with him for more interviews." "Uh-oh." "You said it."

"She's not your girl anymore? ..... "Worse; she's now Mrs. Vance Calder. They were married yesterday; I got a fax." "Hoof Well, at least you lost her to somebody spectacular." Stone shrugged. "I wonder if that's better than having her run off with a CPA?" "What's her name?" "Arrington Carter." "Jesus; I know her." Kramer shook her head. "Well, a little, not much. She is very beautiful." "Don't rub it in." She started. "Does anybody know about this?"

"Just you and me."

She looked at her watch. "I wonder if I can still make tomorrow's paper."

"Oh, no you don't," Stone said.

Kramer fell back into her chair. "Oh, shit, I promised, didn't I?"

"You promised. Anyway, it's not your kind of story, is it?"

"No, but it would have been nice for the Chronicle column, which is the nearest thing the Times has to gossip, and nobody would have believed that I could get the beat on the story."

"Leave the Calders in peace," Stone said. "They're holed up, hoping that somebody like you won't find them until they're ready to spring the news themselves."

"Well, that's the last story I expected to get in St.

Marks." She looked up. "Here comes Jim." "Don't mention Arlington to him." "Okay."

Forrester ambled up and sat down, tossing a business card onto the table. "Well, thanks a lot, Stone; you got me into a conversation with a life insurance salesman."

Stone looked at the card. "Frank R. Stendahl, Boston Mutual," he read.

"I barely got away with my shirt You owe me a drink."

Stone waved at Thomas and pointed at Forrester, then made a drinking motion. "So, Jim, you think he's for real?"

"You want his whole story?"

"You bet."

"He's divorced, with two teenage kids; he lives in Massachusettsthat's near Boston--his wife got house and nearly everything else, and he makes the year. I believe that, too: him I was getting a divorce, hoping that would him off the subject of insurance, and he had ten ready why a born-again bachelor would need coverage!" "I owe you two drinks," Stone said. "You owe me dinner," Forrester replied. "Okay, okay; probably not tonight, but before we

"I want to debrief you after the trial anyway; maybe that over dinner."

Kramer spoke up. "Only if I can be there, too."

Forrester laughed. "It's a good thing you and I

direct competitors."

"Jim," Stone said. "Does Stendahl remind you of

Forrester looked toward the bar. "Remind me Of body?"

"Maybe of Paul Manning, a little?" Forrester looked thoughtful.

"Well, they're about I : the same size and build, but apart from that they don't really look alike."

"Even taking the absence of a beard into account?" Forrester shook his head. "Very different in manner i and accent, and not. at all the same face, even without the i beard. What, did you think he might not be dead after all?

"It crossed my mind for a fleeting moment. My life certainly be a lot simpler if Paul Manning walked :in here and sat down at the bar."

"Well, put your mind at rest, pal; I mean, maybe Manning's out there swimming around somewhere, but that ain't him at the bar."

"And you're the only one here who knew him," Stone said, sighing.

"Allison knew him; give her a look at Stendahl and see what she has to say."

Stone shook his head. "I wouldn't put her through that."

Forrester looked sympathetic. "That would solve a lot of problems for you, wouldn't it? I mean, if Stendahl 'were Manning."

"It certainly would," Stone agreed.

Kramer spoke up. "It would get Allison off, but Stendahl would sure be in a lot of trouble."

"Yes, he would," Stone said. "Although I'm not sure what they might charge him with in St. Marks."

Forrester laughed. "It would be funny, wouldn't it? Stendahl/Manning stands up in court and says, "I am the deceased; let my wife go!" I can just see Sir Winston's face."

They all had a good laugh.

CHAPTER.

t was their last night. before

"Want to go to dinner at the inn?" Stone asked. She shook her head.

"I don't want to be on display.

dinner for you aboard." "Why don't I cook dinner for you instead?."."

he

"No, that would have too much of the condemned's about it."

"Come on, I don't want you to worry about the

"I am serene," she said, and she certainly seemed way. "I'd just rather do something normal, like cooking. In fact, I've already thawed a chateaubriand in

"Sounds wonderful. Can I make a Caesar salad? "Oh, all right, but just the salad. There's some romaine lettuce in the supplies Thomas sent down."

SU.ROODS.

"And I need fresh eggs, olive oil, garlic, some Dijon mustard, and a can of anchovies."