Dead in the Water (Stone Barrington 3)

“So why were you and Mrs. Manning exchanging documents at dinner the other evening?”

“I can tell you only that the second Mrs. Manning, being of a kind nature, felt moved to improve the reduced circumstances of the first Mrs. Manning.”

“Improve to what extent?”

“I’m afraid that client confidentiality prevents me from saying more.”

Sir Winston stared at him for a long moment, then nodded at the waiter, who disappeared and came back with two platters of lobster salad. Sir Winston ate his lobster, sipped his champagne, and stared out to sea.

Stone ate his lunch, too, grateful for the opportunity to collect his thoughts. Clearly, Sir Winston had believed that he might turn the presence, or perhaps even the death, of Elizabeth Manning to his advantage in court. Stone was happy to disappoint him.

Sir Winston finished his lobster and sat back in his chair. “What else do you know of Elizabeth Manning?” he asked. “There is the matter of notification of next of kin, you see, and lacking her passport or other documents, we are somewhat at a loss as to how to proceed.”

“I know that Elizabeth Manning made her home in Palm Beach, Florida…”

“But you said that she was not a wealthy woman,” Sir Winston interrupted. “I should think that living in Palm Beach would be a very expensive matter. I have visited that city, you see.”

Stone shrugged. “Every American city, even the wealthiest, has neighborhoods that house those who are employed by the wealthy. I do not have Mrs. Manning’s address, but I am sure that she must have lived in such a neighborhood. She told me that she was employed by a small newspaper to write a column about Palm Beach society. It gave her a sort of entree to social events, but I imagine that her nose was very much pressed against the shop window of that society.”

“Mmmm,” Sir Winston mused.

“I should think her address would be on her hotel registration card,” Stone said, “and that the nearest American consulate could be of assistance in tracing her next of kin.”

“Of course,” Sir Winston replied. “That is all being taken care of.”

“If I can be of any further assistance in making inquiries, let me know.”

“No, no; that won’t be necessary.”

Coffee and petit fours appeared on the table, and both men helped themselves.

“Tell me, Stone, if I may call you that?”

“Please do.”

He smiled broadly. “And you may call me Winston, of course. Tell me, just what is in all this for you?”

“In all what?”

“The trial, your, ah, services to the second Mrs. Manning.”

“We have not discussed a fee, Winston,” Stone replied. He had no doubt of what Sir Winston meant by “services.”

Sir Winston allowed himself a small smile. “But, I take it, you have accepted a retainer of sorts?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” said Stone, putting on his best poker face.

“I’m reliably informed that the second Mrs. Manning has taken you into her…confidence.”

“I am her attorney; she would be foolish not to take m

e into her confidence.”

Sir Winston smiled again. “While I do not wish to be indelicate, reports have reached me that you have been seen entering and leaving Mrs. Manning’s very beautiful yacht at, shall we say, odd hours.”

Stone tried to appear confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what this has to do with my representing Mrs. Manning.”

“Then I will be blunt,” Sir Winston said, clearly out of patience, “I believe that you have been providing services to Mrs. Manning which are above and beyond those which might be construed as legal.”