Chapters (75)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Chapter1
- Chapter2
- Chapter3
- Chapter4
- Chapter5
- Chapter6
- Chapter7
- Chapter8
- Chapter9
- Chapter10
- Chapter11
- Chapter12
- Chapter13
- Chapter14
- Chapter15
- Chapter16
- Chapter17
- Chapter18
- Chapter19
- Chapter20
- Chapter21
- Chapter22
- Chapter23
- Chapter24
- Chapter25
- Chapter26
- Chapter27
- Chapter28
- Chapter29
- Chapter30
- Chapter31
- Chapter32
- Chapter33
- Chapter34
- Chapter35
- Chapter36
- Chapter37
- Chapter38
- Chapter39
- Chapter40
- Chapter41
- Chapter42
- Chapter43
- Chapter44
- Chapter45
- Chapter46
- Chapter47
- Chapter48
- Chapter49
- Chapter50
- Chapter51
- Chapter52
- Chapter53
- Chapter54
- Chapter55
- Chapter56
- Chapter57
- Chapter58
- Chapter59
- Chapter60
- Chapter61
- Chapter62
- Chapter63
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- “We Are Very Different People”:
- Stone Barrington: The First Five
- About the Author
- Critical Acclaim forStuart Woods and
- Books by Stuart Woods
- Credits
- About the Publisher
Stone parked Thomas’s car in its usual place and left the keys in it, as Thomas often did. His business with Leslie Hewitt apparently concluded for the time being, he wanted now to talk with Jim Forrester again, and he was lucky enough to find him at the bar, talking to Thomas.
“Hi, Jim; have you got a few minutes for me?”
“Sure, Stone, what’s up?”
“I want to go through your testimony with you; make sure we’re both on the same page.”
“Great, let’s get a table.”
Thomas held up an envelope. “Fax for you,” he said to Stone.
“Thanks, Thomas,” he said, stuffing the envelope into his pocket. He’d read it when he was through with Forrester. He followed the reporter to a table, and they got comfortable. “Jim, I’ll just ask you some questions, the way I will at the trial, and you answer them as you see fit. If I don’t like the way you answer a question, we’ll talk about rephrasing.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“Have you ever testified in court before?”
“No.”
“They’ll ask you your name for the record.”
“Right.”
“Now I’m on my feet in my robe and my wig, and…”
“Wig? You have to wear a wig?”
“I’m afraid so. You’ll have to try not to laugh; it wouldn’t look good for me in front of the jury.”
“I’ll do my best, but I’m not promising anything.”
“All right, Mr. Forrester, what is your occupation?”
“I’m a magazine writer.”
“And what brings you to St. Marks?”
“I intend to write an article about this trial for an American magazine.”
“I see. Now, were you acquainted with Paul Manning?”
“Yes, I knew him in college.”
“Tell us how you met him.”
“We were on the same basketball team.”
“Hang on, Jim; I thought you told me you played against him.”
Forrester shook his head and raised the glass from which he was drinking. “I’m sorry, Stone; the booze must be going to my head.”
“Let’s start again; tell the court how you and Mr. Manning first met.”
“We went to college in nearby towns—he to Cornell, I to Syracuse.”
“Spell it out for them; say Cornell University and Syracuse University in New York State.”
“Okay.”
“Go on.”
“We were both members of the same fraternity, Sigma Alpha Epsilon, and we had an interfraternity basketball league that included both universities.”
“Just say club, and don’t bother with the Greek; this jury isn’t likely to know much about American college fraternities. In fact, just say you played in the same league.”
“Right. Paul Manning and I both played on basketball teams, and we sometimes played against each other.”
“And how well did you know him?”
“Fairly well, but we were not close.”