“It’s a little different,” Griggs replied. “In the Old West, I’d have threatened to shoot him if he showed his face in town again. Nowadays, I’d just make sure the local and Florida papers heard the whole story, and once everybody had heard about it and gossiped about it, he wouldn’t be able to show his face in town again. We had a guy down here a few years back that had kidnapped his young kids when a divorce didn’t go his way. Established himself here under another name and stayed for years until his wife caught up with him. Now he’s persona non grata among the people he knew best. That, I can do to Bartlett, or whatever his name is.”

“It isn’t enough,” Liz said. “He could still try to kill me.”

Lundquist turned and stared at her. “Just when I thought I had a grip on this story…”

“Mrs. Harding was once married to Paul Manning,” Stone said. “We didn’t mention that before.”

“Oh,” Lundquist said, tonelessly. He was massaging his temples, like someone trying to hold on to his sanity.

“Maybe your lab will come up with something else in the car,” Stone said.

“Maybe, but I’m not going to count on it,” Lundquist replied. “We do have the fact that he got his wife to cancel the prenuptial agreement and make a new will. That’s motive.”

“Oh, you have both motive and opportunity,” Stone said, “but a good lawyer would make a conviction very difficult to obtain. It’s like this: I’m his lawyer, and I stand up in front of the jury. Ladies and gentlemen, my client had no criminal intent when he changed his name. Bad people were after him, and he had to protect himself. Why, it was the government itself that changed his name first. There’s no evidence that he put pressure on his wife to change her will. No, she did that out of love and affection for my client, who is a very loveable and affectionate fellow, crushed by the loss of his bride. My client doesn’t have the technical expertise to tamper with a finely made piece of German engineering, and after all, he was in the same car; he could have been just as easily killed. And on and on like that.”

“This is very depressing,” Lundquist said.

Dino spoke up. “It might help in court if you proved he was Paul Manning, who had already murdered three other people in St. Marks, even if he got away with it.”

“I could get his past ruled out as evidence,” Stone said, “on the grounds that it was irrelevant and prejudicial, and if I couldn’t, I’d say he was railroaded by a corrupt foreign government. No, Mr. Bartlett has crafted himself a very nice little box to live in. And, Dan, if you got him run out of Palm Beach, he’d just go to Palm Springs, or some other place with an inviting climate, and establish himself all over again under another identity. And now he’s got the money to make himself credible in a place like that.”

Everybody was quiet for a while.

Finally, Dino spoke up again. “Unless we staked out Liz like a goat for a lion, then waited to see what happened.”

The four of them got out of the two cars at the Breakers Golf Club and gave three bags of clubs to the attendant. The clubhouse was modest, in comparison to the grandeur of the hotel, Stone thought. The weather, as predicted, had cleared beautifully, and it was much cooler after the front had passed through.

“But I don’t play golf,” Liz complained. “What am I doing here?”

“Playing chauffeur,” Stone said. “You can drive a cart. Also, you’re playing the goat.”

“I don’t think I like the goat idea,” she said. “Not when Paul is the lion.”

“Dino’s right,” Stone said, “as much as I hate to admit it. This is the only way to smoke him out. We’re not having much luck any other way. If we see him, you can identify him; if not, then at least we’ll be seen, and word may get back to him that you’re still around.”

“All right,” Liz said.

“This is a pretty chilly paradise you got here,” Dino said, zipping up his jacket to the neck.

“In more ways than one,” Callie said, as another group of golfers inspected them as they passed, staring hard.

They signed in at the clubhouse, then got into carts and drove to the first tee, where the starter cleared them to tee off.

The course was mostly flat and uninteresting. “It’s not the most attractive golf course I’ve ever seen,” Stone said.

“Don’t worry, they’re about to rip the whole thing up and completely rebuild it to new design,” Callie said.

“Ladies first,” Dino said, motioning Callie to drive.

Callie took a few practice swings, displaying good form, teed up a ball and struck it solidly. It flew down the middle of the fairway.

“About two hundred and twenty yards,” Stone said. He teed up and sliced his drive into the next fairway.

“Take a mulligan,” Callie said.

Stone took the mulligan and got it in the fairway, a good twenty yards short of Callie’s ball.

Dino teed up and hooked the ball into the rough. “Mulligan,” he said, teeing up another ball. He swung at that, and it landed no more than a yard from his first ball.

“Your grip is too strong,” Callie said, showing him how to turn his right hand to the left. “That should cure your hook.”

“Don’t count on it,” Stone said.

They trundled off down the fairway in their carts, playing at a good pace, now and then crossing South County Road.

“This is the most urban golf I’ve ever played,” Stone said. “Usually, on a golf course, you don’t have to worry about being hit by a car.”

“The Breakers has another course west of here,” Callie said. “Maybe we’ll play that one next time.”

They played on, occasionally running into a foursome in which Callie knew someone. Two people knew Liz and chatted with her.

“Word’s getting out,” Callie said. “You shouldn’t even try to keep a secret in this town, but we’re advertising. Liz, you’re the subject of much conversation since being seen with Thad at his party.”

“Grand,” Liz said.

They finished their round, went back to the clubhouse, had a beer, stowed their clubs in the two cars and prepared to depart the Breakers. Stone opened his cell phone and tapped in a number. “Okay, Dan, we’ve made our appearance at the Breakers, and we’re ready to move on to part two of our plan.”

“My guys are parked just down the road,” Griggs said.

“Tell them not to crowd the girls. We don’t want Bartlett picking up on cops.”

“Bartlett left the Colony half an hour ago, and he’s having lunch on Worth Avenue.”

“They’ll go shopping, then,” Stone said. “Dino and I will wait back at the yacht.”

“Right,” Griggs said.

Stone ended the call. “Okay, ladies, you are sentenced to Worth Avenue shopping for at least two hours. Liz, if you recognize Paul, don’t let on, just tell Callie so she can confirm who he is. You’ve got my cell phone number if you need to reach me.”

“I’d feel better if you and Dino came along,” Liz said.

“He knows us both, so we can’t do that. We’d just scare him off.”

“Oh, all right,” Liz said, disconsolately. She got into the car with Callie, and they drove off.

“There goes our goat,” Dino said. “But even if she makes him, Griggs isn’t going to have any grounds for an arrest.”

“Lundquist does, though. He can always bust him for the driver’s license, and that will at least get him out of our hair.”

“For the time being,” Dino said. “This guy ain’t going to go away easy.”

“You have a point,” Stone agreed.

They drove back to the yacht and waited. Dino got into a swimsuit and took up a strategic position on a chaise on the afterdeck, a rum and tonic at his elbow.

“You got anything to read?” he asked Stone.

Stone went into the saloon and came back with the novel Tumult that he had read a few days before. “Try this,” he said, handing it to Dino. “It’s very good.”