“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.