone calls from the States mean anything at all?”
“Merely a nuisance to the old man. He knew he wouldn’t be around all that much longer, and that he wouldn’t have to deal with any consequences. Sir Winston is, apparently, his hand-picked boy, and he could deal with the aftermath.”
“Does Leslie know he succeeded with his bribe?”
She nodded. “When he made that last phone call to the prime minister from the jail, he was given the word, but he couldn’t tell me, because you and the priest were there.”
“What about Sir Winston?”
“What about him?”
“Does he know about the deal?”
“He knows nothing. That’s why I have to get out of here now and why you can’t say anything to anybody, either here or in the States. Does the press know about the hanging?”
Stone nodded. “Bill Eggers, in New York, had a press release sent out.”
“Good; let’s leave it that way.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. Until I let you know it’s okay.”
The rush of adrenaline was gone now, and Stone was sagging. “What happened after they took you into the courtyard?”
“They whisked me out of the building and into a car and delivered me here, to the motor yacht.”
“But I saw it leaving earlier this evening.”
“I was already aboard. I made them stop outside the harbor and bring me back in the tender. I had to see you and explain.” She looked at him oddly. “Aren’t you at all glad to see me?”
He put his arms around her and held her close. “You bet I am,” he whispered.
“I’m so sorry to have put you through all this, but there just wasn’t any other way.”