Stuart Woods - Cold Paradise

“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 FedExed 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 on 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.

When 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 three 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.