“Well, I knew that when Frances and Paul married, she insisted on a prenuptial agreement that severely limited any inheritance for him in the event of her death. The bulk of her estate was to go to a local art museum. When Arthur told me Paul had sold the house, I mentioned the prenup, and he told me that Frances had rescinded the prenup and had made a new will.”

“When?”

“Less than a month before her death.”

“I see.”

Wilkes rubbed his forehead. “I think I see, too. I didn’t want to believe it, but now . . .”

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions just yet,” Stone said. “Let’s wait until we know more.”

Wilkes nodded. “You’re right,” he said.

“And please don’t do anything that might make Bartlett feel that your relationship with him has changed, or that you don’t want to see or talk to him.”

“I’ll try,” Wilkes said. “Margaret will, too.”

As they left the party, Stone called Chief Dan Griggs.

“Dan, can you meet me at your office?” Stone asked. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Sure, Stone. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Stone took a minute to bring Griggs up to date on what he had learned that evening.

Griggs nodded as he heard the story. “So, if Bartlett is Manning, and if he killed his wife for her money, he has committed a crime, after all. We’d have grounds for an arrest.”

“I think you’d have to have a long talk with the Minneapolis police department before we’d know about that,” Stone said. “After all, if they’d suspected him, they’d probably have already arrested him.”

“Good point,” Griggs admitted.

“We may be able to confirm his identity anyway,” Stone said. “Callie, the glass?”

Callie removed the liqueur glass from her purse and set it on the table.

Stone picked it up by the stem and held it against the light. “There’s at least one good print on here,” he said.

Griggs picked up the phone and pressed a couple of buttons. “Sam, it’s Griggs,” he said. “I want you to lift some prints from a drinking glass and run them through the computer.” He hung up, and almost immediately, a detective came into the room, took the glass and went away with it.

“Well,” Stone said, rising, “let me know what results you get.”

“Hang on,” Griggs said. “This won’t take as long as you think.” He got up and left the office for a few minutes, then returned. “A good right thumbprint and two partials,” he said. “My guy is running them through the FBI computer now. Come on, let’s go see what he comes up with.”

Stone and Callie followed Griggs down a hallway to another office, where the detective was sitting at a computer.

“Got anything yet, Sam?” Griggs asked.