Stuart Woods - Dead In The Water

Libby leaned forward. "Who is that extraordinary looking black fella?" she asked.

"His name is Sir Winston Sutherland," Stone replied, keeping his voice down, "and he is the worst nightmare of any white woman traveling alone in this country."

Her eyes widened. "How do you mean?"

"His greatest pleasure seems to be finding innocent American girls, charging them with capital crimes, and hanging them without much of a trial. Allison is his most recent victim."

"He's the one who's prosecuting her?"

Stone nodded. "Take my advice, Libby; avoid him at all costs, and whatever you do, don't let him find out who you are."

Libby downed the rest of her martini and started on the wine. "Why should I be afraid of him?"

"Well, another rich American widow might be a tempting target."

"Rich? Me?"

"Well, Paul was fairly rich, wasn't he? Sir Winston knows all about that."

"Jesus, Paul was only sending me ten thousand dollars a month."

"Three thousand," Stone said, sipping his wine.

"Well, I'm sure he must have provided for me in his will."

Stone took the document from his envelope and handed it to her. "I think you'd better read his will."

She dug some glasses out of her handbag and read quickly. "That shit," she said under her breath. "That utter and complete shit. I'll get a lawyer and sue his estate."

"On what grounds?" Stone asked.

"Oh, a lawyer will come up with something."

"Libby, the kind of lawyer who would take your case would bleed you dry before the court even ruled, and then you'd get nothing."

"I'd still get my alimony," she said.

"Maybe. I won't know that until I see your divorce decree. A copy is being faxed to me from Miami tomorrow morning."

She blinked rapidly, but said nothing.

"Libby, if you should sue the estate, it will upset Allison very badly, and right now, she holds the purse strings. She'll stop paying your alimony until a court rules otherwise, and that could take a long time. Are prepared to get by on the salary from your newspaper column in Palm Beach until it all gets sorted out? It take years."

"Oh, I'll get by all right; don't you worry," she said, smiling, but she was still blinking rapidly.

"Let me make a suggestion," Stone said.

"Go right ahead."

"Suppose Allison gave you, say, ten years of alimony, all at once. That would be three hundred and sixty thousand dollars in your bank account, right now."

"Right now?"

"The minute the check clears."

Libby stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. "No, sir; I want a million dollars."

"Allison has authorized me to offer you four hundred thousand dollars," Stone said, "and not a cent more." He took the check out of his pocket, filled in her name and the amount, and handed it to her.

Libby put on her glasses again and looked at the check. "Yeah," she said, "and as soon as I'm out of here she'll stop payment."

"No, she won't do that," Stone replied, handing her the document he had written a few minutes before.

She began reading.

"You see, it says that if she stops payment, you can sue her. And four hundred thousand dollars, wisely invested, should give you an annual income that represents a substantial raise over what you're getting now. And you'd always have that nest egg to fall back on." He took the document, filled in the amount, and handed it to her. "Allison's signature is already at the bottom, and her signature is on the check."

She looked up at him, obviously tempted.

"If you demand more, Allison will fight you, and she's the one with all the money. All you have to do is sign both copies of that document, have Thomas witness it, then go upstairs, get a good night's sleep, and take the first plane back to Miami tomorrow morning. The reservation has already been made."

Still, she hesitated.

"The money can be in your bank account within three business days, if you ask your bank to rush it."

"Suppose Allison gets hanged next week? What then?"

"The money's still yours. But if she hangs and you sue her estate, then you'll have to fight Allison's heirs, and they're going to care even less about you than she does. At least she's trying to do the right thing, even though she doesn't have to."

Libby Manning stood up and walked over to the bar, clutching the documents, with Stone right behind her. "Thomas," she said, "will you witness my signature, please?"

"Of course," Thomas said, watching her sign the documents, then signing them himself.

She handed Stone his copy and tucked her copy and check into her handbag. "What time is the first flight tomorrow morning?" she asked him.

"Chester flies at eight o'clock sharp. Would you like me to drive you to the airport?"

"Thank you, yes," she said. She held out her hand to and shook his. "Thank you for your assistance, Mr.Barrington," she said, then she turned and marched upstairs.

Thomas looked at Stone. "I take it the matter is settled?"

"It is. Call Chester and get her on that plane,no matter who he has to throw off."

"Right."

"And kill her telephone; I don't want her talking to anybody tonight. Oh, and send her a bottle of good champagne on me; I want her to sleep well."

Thomas smiled broadly. "Right."

Stone walked toward the door. As he did, Sir Winston Sutherland smiled at him and raised a hand. Stone smiled broadly and returned his salute. Then he glanced out of the restaurant toward the marina and saw something he did not wish to see. Allison was walking fast across the lawn toward the inn, her arms pumping, and she had an angry and determined look on her face. Stone, without actually running, Went to head her off.

He met her thirty yards from the inn and grabbed her arm, spinning her around. He tucked her arm in his and started steering her back toward the marina.

"Let go of me!" she erupted, struggling to flee her arm.

"Shut up, Allison, and keep walking toward the boat," he said through clenched teeth.

She continued to struggle. "I'm not giving that bitch a thin dime!" she hissed. "Let go of my arm!"

"Allison, you and I cannot have a wrestling match on the lawn; Sir Winston Sutherland is up there having dinner with his wife. Don't make a scene!"

That stopped the struggle, but did nothing for Allison's temper. "I'll kill her!" she hissed.

"Shut up! That's all we need is for somebody to hear you say that. It would make very interesting testimony at your trial!" He stopped walking. "Now, I want you to go back to the yacht and calm yourself. I'll be there in a few minutes, and I'll explain everything to you."

"Oh, all right," she said and stalked off toward the marina.

Stone watched to see that she went all the way, then he walked back to the bar and ordered another drink. He wanted to be sure that Sir Winston left the restaurant without running into Libby Manning.

Stone smelled cooking as he boarded Expansive. He found Allison below, with lamb chops on the stove. "Smells good," he said.

"Want some?" she asked. Her fit of temper seemed to be over.

"No, thanks. I had something to eat with the former Mrs.Manning." He poured himself a glass of wine from an open bottle on the saloon table.

"So how did it go?" Allison, asked, looking anxious.

"If I tell you, do you promise not to go up there and kill her?"

"I promise; I'm sorry about the way I behaved. I just got to thinking about the avaricious bitch, and it got the better of me."

"She accepted your offer."

Allison groaned. "And how much did I offer?"

"Four hundred thousand."

"Jesus. Did she sign something?"

Stone handed her the document and watched as she read it. "Don't worry,it's ironclad."

Allison threw her arms around him. "And you saved me a hundred thousand dollars!"