Stone sensed his moment; he rose and addressed the coroner. “Pardon me, Your Honor,” he said. “My name is Stone Barrington; I am an American attorney, and Mrs. Manning has asked me to represent her in these proceedings. I wonder if I might put a few questions to her?”

Sir Winston spun and looked at him. “Are you licensed to practice in St. Marks or in Britain?” he demanded.

“No, I am not,” Stone said evenly, “but if these proceedings are so informal as to allow the minister of justice to question a witness at an inquest, then perhaps Mrs. Manning might be questioned by someone of her own choosing.”

“Well…” the coroner began.

“Are you a barrister? A trial lawyer?”

“I wasn’t aware that this was a trial,” Stone replied.

The coroner asserted himself. “I will permit Mr. Barrington to put questions to Mrs. Manning, if he believes he can shed some light on this matter.”

“I believe I can, Your Honor,” Stone said. He hadn’t the faintest idea how to address a coroner in a former British colony, but “Your Honor” seemed to do the trick. He picked up a manila folder, stepped forward, and addressed his new client. “Mrs. Manning, how did your husband earn his living?”

“He was a writer; he wrote spy and mystery novels, mostly; he had quite a following.”

“And when your husband was preparing to write a book, was it his practice to make notes?”

“Yes, he made very extensive notes, sometimes writing almost the whole book in telegraphic form.”

Stone picked up the leather-bound book from Sir Winston’s table. “In a form like the contents of this diary?” he asked.

“Exactly like that. Paul bought that blank-paged book in Las Palmas specifically for the purpose of outlining a new novel. He mentioned it to me over dinner, and he wrote in it often. He liked to save his notes in a bound form, because the university he attended had asked to be the repository for his personal and professional papers.”

“And why, when Sir Winston read you the passages from this outline, did you not mention your husband’s usual practice?”

“He didn’t give me a chance,” she said, casting a withering look at Sir Winston.

“I see,” Stone continued. “Mrs. Manning, what was your husband’s state of health shortly before his death?”

“Well, Paul had never been seriously ill, but he wasn’t in very good shape.”

“How do you know this?”

“We both had thorough physical examinations before we set out across the Atlantic.”

Stone removed a sheet of paper from the manila folder in his hand and presented it to her. “Is this a copy of your husband’s examination results?”

She looked at the paper, then handed it back. “Yes, it is.”