He didn't have much use for run ups either, Stone thought. A run up might have saved his life and those of his passengers. "Chester was a good pilot, though," Simpson said. "A natural-born pilot." "Right," Stone said. Chester had been a cowboy; Stone had flown with him in the right seat when he had come to St. Marks, and the man was strictly a seat-of the-pants pilot--no checklists. Stone walked over to the tool cabinet and looked at the array of tools inside; then he saw something familiar on the cabinet door. He touched it lightly. Fingerprint powder; he had seen enough of it in his time. "The police have been here?" he asked. "Sure have; looked at everything, asked, a lot of questions, took my fingerprints." Stone nodded. "Well, Harvey, thanks for your time." He shook the man's oily hand and walked back to the car thinking, I'll never fly an airplane off a runway without doing a run up first. Not as long as I live. He got into the car and headed back to English Harbour. He didn't want to think about Allison right now; he tried thinking about Arrington instead and found that he missed her. He still hadn't rewritten his letter to her; he would do it before the day was out.
CHAPTER
tone parked Thomas's car in its usual place and left the keys in it, as Thomas often did. His business with Leslie Hewitt apparently concluded for the time being, he wanted now to talk with Jim Forrester again, and he was lucky enough to find him at the bar, talking to Thomas.
"Hi, Jim; have you got a few minutes for me?" "Sure, Stone, what's up?"
"I want to go through your testimony with you;
make sure we're both on the same page."
"Great, let's get a table."
Thomas held up an envelope. "Fax for you," he said to Stone.
"Thanks, Thomas," he said, stuffing the envelope into his pocket. He'd read it when he was through with Forrester. He followed the reporter to a table, and they got comfortable. "Jim, I'll just ask you some questions,
the way I will at the trial, and you answer them as you see fit. If I don't like the way you answer a question,
we'll talk about rephrasing."
"Okay, shoot."
"Have you ever testified in court before?"
"No."
"They'll ask you your name for the record." "Right."
"Now I'm on my feet in my robe and my wig, and..." "Wig? You have to wear a wig?"
"I'm afraid so. You'll have to try not to laugh; it wouldn't look good for me in front of the jury."
"I'll do my best, but I'm not promising anything." "All right, Mr. Forrester, what is your occupation?" "I'm a magazine writer."
"And what brings you to St. Marks?"
"I intend to write an article about this trial for an American magazine."
"I see. Now, were you acquainted with Paul Manning?"
"Yes, I knew him in college."
"Tell us how you met him."
"We were on the same basketball team."
"Hang on, Jim; I thought you told me you played against him."
Forrester shook his head and raised the glass from which he was drinking. "I'm sorry, Stone; the booze must be going to my head."
"Let's start again; tell the court how you and Mr. Manning first met."
"We went to college in nearby towns--he to Cornell, I to Syracuse." "Spell it out for them; say Cornell University and University in New York State." "Okay." "Go on." "We were both members of the same fraternity, Alpha Epsilon, and we had an inter fraternity has league that included both universities." "Just say club, and don't bother with the Greek; this isn't likely to know much about American college if a, just say you played in the same league." "Right. Paul Manning and I both played on basket teams and we sometimes played against each
"And how well did you know him?" Fairly well, but we were not close." "Just say fairly well, don't say you weren't close. Sir may worm that out of you on cross-examination, though. Don't lie about it." "Right. Iknew him fairly well." "How would you describe his personality?" "He was friendly and outgoing. We got along well?" "Did there then pass a number of years when you did not meet?" "Yes; I didn't meet him again until recently." "Please tell the court of those circumstances." "I' was in the Canary Islands, working on a magazine piece, and I met him at the local marina." "Not the yacht club?" "Right, the yacht club; it has its own marina." "Start again." "I ran into him at the bar at the yacht club in Las Palmas, and we renewed our acquaintance."
"Had he changed much in the years since you'd seen him?" "Well, he'd gained a lot of weight, but he was still the same friendly guy." "Did he mention his wife while you were at the bar?" "Yes, he said he was married to a beautiful girl that he was crazy about." "You didn't mention that before," Stone said. "That he was crazy about her." "Sorry; there were words to that effect." "Good, that will help. Now, how much time did you spend with him on this occasion, at the yacht club bar?" "We were there an hour or so, and then he invited me to dinner on his yacht." ,
"Did you accept?"
"Yes." "Did you then go down to the marina and have dinner on his yacht?" "Yes." "Did he introduce you to Mrs. Manning?" "Yes. She was already on the yacht, cooking dinner." "How long did you spend with them that evening?" "Oh, I guess four or five hours." "And on that occasion did you form an opinion of the sort of relationship these two people had?" "Yes." "How would you describe that relationship?" "They were good together; they obviously loved each other. They touched each other a lot, and always with affection."
"Good, I like that, the part about the touching; to say it." "Okay." "Would you say these people were happily mar; tied?" "Yes, I would. Very happily." , "And how long was it before they sailed across the Atlantic?" "I believe they sailed the next day for another island, then started across the Atlantic the day after that." "Did you see them again?" "Yes. I went to another island called Puerto Rico, and I happened to see them as they sailed out of the harbor into the Atlantic." "Did they see you?" "Yes, they waved and shouted goodbye." "Were they in good spirits?" "Yes, they were laughing and smiling." "Did they still seem to be the happy couple you had met only two days before?" "Very much so. They were holding hands." "Great!" Stone said. "I like that as a memory to leave the jury with." "What do you think Sir Winston will ask me on cross?" "Oh, he may play up the fact that you didn't know them intimately. I can't think what else he might ask you. He may not cross-examine at all." "Good. The sooner I'm off the stand, the better." Stone stood up. "Don't worry about it, you'll do fine. I've got to go over Allison's testimony with her."
"See you later, then." Stone walked down to the marina, greeted the two policemen on guard, and boarded Expansive. "That you, Stone?" Allison called from the aft cabin. "It's me." She came into the saloon, wearing her usual tight shorts and shirt tied under her breasts. She couldn't be a murderer, he thought; she just couldn't be. "Are we going over my testimony?" "Ready when you are." "Would you like a beer?" "Sure, why not." She went to the fridge and got them both a cold bottle of Heineken. Stone remembered that he had a fax in his pocket. He pulled it out, opened the envelope, and unfolded the sheet of paper. He thought it was odd that Thomas had put the fax in an envelope; he had never done that before. He read the letter. "Stone," Allison said, concern in her voice, "what's wrong? You look awful." He felt more numb than awful. He handed her the fax.
CHAPTER
one took the fax from Allison and read it again, slowly this time, letting the words sink in, trying to make some sense of it. He might have seen this coming, he thought, but he hadn't; it was a bigger surprise than he was ready for.. ,.
Palm Springs
Dear Stone,
I didn't want to write this letter. When I saw what was happening, I wanted to sit down with you and tell you, face to face. Circumstances prevented that, of course, and I'm sorry. This letter will have to do. Vance and I were married yesterday in Needles, Arizona. We flew there in Vance's air plane, just the two o/us, and a justice o/the peace performed a simple ceremony, with his wife and daughter as witnesses. Then we flew here, to Palm Springs, where Vance has a house. We'll spend our honeymoon here, and we hope the press won't discover us.
I can't explain to you how this happened, but it did. I had always liked Vance, and during the time we spent together working on the New Yorker profile, I fell in love with him.
You might wonder how I could so quickly fall in love with another man when you and I have been so close, living together these past months. I wonder, too. I think I was more vulnerable to someone else than I had been willing to admit to myself. Although it wasn't a conscious thought, I think I had come to know that you would have the greatest difficulty making a permanent commitment to me, and I know now that permanence is what I wanted most. I had meant to talk seriously with you about this while we were on the sailing trip to St. Marks, to see if we could work through it. I dreaded bringing it up, hoping for a long time that you would do so. When you didn't, I planned to make the try.
But fate and the weather were against us, and I have to admit to you that when I couldn't go, I felt relieved. I think that later, if I had thought you were pining away or me, I would have gone, but then you became involved in the Allison Manning business, and I knew from what I read in the press and saw on television that you had your hands full. I want children, and Vance does, too; that's a big part of this. But I'm making it sound logical and carefully planned when, really, it was entirely spontaneous, growing day after day, until it overwhelmed us both. The only flaw in my happiness is that I could not resolve my relationship with you before this happened. I certainly did not wish to cause you pain. I know you have your own very independent life to live and over the long haul, I know that I couldn't have fit into it without changing the things I loved about you most--your spontaneity, yOUr love of your life, and your singularity as a man. I hope that you and I can remain friends, and that you can wish Vance and me well. We truly are deliriously happy. After some time has passed, and when we're in New York again, I'll call you, and perhaps we can have lunch and talk about things. Vance was very impressed with you when you met, and he would like to know you better. I hope this time hasn't been too bad for you and that you get that poor woman off. From what I've heard she is so obviously innocent and those people down there are prosecuting her for their own ends. I know you'll do your very considerable best. Until I see you again, I remain your good friend and feel nothing but affection and admiration for you.
Arrington
Stone folded the letter and put it into his pocket.
"Are you all right?" Allison asked. "You look as though you've had the wind knocked out of you."
"I suppose I have," Stone replied. "I have to admit,
I wasn't expecting this."
Allison sat doWn beside him and took his hand in hers. "I'm sorry you're hurt, but you really should have seen it coming. I did."
Stone looked at her, incredulous. "You did? How could you? You hardly knew anything about it."
"I knew just enough to read the signs. No girl who was really in love would have passed up a week in St. Marks with you, not even for Vance Calder. You're really not very perceptive about women, you know."
"Well, if I didn't know that, I do now," ha said, sighing.
She went to the bar and mixed him a rum and tonic, then brought it back to him. "Drink that; you'll feel better in a while." She went into the aft cabin and left him alone in the saloon.
Stone sipped the drink and thought about the last few days. If his letter had reached Arrington in time, would that have mattered? Probably not, he realized. It wouldn't have healed the problems in their relationship. Presently, he did feel better. The defense mechanisms were clicking into place now, and the ego's own anesthesia was numbing the parts of him that hurt most. He took some deep breaths, and something inside him unclenched. Now, he thought, he must bring himself back to the present, because he had a lot to do.
CHAPTER
sat her down across t. he saloon and told her to get comfortable. "Comfort is the first thing," he said. "I don't want you squirming on the stand. No, don't cross your legs, cross your ankles, and fold your hands together. Comfortable? ..... "Fairly."
"Find a position early on and be still. If you have to change, do it slowly and deliberately, and remember not to cross your legs."
"I think I got that part about the legs."
"Good. Now, your attitude is going to be important. When I question you I want you to think hard and tell me exactly the way things happened. I want the jury to see that you're trying to be honest."
"All right."
"When Sir Winston's turn comes, I want you to keep exactly the same demeanor; don't use defensive body language like crossing your arms. Don't be petulant; don't show anger; above all, don't raise your voice. Take his questions very seriously, and try to answer them honestly, unless it appears that he's asking a question merely for effect, a rhetorical question, then you can look disappointed."
"Disappointed, not angry," she repeated. "All right, are you ready?" "Ready."
"Mrs. Manning, what was your motive for killing your husband?"
She stared at him, and her eyes grew hard.
"Sorry, I didn't tell you I was going to be Sir Winston, did I?"
"No, you didn't." "You have to be ready for surprises. He may come right out of left field with something, but you can answer it immediately, because you're relying on the truth, not subterfuge."
She shook her shoulders and tried to relax her body. "Okay, who are you this time?"
"I'm your attorney. Mrs. Manning, did you love your husband?"
Allison looked as if she might weep. "Oh, yes, I loved him."
"Don't overdo it; this isn't a soap opera."
"Isn't it?" she asked archly.
"Mrs. Manning, what reason might you have had to kill your husband?"
"I had no reason whatever," she replied firmly. "Now you're getting it right," he said.
"Mrs. Manning, how much life insurance did your husband have?"