“Yes, indeed. I’m uncomfortable about witnessing a client—two clients, in this case—committing bigamy in front of the crumbs of Palm Beach’s upper crust.”
“When they get to that part about ‘if anybody can show just cause why these two people shouldn’t get married, ’ shouldn’t you, as an officer of the court, stand up and yell, ‘It’s bigamy!’?”
“Probably, but this lawyer says he might be able to get it heard quickly.”
The phone rang again, and this time it was for Dino.
“Hello? Yeah, this is Bacchetti. Hang on, let me get something to write with.” He motioned to Stone for a pen.
Stone handed him one, and a pad.
“Yeah, yeah. Where? How many? And there’s no other clue? Why the hell didn’t this match pop up before? Oh, yeah, I see. Thanks. I don’t know yet. Sit on it until I get back to you.” He hung up.
“What?” Stone asked.
“You were right, pal. Our Mr. Manning knocked over a branch bank in Arlington, Virginia, four years ago.”
“I knew it!” Stone said.
“He left a thumbprint on a note that he handed a teller.”
“Why didn’t the match turn up at the time?”
“I asked about that. It seems that when we printed the guy at the Nineteenth, whoever did it didn’t put the prints into the system because he figured, what the hell, the guy’s being prosecuted in another country. It was stupid, but it happens.”
“This is wonderful,” Stone said, meaning it.
“It gets better. A man answering the description—at least height and weight—knocked over three other branches within fifty miles of D.C. Two in Maryland and one more in Virginia. He was smart enough not to leave any prints on those jobs.”
“What sort of money did he get?”
“Between a hundred and a hundred and fifty thousand at each bank; never more than that. Still, he had to do some planning or have some inside information to get that much out of a walk-in-and-hand-the-teller-a-note job. Usually those bring more like twenty-five or thirty grand a pop, and the banks don’t even bother to prosecute if there was no violence involved.” Dino stopped and looked at Stone.
“Why the smug little smile?”
“Gee, I don’t know. I just have this warm fuzzy feeling inside.”
“You’ve got the guy by the balls.”
“You bet your sweet ass I have,” Stone said with satisfaction.
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to get Liz and Manning divorced and see her and Thad married, then I’m going to call the FBI and sic them on Paul Manning, and I’m going to take the greatest pleasure in doing it.”
“I hope it’s that easy, pal,” Dino replied.
50
STONE WAS WOKEN FROM A SOUND SLEEP BY THE PHONE next to his bed. He picked it up. “Hello,” he said, sleepily. He looked at the bedside clock. It was shortly after ten A.M.
“Stone? It’s Fred Williamson. Can you have Mrs. Manning at the courthouse at three o’clock this afternoon?”
“Why?”
“We’ve got a hearing before Judge Coronado in his chambers at that time.”
“Why does Mrs. Manning have to be there?”