Cold Paradise

“Thank you, ma’am,” Dino said.

“Don’t open them yet,” she said, holding up a hand. “I’d be embarrassed.” She stood up. “I have to run, now. Callie and I are going to town to look for dresses for the wedding.” With a little wave, she departed the yacht and headed back toward the house.

“You first,” Dino said.

“No, you.”

Dino opened his gift. Inside was a handsome gold pen from Cartier. “Very nice,” he said. “I’ll be the envy of the precinct. What’d she get you?”

Stone opened the package to find a large, red Cartier box inside. He opened it and held the contents up for Dino to see.

Dino took the box from Stone and gave a low whistle. “Hey, now, that’s really nice.”

Stone took back the box and removed the wristwatch from it. “Certainly is,” he said. He took off his steel Rolex, put it into his pocket and slipped on the new watch.

Dino picked up the red booklet that came with the watch. “Cartier Tank Francaise,” he read. “You pick the best clients.”

“I guess I do.”

Juanito approached with the telephone. “For you, Mr. Barrington.”

“Hello?”

“Stone, it’s Dan Griggs. Did some FBI agents come see you?”

“Yes, they just left.”

“Now I’ve got a guy from the Houston PD wants to talk to you.”

“Houston, Texas?”

“One and the same. What the hell is going on down there?”

“I don’t have the foggiest, Dan.”

“I’m sending the guy to you right now. His name is Fritz Parker.”

“Okay. I’ll be here.” Stone hung up.

“What?” Dino asked.

“A Houston cop wants to talk to me.”

“You committed any crimes in Houston?”

“I’ve never even been to Houston.”

Twenty minutes later a middle-aged man in a seersucker suit walked up the gangplank. “Lieutenant Bacchetti?” he asked.

“That’s me,” Dino said.

“I’m Fritz Parker, Houston PD. Can I have a word with you?”

“Sure, pull up a chair. This is Stone Barrington.”

“How do you do?” Parker said, shaking hands. “Lieutenant, do you mind if we talk alone?”

“You can talk in front of Stone,” Dino said. “He used to be my partner, before he became a rich lawyer.”

“All right.” Parker sat down.

“In fact, Dan Griggs said you wanted to see Stone.”

“No, I wanted to see you. Chief Griggs told me you were Mr. Barrington’s guest.”

“Okay, what can I do for you?”

“A couple of days ago, your precinct ran some fingerprints that matched an unknown perpetrator from a bank robbery in Virginia, four years ago.”

“Jesus,” Dino said. “The FBI was just here about that.”

“They were? I asked for their help, but I didn’t know they were coming.”

“Typical,” Dino said. “They liked what you told them, so they’re poaching on your territory.”

“It’s what they do,” Stone said.

“What’s this about?” Dino asked. “Can’t be the bank robbery.”

“No. At least my department has no interest in that; the FBI might. I’m here about a possible homicide.”

Dino and Stone looked at each other.

“Manning has been a busy guy,” Stone said.

“Manning?” Parker asked.

“The fingerprint belongs to a man named Paul Manning. Or, at least, that used to be his name.”

“Tell us about the homicide,” Dino said.

“It was last year,” Parker said. “A Houston businessman died of an apparent heart attack, but our medical examiner wasn’t entirely satisfied with that as a cause of death.”

“What did he suspect?” Stone asked.

“Poisoning, of a very special kind. Apparently, there are two common household products which, when mixed, create a poison that can’t be analyzed.”

“I’ve heard about that poison,” Stone said, “but I don’t know what the household products are.”

“Neither do I,' Parker said, “and the ME wouldn’t tell me. Said it’s not the sort of knowledge that should be spread around, and I think I agree. He did look around the house and said both products were present.”

“But why do you think Manning had anything to do with this?”

“Because this guy Manning, if that’s who he is, left a thumbprint on a bedside glass, right next to the body.”

“And these two chemicals were in the glass?”

“No, the glass was clean, except for the thumbprint. The ME theorizes that the murderer removed the glass containing the poisons and substituted a clean one.”

“And what was the outcome of the case?”

“It’s still open,” Parker said, “until we can find the owner of the fingerprint and question him. Do you have any idea where I can find Paul Manning?”

“He may be in Palm Beach,” Stone said. “Two of Chief Griggs’s men have seen a man in town answering his description. Lately, he has also gone by the name of William Charles Danforth.” Stone gave Parker the Washington address. “I gave that to the FBI agents, too.” He gave him Manning’s description.

Parker made a note of everything.

“I’d suggest you tell Chief Griggs that you have a good reason for him to pick up the guy,” Stone said. “We didn’t have a reason before now.”

“I’ll do that right away,” Parker said. Stone handed him the phone, and he made the call. Parker spoke to Dan Griggs, then handed the phone to Stone. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Hello?”

“Stone, I hear you’ve finally got something on this guy.”

“Well, Parker has, anyway.”

“It will give me the greatest pleasure to put out an APB on him.”

“He may be carrying ID saying that he’s William Charles Danforth, of Washington, D.C.”

“Got it. I’ll let you know if we pick him up.”

“Thanks, Dan.” He hung up the phone. “Fritz, you’re doing me a very great favor.”

“Glad to be of service. Lieutenant, running those prints was a very great favor to us. I’d love to clear this case.”

“I hope you clear it before the weekend,” Stone said.

“Why the weekend?”

“Because there’s going to be a big wedding here, and Mr. Manning might just try to crash the party.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Parker said. He stood up and shook Stone’s and Dino’s hands. “Thanks for your help. I’ll let you know if we find the guy.” He turned to leave.

“Fritz,” Stone said, “what was your victim’s name?”

“Winston Harding,” Parker replied.