Chester killed the engines. Stone watched until the Jeep had driven through the airport gates, then went and got her duffel and briefcase from the luggage compartment. He didn’t know what was in that briefcase, but he knew that he didn’t want Sir Winston Sutherland rooting around in there. Poor Allison Manning, he thought. She’s in for a rough time, and I suppose I’m going to have to help her.

Chapter
7

Stone drove back to Markstown, mulling over what he might do to help Allison Manning. There wasn’t a whole lot, he reckoned. He could find her a local lawyer, and that was about it. Then he recalled that Sir Winston had asked him, during the fateful coroner’s jury, if he were licensed to practice in Britain. Maybe, with the help of Woodman and Weld in New York, he could get hold of some high-class British barrister and have him flown in, if Allison Manning could afford it. He parked the car behind Thomas Hardy’s restaurant and walked in.

Thomas was alone at the bar, writing on a steno pad. He looked up as Stone came in. “I heard,” he said. “Chester called me.”

“It looks bad,” Stone said, taking a stool and handing Thomas the arrest warrant. “I’m going to have to find her a first-class barrister.”

Thomas shoved a pad across the bar. “I thought that might be the case. Here’s a list of three who might—I stress, might—take her on.”

Stone read four names. “What about the fourth name?”

“First we’d better call the first three. Shall I?”

“Please.”

Thomas picked up the phone and dialed a number.

Ten minutes later, after the third call, Thomas hung up the phone.

“Well?” Stone said.

“No hope,” Thomas replied. “The word is out that Sir Winston really wants this one—nobody knows exactly why—and nobody is going to go up against him right at this moment in time, with an election coming up soon. The consensus seems to be that a conviction would give him a lot of favorable publicity, and nobody wants to get between Sir Winston and publicity.”

“What if Sir Winston should lose the case?”

“As far as I can tell from these phone conversations, nobody in the legal community thinks he’s going to.”

“How about somebody else?”

“Not a chance,” Thomas said. “I eliminated most of them before I made my list. Those three were the only ones who might have opposed Sir Winston.”

“What about the fourth name on the list?”

“Sir Leslie Hewitt,” Thomas said.

“Yes, what about him?”

“He’ll represent her,” Thomas said. “He hates Sir Winston’s guts, as his father before him did.”

“Well, then, give him a call.”

Thomas shook his head. “You don’t understand.”

“Explain it to me.”

“Leslie was once a first-rate barrister, one of the best, in fact.”

“And now?”