Simpson shook his head. “I don’t know, Marvin. Chester didn’t have nothing but that airplane and his house.”

“What about insurance?” the man demanded.

Simpson shook his head again. “Chester stopped paying the insurance last year. Said it was too much, it was going to break him.”

The man shook his head and sat down. Stone shook his head, too. That answered Harley Potter’s question.

“All right, then,” said the coroner, “the jury can retire to consider their verdict. I won’t recess for another fifteen minutes, because I don’t think it’s going to take long.”

The jury retired, and everyone stood up to stretch. Stone turned to find Hilary Kramer of the Times and Jim Forrester of The New Yorker in the row behind him.

“What brings you two here?” Stone asked.

“Nothing else to do,” Kramer replied. “Not until your case begins. I’ll file a short piece on the crash. You happen to know anything about the Manning woman, Stone?”

“As a matter of fact, I had a call from a lawyer in Palm Beach. She left an elderly mother—no other family.”

“No insurance for the mother, either,” Kramer said, jotting down some notes. “Got the mother’s name?”

“Marla Peters; a widow and retired actress.”

“Address?”

“No idea.”

“The lawyer?”

“Harley Potter of Potter and Potter.” He looked at Forrester. “I don’t see you taking any notes, Jim.”

Forrester grinned. “I’ll clip Hilary’s piece; it’ll all be in there. It’ll be no more than a marginal reference in my piece.”

“I guess not,” Stone agreed.

“What was Elizabeth Manning doing down here?” Kramer asked.

“She wanted to know if she was mentioned in Manning’s will. She wasn’t.”

“I heard you and she were looking over some documents in the Shipwright’s Arms,” she said. “What were they?”

“Paul Manning’s will; she wanted to see it.”

“When were they divorced?”

“Something like ten years ago, I think.”

“When were they married?”

“I don’t really know.”

“You’re a font of information, aren’t you?” Kramer said suspiciously. “Is there something you don’t want me to know?”

“Hilary,” Stone said, “why would I keep information from you?”

She was about to reply, but the jury was returning.

The coroner waited for everyone to be seated, then spoke. “Have you gentlemen reached a verdict? If so, read it.”

A man stood up. “We find that Chester Appleton, Alene Sanders, and Elizabeth Allison Manning met their deaths by misadventure,” he said, then sat down.

The coroner rapped sharply on his table. “A verdict of death by misadventure having been found, these proceedings are closed.”

Stone made his way forward and introduced himself to the coroner.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Barrington, I remember you from an earlier inquest.”