“Yeah, I do; somebody had stolen his dinghy, and he wanted a new one, something special. It wasn’t available in Las Palmas, so he called somebody in Barcelona and had one sent.”

“A Parker Sportster?”

“Beats me.”

“Did he give any reason for wanting that particular dinghy?”

“Not that I can recall. He seemed obsessive about having just the right gear on his boat, I remember that well enough; every item on it seemed to have been chosen with great care.”

“Was the one that was stolen a Parker Sportster?”

“I don’t know, I guess so.”

“Thanks, Jim. Thomas, put Jim’s drink on my tab.”

Forrester grinned. “You think a New Yorker reporter would accept favors from a lawyer in a case he was writing about?”

“You bet I do.”

“You’re right,” Forrester said, raising his glass to Stone, then taking a big swig. He wandered off to find a lunch table.

Stone dialed his office number in New York, and his secretary answered. “Hi, it’s Stone,” he said. “What’s happening?”

“Not a hell of a lot,” she replied. “Arrington went to L.A., but she said she faxed you about that.”

“Yeah, she did.”

“There’s a lot of mail, mostly junk and bills; nothing that can’t wait until you’re back.”

“Listen, I want you to do something for me.”

“Shoot.”

“I want you to call a couple of marine supply houses and see if you can get me some information on a rubber dinghy called Parker Sportster—a brochure or something. Apparently it’s a high-end piece of equipment.”

“Okay; you want it sent to you?”

“Yeah, FedEx it, priority.”

“Anything else?”

“Not right now. Bob Cantor is coming home tomorrow; you can go ahead and reimburse his expenses and pay him for his time; he’s always short of money.”

“Okay.”

Stone hung up and returned to his table. Allison had arrived and was deep in conversation with Hilary Kramer, who was taking copious notes. He sat down and listened to the interview, which included most of the questions Wheaton had already asked her, but in more of a chronological order.

When they had finished talking, Allison returned to the yacht with Jim Forrester, whose turn it was for an interview.

Stone picked at the remains of his lunch. “Hilary, what did you think of Allison?” he asked.

“She’s a brave little thing, isn’t she?” Kramer replied. “If I had been in her shoes, I don’t know if I could have done what she did.”

“I’d like your opinion about something that might help me with the trial.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Did you find any holes in her story? Anything that was hard to believe?”

Kramer shook her head. “Not a thing; she’s a transparently honest girl; a jury is bound to see that.”

“Thanks, I’m glad to have my opinion reinforced,” he said. And Chris Wheaton’s opinion opposed, he thought.

Chapter
20