The inner door opened, and the tall officer braced just inside. 'This way,' he commanded.
Stone walked into a large office, and the officer stepped outside and closed the door behind him. Stone was quite alone in the room. A huge desk dominated the office; a single visitor's chair sat before the desk. In a corner were a round conference table and eight chairs, and the walls were decorated with oils and watercolors, island scenes of a high quality. From somewhere came the muffled sound of a flushing toilet, then, a moment later, a door opened and Sir Winston Sutherland emerged,rubbing his hands briskly with a towel. He was dressed in white linen trousers and a rather loud short-sleeved sport shirt. He discarded the towel and strode toward Stone.
'Ah, Mr.Barrington,' he said, extending a huge hand. 'How good of you to come.'
Stone shook the hand. 'It wasn't good of me at all,' he said. 'I didn't have a choice.'
'Oh, I hope the two officers were not officious,' Sir Winston said, sounding genuinely concerned.
'Am I under arrest?'
Sir Winston looked shocked. 'Of course not, my dear fellow, of course not. This is merely a pretrial meeting between opposing counsel.' He walked to a set of French doors and opened them wide, revealing a large balcony that stretched across the rear of the building. 'Please come outside, and let's have some lunch.'
Stone followed the big man onto the balcony and found a table set quite elegantly for two. A uniformed waiter stood at a loose parade rest to one side.
'Let me get you some refreshment,' Sir Winston said, waving a hand at a bar.
'Nothing for me,' Stone said.
Sir Winston snapped his fingers, bringing the waiter to stiff attention. 'Mr.Barrington and I will have some champagne.' He turned to Stone. 'Surely I can tempt you with a glass?'
'Oh, all right,' Stone said. 'Just a glass.'
Sir Winston indicated a chair at the table, and Stone took it. A moment later, the waiter was pouring Veuve Clicquot into two crystal flutes.
'Your health,' Stone said, sipping the wine. It was perfectly chilled. He looked out at the vista, which was the better part of the town, with green hills beyond and the sea shining in the distance. 'Lovely,' he said.
Sir Winston sat down opposite him. 'Yes, we are fortunate on our island,' he said. 'God has given us at beauty on all sides.'
Perhaps not on the side of town harboring the slums, he thought. 'Oh, yes,' he said. The champagne was absolutely perfect.
'Bad crash-Chester's airplane,' Stone said.
'Yes, a terrible thing,' Sir Winston said, not sounding too sad. 'I suppose we'll have to find someone else start a ferry service to Antigua.'
'I suppose,' Stone said. 'Have the police found any reason for the crash?'
'They'relooking into it,' Sir Winston said. 'I trust you are enjoying your stay with us?'
'I would be enjoying it a great deal more if my original plan of cruising could have been implemented,' Stone said.
'Ah, yes, and perhaps the company of the young lady who was to have joined you.'
'Quite,' Stone replied, beginning to feel slightly British, or at least colonial, in the surroundings.
'I understand she was detained in New York by the unfortunate weather,' Sir Winston said sympathetically.
'That is correct,' Stone replied, 'and then she had to go to Los Angeles on business.'
'Leaving you alone to deal with Mrs.Manning's problems.'
'As it turned out.'
'Tell me, did you know Mrs.Manning prior to coming here?'
'Or her late husband?'
'No. I'd heard of him, though; he was quite a well-known author.'
'Did she seek you out while at sea, then?'
'She didn't seek me out at all,' Stone replied, sipping more champagne. 'I had scheduled my cruise some weeks before the Mannings set sail from the Canaries. And I didn't know them.'
'No professional connection? No mutual friends who might have referred you to Mrs.Manning?'
'None. I was just sitting on my chartered boat when she sailed in. At that time there was still some hope of my companion joining me.'
'And how did you happen to appear at the coroner's inquest?'
'I had nothing else to do,' Stone said. 'It was the only entertainment available.'
Sir Winston smiled broadly. 'Entertainment, eh? I like that: a coroner's inquest as entertainment.'
'Tell me, Sir Winston, how did you happen to attend the inquest? Wasn't it perhaps overkill for the minister of justice to participate in such an event?'
'We are a small island, Mr.Barrington,' Sir Winston replied smoothly. 'But enough of this chat,' he said, taking a slip of paper from his pocket and unfolding it. 'Tell me-who, exactly, is, or perhaps I should say was, Elizabeth Allison Manning?'
Stone took a long swallow of his champagne. Oh, shit, he thought.
CHAPTER 33
Sir Winston stared across the table at Stone, waiting for an answer. Stone thought fast, but there was not much he could do in the way of obfuscation. Sir Winston had seen him at dinner with Libby Manning and had, no doubt, noticed the passing of documents between them. He decided to follow Mark Twain's advice: when in doubt, tell the truth.
'Elizabeth Manning was the first wife of Paul Manning,' Stone said.
Sir Winston's eyebrows went up. 'Ahhhh,' he breathed. 'Not a sister or a cousin, but an ex-wife?'
'Yes.'
'Tell me, Mr.Barrington, how many ex-wives did Paul Manning have?'
'Just the one, to my knowledge.'
'And what brought the first Mrs.Manning to our beautiful island?'
'Your beautiful island, I expect; and, perhaps, some curiosity about the death of Paul Manning. She'd read about it in the American papers, you see, and she wondered if she could be of any assistance.'
'Ah, yes,' Sir Winston said, an edge in his voice. 'It seems a great many people read about Mr.Manning's death in the American papers. I have heard from a number of them, including Senators Dodd and Lieberman of Connecticut.'
'Yes, I believe Mr.Manning was a very substantial contributor to the Democratic Party,' he lied, 'and a personal friend of the President and Mrs.Clinton.' The champagne was taking effect now, and he had trouble keeping a straight face.
'Indeed?'
'Yes, I've heard that the president is an avid reader of Mr.Manning's books.' He stopped himself from adding that Paul Manning was also an investor in the Whitewater real estate venture and a financial advisor to the First Lady.
Sir Winston cleared his throat loudly. 'To return to the first Mrs.Manning, what business did you and she discuss during her visit?'
Stone wondered if, somehow, Libby's copy of the agreement had been found. 'Sir Winston,' he said, 'I am sure you understand that I am bound by the confidentiality strictures of the attorney-client relationship, but I think it would not be untoward for me to tell you that Elizabeth Manning, who was not a wealthy woman, had some notion of participating in her former husband's estate. He had been paying alimony to her during the past ten years, a requirement of their divorce decree which had recently expired.'
'And did she participate in Mr.Manning's estate?'
'Elizabeth Manning was disappointed to learn that had not been mentioned in Mr.Manning's will, and, requirement for alimony having expired, she was entitled to nothing further.'
'So why were you and Mrs.Manning exchanging at dinner the other evening?'
