Cold Paradise (Stone Barrington 7)

“Still, he exists, my client exists and legally, as I’m sure you’re aware, their marriage still exists.”

“I assume your client would like that marriage to end,” Ginsky said.

“You assume correctly. She wishes the marriage to end and she wishes not to see her husband again or hear from him.”

“I think that could be arranged,” Ginsky said

. “Under appropriate circumstances. What is your offer?”

“My client is willing to pay your client one million dollars in cash, wire-transferred to any bank in the United States, in return for a signed property settlement to that effect and a contractual agreement that your client will never contact her again, nor knowingly inhabit the same city at the same time as my client.” Stone knew that he had already put several stumbling blocks in the way of a settlement, one by omission. The two lawyers were circling each other, metaphorically, feeling each other out.

“I see,” Ginsky said. “Of course, hardly anything you’ve said is acceptable.”

“Tell me what you’re willing to accept, and let’s go on from there.”

Ginsky threw his first punch. “Your client achieved a windfall of twelve million dollars as a result of my client’s efforts. He wants half that.”

“Your client masterminded a criminal conspiracy, and when it went wrong, left my client to hang by the neck until she was dead,” Stone parried.

“She did not hang,” Ginsky said.

“Neither did your client,” Stone reminded him. “And, when your client murdered three people and was arrested in New York and extradited for his crimes, and was sentenced to hang himself, my client interceded on his behalf, paying half a million dollars to save his life. She could have done nothing, and we would not be having this conversation.” Stone heard the door behind him close; he had not heard it open. He did not turn around. “It seems to me that your client is deeply in my client’s debt.”

“I don’t owe her a fucking thing,” Paul Manning’s deep voice said from the door. “And don’t turn around.”

Stone felt cold steel pressed to the back of his neck.

46

STONE DIDN’T MOVE, NOR DID HE ALLOW HIMSELF TO show any concern.

“Paul,” Ginsky said, “that is entirely unnecessary, and moreover, unacceptable. If you want me to represent you in this matter, put it away and sit down.”

“I’ll put it away,” Manning replied, “but I’ll stay where I am. And, Barrington, if you turn around I’ll use it on your skull.”

“Mr. Ginsky,” Stone said, “perhaps it would help if you explained your client’s tenuous position to him.”

“Let me explain something to you, Barrington,” Manning said.

“Shut up,” Stone said. “I will not deal with you, but with your attorney. If you can’t accept that, then I’ll leave now.”

“Get in your little airplane and fly away, huh? Maybe I should have a look at that airplane. You know how good I am at fixing them.”

“Paul, be quiet,” Ginsky said. “If you say another word I will withdraw from this meeting, and we’ll all be right back where we started. Mr. Barrington, you have not mentioned your previous offer to resolve any legal difficulties Mr. Manning might have.”

“No, and I won’t mention that until we are agreed on all other points, except to say that to resolve the legal difficulties is within my power.”

“Very well,” Ginsky said. “The offer on the table is for one million dollars in cash, a signed property settlement and, I assume, a divorce, and an undertaking not to see or speak to Mrs. Manning again. Is that correct?” He looked toward the door and held up a hand to stop Manning from speaking.

Ginsky had not mentioned that the transaction would take place through a U.S. bank. “You left out a couple of points, but I won’t quibble,” Stone said. “That’s substantially it.”

“The money is not enough,” Ginsky said. “Let’s cut to the chase. Make your best offer.”

“A million and a half dollars,” Stone said.

“If you will offer two million dollars, I think I can recommend the deal to my client.”

“My client has already paid half a million dollars for his benefit; that makes a total of two million.”