The judge nodded. “Mrs. Manning, Mr. Manning, you’re both obviously mature adults. Mrs. Manning, is it your desire to end your marriage?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Liz replied.

“Mr. Manning?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Are you both completely satisfied with the terms of the property settlement on my desk? Mrs. Manning?”

“Yes, I am, Your Honor.”

“Mr. Manning?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“I would certainly assume that you are satisfied, since you are receiving a settlement of two million dollars. Mrs. Manning, does that sum represent a part of your net worth that you can afford to part with?”

“It does, Your Honor.”

Especially since she isn’t parting with it, Stone thought.

“Has any duress been brought upon you to part with such a sum?”

“No, Your Honor,” Liz replied.

“Very well, then, I . . .” The judge stopped and looked oddly at Liz. “I beg your pardon, but have we met before, Mrs. Manning?”

“No, Your Honor,” Liz replied. “I think I would remember,” she added, flatteringly.

“Wait a minute,” the judge said. “Aren’t you Winston Harding’s widow?”

Uh-oh, Stone thought. Here’s trouble.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Liz replied, as if it were the most natural question in the world, in the circumstances.

“I’m confused,” the judge said. “Mr. Harding died only late last year, didn’t he?”

“That’s right, Your Honor,” Liz said, still not getting it.

“And when were you married to Mr. Manning?”

Stone opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Liz had no such problem. “Oh, Paul and I were married before Winston and I.” Then she realized what she had said and froze.

Stone still couldn’t think of anything to say, and Fred Williamson was looking at him in panic.

Then Paul Manning spoke up. “Your Honor, may I explain?”

“I wish to God somebody would,” the judge replied.

“Your Honor, Mrs. Manning and I were married eight years ago. Then, four years ago, I was accused of murder in a Caribbean country—unjustly, I might add. I was tried, convicted and sentenced to death. Then, at the last moment, the truth came out, and I was pardoned.”

Stone looked at Ed Ginsky and thanked God it was Ginsky’s client who was lying to the judge and not his own. Ginsky seemed, as well, to have lost the power of speech.

“Congratulations,” said the judge, but he still looked baffled.

“Mrs. Manning had already left the island, having done everything she could, and she was under the impression that I had been executed. By the time I was released, we had lost touch, and it was only recently that she learned that I was still alive. So, you see, she married Mr. Harding in good faith, believing that I was dead. In fact, she had been given a death certificate.”