"I'm okay. I guess I wasn't expecting a conviction; don't get much of this sort of thing in the travel business."

"Speaking of travel writing, do you think you could call some of your travel editors and get them to send telegrams of protest to the prime minister first thing in the morning? If he thinks hanging Allison is going to hurt his tourist trade, maybe that'll help."

"I'll could call a couple of people tonight," Forrester replied.

"Good, now I've got to run back to the marina, make calls, and get some things for Allison."

"Stone," Kramer said, "give me one good quote for my piece."

"The defense is absolutely shocked at this outrageous verdict. In the United States this case would have been dismissed out of hand, and now we face the prospect of St.Marks executing an innocent American woman who has already been devastated by the entirely natural death of her husband. If this happens, no American will ever be safe in St.Marks again. I urge every American who cares about justice to wire or fax the prime minister of St.Marks in protest."

"Great!" Kramer replied.

"Hilary, I know it's late, but this piece isn't going to do Allison any good if it runs the day after tomorrow. Is there any way you can get it into tomorrow's edition?"

"I may have to break some legs, but I'll get it done."

"Thanks; I have to go now."

Thomas was waiting at the door. "How is she?"

"Much better; she's eating, anyway, Can you run me to the marina, then let me borrow your car to get back here?"

"Of course; let's go."

As they pulled up at the marina, Stone saw the fast motor yacht that Allison had previously chartered pulling into a berth.

"What's that doing back?" Thomas asked.

"It's been in Guadeloupe waiting for a call from Allison to pick her up. Would you tell them that Mrs.Chapman has been delayed and to stick around until tomorrow? I hope she'll be here to go aboard."

"Sure." Thomas handed over his car keys, then walked off toward the big motor yacht.

Stone went aboard Expansive and ran down below. In a moment he had the satellite phone up and running and a call in to Bill Eggers's home.

"Hello?"

"Thank God you're there," Stone said.

"Stone! What's up? How did the trial go?"

"She was convicted."

"What?"

"I'm not kidding, Bill, and we've got less than twenty-four hours to save her life. Here's what I want you to do."

"I've got a pencil; shoot."

"Start with the State Department: call the duty officer and ask him to alert the Caribbean desk that an innocent American citizen is about to be hanged in St.Marks. Demand that they call the secretary of state and have him bring to bear every ounce of influence he can muster. No, wait-first call the chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee-it's Jesse Helms, God help us-and get him to call the secretary of state. Call Dodd and Lieberman of Connecticut and get onto him as well. Hell, tell them to call the president."

"You think they'll do that?"

"They might; we have to try. Call both Phil Woodman and Max Weld and see if you can get them to make some calls. Then call your PR people and tell them to start calling reporters at home and the wire services. We need an all-out mobilization between now and tomorrow morning. Everything should be directed to prime minister of St.Marks; it's all in his hands now. Tell the PR people to call travel editors, too; we've got to let them know that hanging Allison will kill their tourist, business. Jim Forrester is calling a couple of them."

"Who?"

"Forrester is down here doing a piece for The New Yorker, but he's done a lot of travel writing."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"Anything you can think of, Bill. I'm absolutely desperate, and we don't have a minute to waste. I want the prime minister to wake up tomorrow morning to the sound of his phone ringing; I want his fax machine flooded with indignant letters; I want to scare the living shit out of him."

"I'm on it." Eggers hung up the phone.

Stone switched off the satellite phone and started getting Allison's things together. It was nearly midnight when Stone drove up to the jail door and found it locked. He rang the bell for three minutes before a sleepy, barefoot cop opened the door. "What do you want, mister?" he demanded.

"My name is Barrington; I'm Mrs.Manning's lawyer. I want to see her."

"You can't do that, man; we're shut down for the night. Anyway, she's asleep; you don't want to wake her up, do you?"

Stone shoved the duffel through the door. "Will you see that she gets these things, then?"

"Okay, I'll do that first thing in the morning."

"Thank you, and will you tell her I was here? Tell her not to worry; everything is going to be all right."

The man looked surprised. "You want me to tell her that? Everything ain't going to be all right, you know."

"Just tell her what I said, please."

"Okay, okay. Good night now." He closed the door and shot the bolt.

Stone got back into Thomas's car and drove back to the marina, worded; exhausted, and barely able to keep his eyes open.

Stone got five fitful hours of sleep aboard Expansive, then threw himself into a cold shower so that he would be fully alert, He made some coffee, ate a muffin, and started making lists of things to do. At 7:00. A.M. he called Bill Eggers.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Okay, here's a rundown. I couldn't get to Senator Helms, but I did get to one of his staff; I told him the prime minister was a suspected communist."

"Good going."

"Woodman and Weld were also going to call him. I talked to the duty officer at the State Department and he put me through to the head of the Caribbean desk at home. He promised to try to get permission to send a cable in the secretary of state's name. I'll call him back after nine to see how he did. Oh, Woodman called the president last night; he was unavailable, but he did get the White House chief of staff on the line, which is almost as good. He had seen the 60 Minutes report and promised to get some sort of protest out first thing this morning."

"That's wonderful, Bill. Anything else?"

"The PR people have been on it all night; they'll report to me at the office at nine. I'm afraid we're going to miss a lot of morning editions, but they think we'll make some of them." "Hilary Kramer promised me she'd get us in the Times this morning."

"Hang on," Eggers said, "I'll see." He was gone for a moment, then returned. "She made the front page, lower right-hand corner, continued inside. It's good stuff, Stone, and she quoted you about every American sending a wire."

"Thank God we made that one."

"I'm sure we'll be all over the morning television shows, too; you want to be interviewed over the phone?"

"I'm going to be too busy; you do it."

"If they'll talk to me."

"Tell them you're Allison's attorney, too."

"Okay. I'd better get on that right now; they're already on the air." He hung up.

Stone switched on the television and, over the satellite dish, got the Today show. An hour later he heard Katie Couric interviewing Eggers and Eggers reading out the prime minister's fax number.

"Yes!" Stone screamed. He got into some clothes, jumped into Thomas's car, and headed for Government House. The jail door was open this time, and after searching him, they let him into Allison's cell. He held her close a moment, then looked at her. She seemed surprisingly normal. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm nervous as a cat," she said, "but I got some sleep last night, amazingly enough."

"I was here late last night, but they wouldn't let me in."

"I got the things this morning," she said. "Thank you so much."

From the window over the heavy wooden door outside the cell came a loud noise-a creaking of hinges, a slap of wood against wood, and another sound that made chills run up Stone's spine. "What's that?" Allison asked.