Dead In The Water

CHAPTER 30

Stone poured himself some orange juice and sat down at a table. After a moment, Hilary Kramer from the New York Times came downstairs.

"Morning, Stone," she said. "May I join you?"

"Please do," Stone replied.

Thomas came over with menus. "What can I get you folks?" he asked quietly.

Kramer ordered bacon and eggs. "I'm hungry this morning," she said.

"Stone, you want something?" Thomas asked.

"Just toast and coffee; I'm not very hungry."

"You're looking kind of grim, Stone," Kramer said. "Something else go wrong with your case?"

Stone shook his head. "Plane crash this morning. Thomas and I saw it."

Kramer dipped into her handbag and came up with notebook. At that moment,Jim Forrester joined them,looking not very well.

"Morning, Stone, Hilary," he said.

"Morning, Jim," Stone said. "You want some breakfast?"

Forrester shook his head. "Thomas was kind enough to bring me something in my room this morning."

"Oh, yes," Stone said. "He said you were ill; you're looking better."

"Guess I got it out of my system," the journalist said. "Hilary, take my advice; stay away from the street vendors in the capital, especially the ones selling conch. For a while there, I thought I was going to die."

"Apparently someone did, only this morning," Kramer said. "Stone was just about to tell me about it."

"Yeah," Stone said. "Chester's plane went down; two passengers aboard; everybody died."

"Jesus," Forrester said. "In that plane we all came over in?"

"That's the one."

"It looked in pretty good shape," Forrester said.

"Thomas and I watched them take off," Stone replied. "Chester didn't do a runup before he leapt off."

"What's a run up?" Forrester asked.

"With piston engines, you rev up to a couple of thousand rpms, then test the magnetos and the propeller and look for low oil pressure or other problems. It's the last thing you do before takeoff, and it's a very important check."

"Any idea what happened?" Kramer asked.

"Engine fire; we saw the flames. He dived to try and blow out the fire, and when he couldn't he ditched in the water, but he stalled and cartwheeled. We saw the airplane come apart. We went out in a boat and found Chester's body, but the two women apparently went down with the fuselage."

"Who were the two women?" Kramer asked, scribbling in shorthand.

"One was a local lady; don't know her name; the other was Elizabeth Manning of Palm Beach. She stayed here last night."

"The lady in the straw hat?" Forrester asked.

"That's the one."

"Any relation to Allison Manning?" Kramer asked.

"Not really; she was Paul Manning's ex-wife."

"What was she doing here?"

"I think she had some idea of claiming part of Manning's estate," Stone said. "But that's all being handled in Connecticut, so she went home."

"Did she have some legitimate claim?" Kramer asked.

"Not that I'm aware of," Stone said. He was skating close to a line here, but he hadn't quite crossed it.

"Palm Beach, you said?"

"That's right."

"What did she do there?"

"She said she wrote a society column for one of the local papers."

"That's all you know about her?"

"That's it," Stone said.

"Is there going to be some sort of investigation of the accident?" Kramer asked.

"Beats me," Stone said, "but the airplane went down in water deeper than a hundred fathoms, so I doubt if they could find much of it, even with a load of experts, which they don't seem to have around here."

"That's over six hundred feet," Forrester said. "No diver could go that deep; they'd need some sort of submersible, I think."

"Something the St.Marks Navy, if there is one, probably doesn't have," Kramer chipped in. "Do you know if she had any family?"

"She didn't say, but I got the impression she was unmarried. Her passport was still in the name of Manning, and they had probably been divorced for a good ten years."

"How long had Manning been married to Allison when he died?"

"Four years."

"Did the two women know each other?"

"They never met."

"You think the other Mrs.Manning just came down here in the hope of money, then?"

"Seems that way, but please don't quote me as having said so."

"Is somebody notifying next of kin?"

"I suppose the local police will handle that."

"Stone," Forrester said, "do you think she might have been some sort of help to you at Allison's trial?"

Stone shook his head. "I can't imagine how. I don't think she had seen Paul since the divorce."

"Did Sir Winston Sutherland know she was here?" Kramer asked.

Stone shrugged. "I don't think so. He was here for dinner last night; she was sitting with me, and they didn't speak."

"I take it you didn't introduce them," Kramer said dryly.

"I'm not the social director around here," Stone said with a straight face.

Kramer laughed. "Can't say I blame you."

"I suppose it will make an interesting footnote to my piece," Forrester said.

"I haven't seen you taking any notes," Kramer observed.

"I have a very good me memory," Forrester said. Then he frowned, placed a hand on his belly, and stood up quickly. "Uh-oh," he said, then ran for the stairs.

"I guess he wasn't feeling as well as he thought," Kramer said.

"I guess not," Stone agreed.

"Stone, you've answered all of my questions, but why do I have the feeling there's something you haven't told me?"

"About what?"

"About this Elizabeth Manning?"

"I never saw the woman before yesterday; never heard of her, either."

"Did she demand money from Allison?"

Not until after her lawyer had made her an offer, Stone reflected. "No," he replied.

"Was she headed for Connecticut to pursue something with the estate?"

"Not to my knowledge," he said.

"If she had, would she have had a claim?"

"There's no mention of her in Paul Manning's will."

Kramer closed her notebook. "Well, I'll phone this in after breakfast."

They ate their food in silence, then Thomas waved at Stone, and he went to the bar.

"Fax for you," Thomas said.

Stone took a stool and read through Libby 's divorce decree, then he laughed out loud. "What?" Thomas asked.

"Nothing," Stone replied. "By the way, did Libby Manning make any phone calls last night?"

"Nope; no calls on her bill. Anyway, you told me to unplug her phone."

"Right." Stone was looking at Libby's divorce decree, at the instructions for alimony. "Plaintiff shall pay to the defendant the sum of three thousand dollars a month on the first day of every month," he read, "beginning immediately and continuing for a period of ten years." He checked the date on the decree. Libby Manning's alimony had run out three weeks earlier. She must have been desperate, he thought, but she had been cool enough to shake down Allison for four hundred thousand dollars, with his help.

He walked away shaking his head.