“Holy mother! She’s good, isn’t she? She meets this guy, what, three weeks ago, and now he’s paying her ex-husband two million bucks to go away?”

“You’ve got it.”

“Well, Thad is either the sweetest guy in the world or the dumbest, or both,” Dino said.

“Don’t talk about my client that way,” Stone said.

“Yeah, yeah, I know; he pays his legal bills.”

“That’s very important,” Stone said.

“And you don’t even know if he’s really going to go away.”

“Oh, I know that,” Stone said. “When the FBI takes him away, he’ll be gone.”

“How do you know they can get a conviction?” Dino asked. “After all, when he gets Thad’s two million, he’s going to be able to afford a very good lawyer.”

“I thought you said they have his fingerprint on a note he handed a teller.”

“Sure they do,” Dino said. “Gee, I hope the FBI hasn’t misplaced it during the years that have passed since the robbery. They would never do that, would they?”

“They’ll have the tellers’ identification of Manning,” Stone said.

“How do you know? Maybe he dressed up like Ronald McDonald. And it’s been four years since the last robbery. I’d be willing to bet you that at least one of the four tellers is dead, and a couple more are retired and living in Costa Rica or someplace, and that the remaining one has come down with Alzheimer’s. And even if one of them is still around and can identify Manning, Ginsky is going to turn him inside out on the witness stand. ‘But, sir, it’s been four years since you say you saw the robber, and you also say he was wearing a red wig, a big nose and floppy shoes. How could you possibly say that man is my client?’”

“You’re starting to annoy me, Dino.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, you’re not nearly as annoyed as you’re going to be when Manning gets off scot-free and hires somebody to put his ex-wife at the bottom of Lake Worth in a concrete bikini.”

Stone ran a red light, thinking about that.

Chapter 51

51

STONE GOT LIZ TO THE COURTHOUSE HALF AN HOUR early. He wanted to talk to Ed Ginsky before they went into the judge’s chambers. There was too much happening this morning over which he had no control, and he didn’t like it.

They had been sitting in the empty courtroom A for ten minutes, when a balding man in his mid-thirties came in.

“Are you Stone Barrington?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Fred Williamson.”

“Hello, Fred. This is Mrs. Manning.”

“Don’t call me that,” Liz snapped.

“Everybody’s going to call you that today, Liz. Just get used to it.”

Williamson shook her hand as if he were afraid she might bite it.

“I want to speak to Ginsky before we go into chambers,” Stone said.