Sir Winston cleared his throat loudly. “To return to the first Mrs. Manning, what business did you and she discuss during her visit?”

Stone wondered if, somehow, Libby’s copy of the agreement had been found. “Sir Winston,” he said, “I am sure you understand that I am bound by the confidentiality strictures of the attorney-client relationship, but I think it would not be untoward for me to tell you that Elizabeth Manning, who was not a wealthy woman, had some notion of participating in her former husband’s estate. He had been paying alimony to her during the past ten years, a requirement of their divorce decree which had recently expired.”

“And did she participate in Mr. Manning’s estate?”

“Elizabeth Manning was disappointed to learn that she had not been mentioned in Mr. Manning’s will, and, the requirement for alimony having expired, she was entitled to nothing further.”

“So why were you and Mrs. Manning exchanging documents at dinner the other evening?”

“I can tell you only that the second Mrs. Manning, being of a kind nature, felt moved to improve the reduced circumstances of the first Mrs. Manning.”

“Improve to what extent?”

“I’m afraid that client confidentiality prevents me from saying more.”

Sir Winston stared at him for a long moment, then nodded at the waiter, who disappeared and came back with two platters of lobster salad. Sir Winston ate his lobster, sipped his champagne, and stared out to sea.

Stone ate his lunch, too, grateful for the opportunity to collect his thoughts. Clearly, Sir Winston had believed that he might turn the presence, or perhaps even the death, of Elizabeth Manning to his advantage in court. Stone was happy to disappoint him.

Sir Winston finished his lobster and sat back in his chair. “What else do you know of Elizabeth Manning?” he asked. “There is the matter of notification of next of kin, you see, and lacking her passport or other documents, we are somewhat at a loss as to how to proceed.”

“I know that Elizabeth Manning made her home in Palm Beach, Florida…”

“But you said that she was not a wealthy woman,” Sir Winston interrupted. “I should think that living in Palm Beach would be a very expensive matter. I have visited that city, you see.”

Stone shrugged. “Every American city, even the wealthiest, has neighborhoods that house those who are employed by the wealthy. I do not have Mrs. Manning’s address, but I am sure that she must have lived in such a neighborhood. She told me that she was employed by a small newspaper to write a column about Palm Beach society. It gave her a sort of entree to social events, but I imagine that her nose was very much pressed against the shop window of that society.”

“Mmmm,” Sir Winston mused.