Cold Paradise (22 page)

46

S
TONE DIDN’T MOVE, NOR DID HE ALLOW HIMSELF TO show any concern.

“Paul,” Ginsky said, “that is entirely unnecessary, and moreover, unacceptable. If you want me to represent you in this matter, put it away and sit down.”

“I’ll put it away,” Manning replied, “but I’ll stay where I am. And, Barrington, if you turn around I’ll use it on your skull.”

“Mr. Ginsky,” Stone said, “perhaps it would help if you explained your client’s tenuous position to him.”

“Let me explain something to you, Barrington,” Manning said.

“Shut up,” Stone said. “I will not deal with you, but with your attorney. If you can’t accept that, then I’ll leave now.”

“Get in your little airplane and fly away, huh? Maybe I should have a look at that airplane. You know how good I am at fixing them.”

“Paul, be quiet,” Ginsky said. “If you say another word I will withdraw from this meeting, and we’ll all be right back where we started. Mr. Barrington, you have not mentioned your previous offer to resolve any legal difficulties Mr. Manning might have.”

“No, and I won’t mention that until we are agreed on all other points, except to say that to resolve the legal difficulties is within my power.”

“Very well,” Ginsky said. “The offer on the table is for one million dollars in cash, a signed property settlement and, I assume, a divorce, and an undertaking not to see or speak to Mrs. Manning again. Is that correct?” He looked toward the door and held up a hand to stop Manning from speaking.

Ginsky had not mentioned that the transaction would take place through a U.S. bank. “You left out a couple of points, but I won’t quibble,” Stone said. “That’s substantially it.”

“The money is not enough,” Ginsky said. “Let’s cut to the chase. Make your best offer.”

“A million and a half dollars,” Stone said.

“If you will offer two million dollars, I think I can recommend the deal to my client.”

“My client has already paid half a million dollars for his benefit; that makes a total of two million.”

Ginsky looked at his client, then back at Stone. “Surely she can do better. She walked away with twelve million, tax free.”

“My client has had many expenses over the years, and she has paid her taxes.” He had advised her to, anyway.

“A U.S. bank is not acceptable for the transaction,” Ginsky said.

“Then we’ll wire it to your firm’s trust account, and you can disburse it.”

“Still not acceptable.”

“What’s the matter, doesn’t your client want to pay
his
taxes?”

“That’s beside the point.”

“Speaking of points, you haven’t addressed all of mine,” Stone said.

“He can hardly agree not to be in the same city with her; he won’t know her movements.”

“All right, he stays out of Florida and New York City, except to change airplanes.”

Ginsky looked at his client, then back at Stone. “We won’t give you New York, but you can have Florida.”

“Let me enumerate,” Stone said, counting off on his fingers. “Two million dollars. I won’t wire it abroad, but to your trust account. You can disburse it abroad, if you want to. He stays out of Florida, or he goes to jail for contempt of court. He signs a property settlement and a document acceding to a divorce petition, here and now.”

“Let me see the papers,” Ginsky said.

Stone unlatched his briefcase, selected the set of documents with the two-million-dollar figure typed in, then slid them across the table.

There was five minutes of silence while Ginsky speed-read the documents. He looked at his client. “This is good,” he said.

“I expect there’s a notary at this FBO,” Stone said, “and I want him to sign twice, once as Manning and once as whatever his current passport says.”

Ginsky nodded.

“Let me see the passport.”

Ginsky spoke to his client. “Paul, please ask the girl at the desk to send a notary in here.”

Stone heard the door open and close.

Ginsky slid a U.S. passport across the table.

Stone opened it, anxious to see the photograph. A postage stamp covered the face. He looked up at Ginsky. “How do I know this is Paul’s passport, if I can’t see the face on the photograph?”

“Do you doubt that the man who was just in this room was Paul Manning?”

“No, I know the voice.”

“Then you don’t need to see the face for purposes of identification, do you?”

“Your client is very shy.”

“He has his reasons,” Ginsky said.

Stone copied down the information on the passport: William Charles Danforth, a Washington, D.C., address. He riffled through the visa pages and saw a number of entry and exit stamps—London, Rome, other European cities. “He’s pretty well traveled.” He slid the passport back across the table.

Manning returned with the notary, and Stone pulled out additional copies of the agreement.

“Both names,” Ginsky said to his client.

Manning signed the documents on a credenza behind Stone, and the woman notarized them.

“When do we get your client’s signature?” Ginsky asked.

“She’ll sign today, and the documents will be Fed-Exed to your New York office right away.”

Ginsky gave Stone his business card.

The notary left. “What about the money?” Manning asked.

“To be wire-transferred as soon as the judge signs the divorce decree,” Stone said.

“It’s in the documents, Paul. He’ll provide a release from the insurance company at the same time. The deal won’t be final until we’re in receipt of those two items.”

“I don’t like waiting,” Manning said.

“It can’t be helped,” Ginsky replied. “It’s how these things are done. Trust me.”

Stone heard the door open and close behind him.

“Sorry, my client’s a little edgy today,” Ginsky said.

“How’d you get mixed up in this, Ed?” Stone asked.

“I’ve known him since college. He popped up in my life only a short time ago, when he got the e-mails from you.”

“Can you make him hew to the terms of the agreement?”

“I think so. He wants out of the marriage, and he wants the insurance matter off his back.”

“I’ll tell you, off the record,” Stone said, “that if he doesn’t stick to the letter and the spirit of the agreement, I’ll take it upon myself to expose him for who he is, and in a very public way.”

“Are you threatening me, Stone?” Ginsky asked.

“No, Ed, I’m threatening Paul Manning, and I mean it. You should know that he’s a dangerous man, and my advice to you is, when this matter is concluded, to stay as far away from him as you can.”

“That may be good advice,” Ginsky admitted.

Stone put his copies of the document into his briefcase and stood up.

Ginsky stood up, too. “We saw you taxi up and get out of the airplane,” he said. “I was expecting you to drive in. Where are you flying back to?”

“I’d rather not say,” Stone said.

“I don’t think you’ll have any more trouble from Paul. Where do you want to do the divorce?”

“Anywhere in Florida will do.”

“I know a judge here in Palm Beach, and I’m licensed to practice here.”

“Fine with me. I’m not licensed here, so I’ll get Bill Eggers to find somebody. He’ll be in touch.”

“I’ll look forward to receiving the signed documents tomorrow.” Ginsky held out his hand.

Stone shook it. “Thanks for getting him to see sweet reason, Ed.”

“See you around the courts in New York, I expect.”

“I expect so.”

The two lawyers walked out of the conference room and into the lobby. Paul Manning was nowhere in sight.

They walked out to the ramp together, shook hands again, and Ginsky got into a Hawker 125, parked near the door.

Stone assumed Manning was already in it. He walked a hundred yards to where his less imposing aircraft had been parked by the lineman. He did an especially thorough preflight inspection before climbing into the airplane.

He remembered Manning’s remark about knowing how to fix airplanes, and he wanted to be sure the one he was flying would keep flying. He started the engine, and he listened to it carefully before starting to taxi.

All the way back to North County airport, he listened to the engine. It got him back safely.

47

W
HEN STONE ARRIVED BACK ABOARD THE YACHT, LIZ, Callie and Dino were all waiting for him.

“Did you see him?” Liz asked.

“Not exactly,” Stone said, “but we were in the same room.”

“Did he sign the papers?” she asked anxiously.

“Yes.”

“How much am I giving him?”

“Two million dollars.”

Liz collapsed in his arms, laughing. “Oh, Stone, you are a wonder. You saved me four million dollars!”

“Don’t ever tell Paul that,” he said.

“I hope I won’t ever have to talk to him.”

“I think we can avoid a court appearance for the divorce.”

“Where will we do the divorce?”

“Here in Palm Beach. I’ll find you a Florida lawyer for that, but since we have a signed settlement, there won’t be much work for him to do. Now you have to sign the documents, and we have to find a notary.”

“I’m a notary,” Callie said. “I have to witness stuff for Thad all the time.”

“Great. Go get your seal.”

Callie left them, then returned with her seal and stamp. Stone handed Liz a pen, she signed and Callie notarized.

“That’s it,” Stone said, handing the documents to Callie, along with Ed Ginsky’s card. “Will you FedEx these to him right away?”

“Sure. I’ll call for a pickup now.” She picked up a phone.

“I have to call Thad and tell him,” Liz said, running for the phone in the saloon.

Stone sat down beside Dino.

“Is this all over, Stone?”

“I hope so,” Stone replied.

“But you’re not sure?”

“It’s not going to be over until it’s over.” He thought about that for a moment. “And maybe not even then.”

“What’s the problem?”

“The problem is Manning. He’s still just as angry and, apparently, as nuts as he was the day you arrested him in New York. He’s got a good lawyer—Ed Ginsky—but I don’t know if Ed can control him.”

“I know who Ginsky is,” Dino said. “He’s had a lot of experience dealing with angry spouses.”

“I wonder how much experience he’s had in dealing with crazy ones?”

“Everybody who’s getting a divorce is crazy for a while,” Dino said.

Stone picked up the phone. “I’d better call Bill Eggers and find Liz a local lawyer.”

Liz came running back from the saloon. “Thad’s coming back tonight!” She ran toward her cabin.

Stone placed the call to Eggers and told him what he wanted.

“I don’t know the Florida law offhand,” Eggers said, “but it sounds pretty straightforward.”

“That’s what I think. You know somebody in Palm Beach?”

“No, but somebody here in the shop will. I’ll have somebody call you.”

“Okay.”

“How’s everything going?”

Stone gave him a recap of recent events.

“This is kind of messy, isn’t it?”

“As divorces go, yes; but we might conclude a nasty case as well.”

Thad Shames came aboard his yacht late in the afternoon in high spirits. He swept Liz into his arms, kissed her, then shook hands with Stone and Dino, then he turned back to Liz. “Right here, in front of these witnesses, I want to ask you: Will you marry me?”

“Oh, yes!” she cried, and they kissed again.

Dino glanced at Stone and rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t this romantic?” Callie asked Stone.

“Oh, yeah,” Stone replied.

“Let’s do it this weekend,” Thad said enthusiastically.

“I’d love that!” Liz said, tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks.

Stone and Dino exchanged glances. Stone was horrified, Dino amused.

Liz went to repair her makeup, and Stone made Thad sit down with him and Dino.

“Thad,” Stone said seriously, “don’t you think you ought to wait until Liz is divorced before you get married?”

“Oh, that’s just paperwork,” Thad said. “You’ve already got the signed property settlement and divorce papers, and anyway, legally, she’s a widow—twice, in fact. Both deaths are a matter of public record.”

“Thad, rushing into this could make your life a lot more complicated. Why do that? I haven’t looked into the Florida law, but with signed papers and a settlement, it shouldn’t take long to get a decree. Relax and enjoy being engaged for a while.”

“Listen, Stone,” Thad said. “I’ve waited a long time for this girl, and I’m not going to let her get away. I’m not going to relax until we’re married and on our honeymoon.”

Callie came with drinks for all of them.

“Callie, we’re having a Sunday afternoon wedding,” Thad said. “Invite everybody who was at the housewarming, plus the New York list. Call the caterers—and find out how I get a marriage license and, if necessary, a blood test.”

Callie grabbed a pad and started taking notes.

“And, Stone, Dino, I want you both to stay for the wedding,” Thad said.

Stone looked at Dino, and they nodded.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Dino said.

“And, Thad,” Stone said, “we’re going to need some outside security for this occasion.”

“Callie, take care of it,” Thad said. He got up. “I’m going to get a shower and change for dinner. Please book us a table somewhere, Callie.” He departed for the house.

Callie sat down next to Stone. “How much security are you going to want?”

“Let’s see,” Stone said, looking toward the house. “We’ll want two men, dressed like the car parkers, out in front of the house. There should be two men in each public room in the house, dressed as guests, four in the garden and two on the yacht. How many is that?”

“Eighteen.”

“Ask for twenty-four, and I want them to have radios.”

“Do you want them armed?”

Stone thought about that.

Dino spoke up. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea, having that many armed men in a crowd. After all, we don’t know these guys, don’t know how good they are.”

“We’ll have one armed man in each room, in the garden and on the yacht,” Stone said. “Tell them we want only their best-trained and most experienced men carrying.”

“All right,” Callie said.

“And I want them here an hour before the party, so I can brief them.”

“Okay.” She made a note of that.

“Anything else you can think of?” Stone asked Dino.

“Well, let’s see,” Dino said, “we could have a couple of machine guns mounted on the roof, and maybe a bazooka or two.”

Callie laughed.

“Why do you think he’s kidding?” Stone asked.

She laughed again. “I’d better go book us a dinner table,” Callie said, “and I’ve got a lot of phone calls to make.” She headed toward her cabin.

“Thad is completely nuts, isn’t he?” Dino asked.

“He’s nuts about Liz, no doubt about it.”

“I’ve never seen anybody move so fast.”

“It’s the money. The superrich are accustomed to having what they want, when they want it, and that usually means
right now
.”

“It’s a pretty short time to put together a big wedding.”

“Frankly, I’m surprised we’re not doing it tonight. But don’t worry—this is what Callie does, and she’s used to doing it Thad’s way.”

“Sounds like it’s going to be a hell of a party,” Dino said.

“Or a hell of a mess,” Stone said.

They had dinner at an Italian restaurant, Luccia, on a covered terrace, and Stone was gratified that gunfire did not break out. He did not enjoy himself very much, though. He was preoccupied with Paul Manning, and he didn’t even understand why.

Everything Manning was doing made sense. He was making money, he was removing the possibility of prosecution for insurance fraud, he was getting on with his life. So why was Stone so worried?

When he got back to the yacht that night, he started to crawl into bed with Callie, then stopped and went to the phone.

“This is Berman,” the voice said.

“Bob, it’s Stone. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Nah, what’s up?”

“Got a pencil?”

“Shoot.”

“I want everything you can find—and I mean
everything
—on a William Charles Danforth.” He read him the P Street Washington address. “I want a full bio, and I want to know how far his credit history goes back. Do a criminal record check, too, and I want a photograph. I especially want a photograph.”

“Will do. How soon?”

“Tomorrow, as early as possible.”

“I’ll call you.” Berman hung up.

Stone got into bed and snuggled up to Callie. Now that he felt he was doing something, he could pay her the proper attention.