Dead in the Water Read Free Page A

Hall at ten o'clock the following morning, just as the coroner, a wizened little black man with snow white hair, was about to call the proceedings to order. A jury of five black men and one white sat on folding chairs along one side of the hall; the coroner sat on a folding chair at a card table at the front of the room, and the woman from the blue yacht sat in the front row of chairs, dressed in a trim black dress that set off her tan. The dress was not quite demure enough for mourning, but it bespoke a certain dignity. Stone took a seat in the front row, across the aisle from her, just as Sir Winston Sutherland made his entrance, carrying a large satchel briefcase and dressed in a double-breasted blue suit with chalk stripes. He looked very official.
    "These proceedings will come to order," said the coroner. "We meet to hear testimony on the death of Paul Phillips Manning; we are pleased to have Sir Winston with us to conduct questioning." Stone glanced at the woman, who sat, looking tired but somehow radiant, staring serenely at the coroner. She glanced briefly at Sir Winston. Stone wondered if she knew who he was and what was about to happen. The coroner spoke again. "Call Mrs. Allison Manning." The woman rose and walked toward a folding chair set next to the coroner's card table, between him and the jury. The scene resembled a rehearsal of a high school play set in a courtroom. "Hold the book," the coroner said to her, extending a Bible. "Do you swear by Almighty God that the evidence you are about to give will be the truth?" "I do," Allison Manning replied. "State your full name and age for the record." "Allison Ames Manning; I am twenty-nine years old." Stone now noticed a stenographer seated near the jury, taking down the proceedings in shorthand. Allison Manning gazed evenly at Sir Winston as he rose from his seat to his full height, which was a good six-three, and approached her. "Mrs. Manning," Sir Winston said gently, "may I begin by expressing my condolences on the loss of your husband?" "Thank you," she replied. "Mrs. Manning, how long were you married to Paul Phillips Manning?" "It would have been four years next month."
    "And how old was your husband at his death?" "Forty-two."
    "And where did the two of you reside?"
    "In Greenwich, Connecticut."
    "Would you be kind enough to tell us of your last months with your husband?"
    Allison Manning took a deep breath and spoke in a clear, well-modulated voice. "My husband and I left Newport, Rhode Island, last May and crossed the Atlantic to Plymouth, in England, just the two of us. Paul had had the yacht built in Finland and fitted out with some extra equipment after it was delivered to Newport. From Plymouth, we cruised up the English Channel to Cowes, on the Isle of Wight, then crossed the Channel and cruised the coast of Brittany, in France. We made a long passage to Bilbao, in northern Spain, then went on to Lisbon and Gibraltar. In the Mediterranean, we cruised the Greek islands and the Balearics and then sailed out to Madeira and the Canary Islands. We called at Las Palmas and did some refitting there, then at Puerto Rico, a port on the southernmost island of the Canaries, and our last port of call before starting across the Atlantic, bound for Antigua." She took a sip of water from a glass poured by the coroner.
    "Please go on," Sir Winston said.
    Allison Manning looked a little sadder. "We sailed southwest from the Canaries down to the latitude of Antigua, then turned west. We had picked up the trade winds by then, and we were making good time. We were ten days out of Puerto Rico, over halfway to Antigua, when the incident occurred."
    "Tell us about the incident, with as much detail as you can recall."
    "It was on the early afternoon of the tenth day," she said. "We had been in and out of squalls, then the wind dropped, and we were very nearly becalmed. The weather had been very changeable. We had been down to short sail in the squalls, using a roller-reefing