“What do you need?”

“I need for you to run his prints against unsolved crimes with no suspects.”

“Stone, you’re about to be rid of the guy. Why do you want to press this?”

“Because I have the awful feeling I’m never going to be rid of him. If he’s committed a crime somewhere in this country, and I can prove it, then I’d have something on him, something that would either keep him in line or put him in jail.”

Dino picked up a phone, called his office and asked them to run the Manning prints against unsolved crimes. “Shouldn’t take long,” he said. “Why do you think he might have committed a crime?”

“Because he’s apparently been earning less than a hundred thousand dollars a year, and I don’t think that’s enough to keep Paul Manning in the style to which he long ago became accustomed.”

The phone rang, and Stone picked it up.

“Mr. Barrington?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Fred Williamson. Somebody in Bill Eggers’s office at Woodman and Weld in New York asked me to call you about some divorce work.”

“Yes, of course. How do you do, Fred?”

“Very well, thanks, and divorce is a specialty of mine.”

“Glad to hear it. What I’ve got here is a petition from a Mrs. Allison Manning against Paul Manning. Mr. Manning has already waived a response, and we have a signed property settlement.”

“Where do the Mannings live?”

“In Palm Beach.” Stone gave him Liz’s West Indies Drive address.

“Shouldn’t be a problem, then. It’ll probably take a month to get it heard.”

“Do the Mannings have to appear?”

“Not necessary, as long as they’re in agreement on the terms and they’re both represented by counsel. Who’s his lawyer?”

“Edward Ginsky, of New York, but he’s licensed to practice in Florida.” Stone gave him Ginsky’s address and phone number.

“I’ll call him and get us on the court calendar.”

“Fred, is there any way to get this heard right away? And in chambers, if possible? I don’t want it to make the papers, even in the legal notices.”

“I know a judge who might hear it in chambers sooner, rather than later,” Williamson said.

“I’d appreciate it if you could handle it that way. Ginsky has his own jet. I’m sure he could appear on short notice, or appoint someone local to do it.”

“Who’s got the paperwork?”

“I have. Can you send a messenger for it?”

“Sure. Where?”

Stone gave him the address.

“I’ll have somebody there inside an hour.”

“Thanks, Fred. Call me if you need any further information.” Stone hung up. He went to his briefcase, extracted the documents, stuffed them into a manila envelope, wrote Williamson’s name on it and gave it to Juanito to leave with the security man guarding the front door.