by Stuart Woods
"No."
Stone spoke up. "The buder told me that Mr. Calder kept a nine millimeter pistol in the same safe where he kept his jewelry."
"Thank you," Durkee replied. "Mrs. Calder, how would you characterize your marriage?"
"As a very happy one," Arrington replied.
"Did you and your husband ever quarrel?"
"Of course." She smiled a litde. "But our quarrels were almost always good-humored. You might call them mock quarrels. We argued about lots of things, but always with respect and affection."
"You say your quarrels were 'almost' always good-humored. Did they ever become violent?"
"You mean, did Vance ever hit me? Certainly not."
"Did you ever hit him?"
She looked down. "I can remember slapping him, once and only once. He'd said something that offended me."
"What did he do when you slapped him?"
"He apologized, and it never happened again. My husband was a gendeman in every possible sense of the word."
"When you argued, what did you argue about?"
"He would give me a hard time, sometimes, about how much shopping I did. Vance had a tailor, a shirtmaker, and a bootmaker; he ordered his clothes from swatches, so shopping was very simple for him. I think it both amused and horrified him how to learn how women shop. He could never understand why I would buy things, then take them back the next day."
"Any other subjects you argued about?"
"Sometimes wed disagree on child rearing. Vance believed strongly in corporal punishment, and I didn't. Hed been brought up that way by his parents, and in English schools, and he thought if it was good enough for him, it was good enough for his son."
"Did he use corporal punishment often with your child?"
"Rarely, and then only a palm applied to the bottom."
"And you disagreed with that?"
"Yes. I was never struck, as a child, and I didn't want Peter to be."
"What else did you disagree about?"
She shrugged. "I can't think of anything else specifically."
"What about women?"
"There were one or two of my friends he didn't like much, but he tolerated them for my sake."
"That's not what I mean," Durkee said. "Are you aware that your husband had a reputation for sleeping with his leading ladies?"
Arrington smiled. "That was before we were married. My husband walked the straight and narrow."
"And if you had learned that he didn't, might that have provoked a quarrel?"
"It might have provoked a divorce," Arrington replied. "When we married, I let him know in no uncertain terms what I expected of him in that regard."
"And what did you expect?"
"Fidelity."
"Were you always faithful to him?"
"Always," she replied.
"Was there any man in your past for whom you still felt… affection?"
Stone was a little uncomfortable with this, but he kept a straight face and waited for her answer.
"I feel affection for a number of friends," Arrington replied, "but I was as faithful to my husband as he was to me."
Stone didn't like this answer, and he saw the two detectives exchange a glance.
Arrington saw it, too. "What I mean is, I was faithful to him, and he was faithful to me."
"Mrs. Calder, are you acquainted with a woman named Charlene Joiner?"
"Of course; she costarred with my husband in a film."
"Were you and Ms. Joiner friends?"
"No; we met a few times, and our relationship was cordial, but I wouldn't call us friends. The last time I saw her was when she and Vance cohosted a political fund-raiser at our house."
"Would it surprise you to learn that your husband, while he was filming with Ms. Joiner, was spending considerable periods of time in her trailer?"
"No; I suppose they had lines to read together."
Bryant spoke up. "Mrs. Calder, when did you become aware that your husband was having sex with Ms. Joiner?"
"I was not and am not aware of that," she replied icily.
"Come on, Mrs. Calder," Bryant said impatiendy, "while they were filming together, your husband stopped having sex with you, didn't he?"
They were good cop/bad copping her, and Stone hoped Arrington had the sense to realize it. He made no move to stop them.
"My husband and I had a very satisfactory sex life, and I can't remember any period of our marriage when that wasn't the case," Arrington replied firmly.
"Do you not recall ever telling another woman that your husband had stopped making love to you?"
Arrington frowned. "Ah," she said, "I think I know what you're getting at. A friend of mine once complained to me that her husband had stopped sleeping with her, and I believe I tried to commiserate by telling her that all couples went through periods like that. I think you must have spoken with Beverly Walters."
"Do you deny telling Mrs. Walters that your husband had stopped rucking you?" Bryant demanded.
Stone began to speak, but Arrington held up a hand and stopped him. "I think Mrs. Walters may have inferred a bit more than I meant to imply," she said, and her color was rising.
"Mrs. Calder," Durkee said, breaking in, "if you had learned that your husband was having sex once, sometimes twice a day with Ms. Joiner in her trailer, would that have made you angry?"
"Hypothetically? Yes, I suppose it would have hurt me badly."
"When you are hurt by a man, do you respond angrily?"
"I have a temper, Detective Durkee, but on the occasions when it comes out, I have never harmed another human being."
"When was the last time you fired a handgun?" Bryant asked suddenly.
"I have never fired a pistol," she replied.
"But you know how, don't you?"
"I have never, to the best of my recollection, even held a handgun."
"Mrs. Calder," Durkee asked, "where is your husbands jewelry box?"
"I'd like very much to know, detective; I had hoped that, by now, you might be able to tell me."
"Where did you hide the jewelry box and the pistol?"
"I didn't hide either of them anywhere," she replied.
"But you say you don't remember anything about the shooting. How could you remember not hiding them?"
"To the very best of my recollection, I have not handled either my husband's jewelry box or his gun."
"Mrs. Calder, do you recall hearing or reading somewhere that perfume applied to the hands and arms removes any trace of having fired a weapon?"
"No, I don't."
"What kind of perfume do you use?"
"I use several, but my favorite is Chanel No. 5."
"Did you use that the night your husband was shot?"
"I don't remember the night my husband was shot."
"Would you use perfume before taking a bath?"
Arrington looked at him as if he were mad. "No."
"Then why would you reek of perfume on getting out of a bath?"
"I use bath oil, detective, of the same scent as my perfume, but generally speaking, I never reek."
Stone supressed a smile. He sensed that the two detectives were running out of questions, but he didn't rush them.
"Mrs. Calder," Durkee said, "I have to tell you that, after investigating your husband's murder very thoroughly, we have concluded that the two of you were alone in the house when he was shot."
"That hardly seems possible," Arrington replied. "Otherwise, where are the jewelry box and the gun?"
"We believe you hid them after shooting your husband."
"Where? Have you searched our house?"
"We haven't found them-yet," Bryant said.
"Let me know when you do," Arrington said. "Otherwise, I'll have to file an insurance claim."
Durkee stood up. "I believe that's all for now," he said, turning to Stone. "I want to be notified when she leaves the hospital, and I want to know where she goes."
"I'll give you a call," Stone sai
d, walking both men toward the door.
When they were outside, Bryant turned to Stone. "She killed him," he said.
"Nonsense," Stone said. "It's obvious that someone got into the house. Haven't you found any evidence of anyone else?"
The two detectives exchanged a glance.
"I want disclosure," Stone said.
"Are you licensed to practice law in the state of California?" Bryant asked.
"No."
"My advice is to get her a lawyer who is. I'm sure the D.A. will disclose to him."
Stone watched as the two detectives walked to their car. He didn't like the way this was going.
Chapter 14
Stone arrived back at Vance's studio bungalow to find a message from Lou Regenstein, whom he'd been meaning to call anyway. He got the studio head on the phone.
"How is Arrington?" Lou asked.
"Much better. Her doctor says she can go home tomorrow."
"Have you given any thought to funeral arrangements?"
"I was going to ask you the same thing. I'm sure the studio can do a much better job of this than I can."
"I have a suggestion," Lou said.
"Go ahead."
"We have a cathedral set on our biggest sound stage right now. I'd like to hold a memorial service for Vance there and, in addition to his friends, invite many of the studio employees who have worked with Vance over the years."
"That sounds good to me," Stone said.
"I'd like to invite a small media pool and allow them to tape the service. I think that will go a long way toward keeping them off Arrington's back right now."
"Why don't you give Arrington a call at the Judson Clinic and discuss it with her? I think she's up to it now; she saw the police this afternoon."
"Is Arrington facing any legal difficulties?" Lou asked.
"It's too soon to tell, Lou; the police, not having a suspect, quite naturally look at the spouse. I think we'll just have to wait for them to get past that."
"Have you called Marc Blumberg, my lawyer friend, yet?"
"Not yet; I hope we won't need him. Also, there's a downside to calling him; if somebody in his firm leaked the call to the press, it would make it look as though we expected Arrington to be charged."
"I understand," Lou said. "I'll call Arrington now."
Stone hung up and glanced at his watch. It would be midnight in Sicily, now, and he hadn't called Dolce yet. He knew she liked to stay up late, so he dialed the number.
It rang once, before being picked up by a machine. "I'm entertaining a guest right now," Dolces voice said, "so go away."
Stone hung up, angry, and tried to think of something else. He thought of Marc Blumberg and dialed his number.
"Mr. Blumberg's office," a woman said.
"My name is Stone Barrington; I'm calling Mr. Blumberg at the suggestion of Lou Regenstein."
"And how can Mr. Blumberg help you, Mr. Barrington?"
He obviously wasn't going to get past this woman without telling her the purpose of his call, and he had no intention of doing that. "Please ask Mr. Blumberg to call me at Centurion Studios." He gave her the number and hung up.
Betty Southard came into the office. "I was passing and heard you mention a Blumberg. Marc Blumberg?"
Stone nodded.
"Is Arrington in that much trouble?"
"It's just a precaution," Stone replied. "I think it's best to be ready for anything."
"I suppose so," she said. "How about some dinner tonight?"
"I'd like that," Stone said. He hadn't been looking forward to being sequestered at the Calder house, and Dolce's behavior had removed any guilt he might have felt about seeing another woman. "Book us at your favorite restaurant."
"Pick me up at seven-thirty?"
"Sure."
"You remember the address?"
"How could I forget?"
The phone rang, and Betty picked up the one on the desk "Mr. Calder's bungalow?" She handed the phone to Stone. "Marc Blumberg."
"Thank you for returning my call, Mr. Blumberg," Stone said. "Lou Regenstein has suggested we meet to discuss something very important."
"Of course," Blumberg said. "Tomorrow morning okay?"
Stone could hear diary pages turning. "Id rather not come to your office, for reasons I'll explain later. "Would it be possible for you to meet me at Centurion Studios after office hours?"
"I'll be finished here by five-thirty," Blumberg replied. "I could be there by six, but I'll only have about forty-five minutes; I have to get home and change for dinner."
"Six will be fine," Stone said. "I'll leave instructions for you at the gate." He hung up. "Betty," he said, "will you have a pass and directions to the bungalow at the main gate? Blumberg is coming here at six."
"Consider it done," she replied.
"Do you mind if I don't change for dinner?" he asked. "I won't have time to go back to Vance's."
"No problem. When is Arrington getting out of the hospital?"
"Tomorrow, I hope."
"Do you think you should be living at the house then?"
"You have a dirty mind."
"You bet I do; I have two suggestions."
"What?"
"The first is, move in with me. I managed to make you comfortable the last time you were here."
"I think it's best that I just move back to the Bel-Air," Stone said. "What's your second suggestion?"
"Vance has… had a place at Malibu; I think that might be enough distance between you and Arrington, and I've got the keys."
"That's a thought," Stone said. "I'll let you know."
* * *
Marc Blumberg bustled into the bungalow promptly at six, a small, fit-looking, deeply tanned man of fifty in a perfecdy cut suit and gleaming shoes.
Stone shook his hand. "Can I get you a drink?"
"I'm okay," Blumberg said, taking a seat on a leather sofa. "I believe I've heard of you, Stone. May I call you Stone?"
Stone sat down beside him. "Of course."
"And I'm Marc. I remember that business in St. Mark's a few years back, when you defended the woman on a murder charge. Saw it on 60 Minutes, I think."
"Yes, that was a difficult one."
"Pity she was hanged."
"Yes."
"I remember from Lou that you're a friend of Mrs… the Calders. I take it I'm here to talk about another murder trial."
"Let's call this a precautionary meeting."
"It's always wise to take precautions. Has Arrington talked to the police yet?"
"Earlier this afternoon."
"I should have been there for that," Blumberg said.
"I didn't want to appear to be running scared," Stone said. "You'd have been happy with the way it went." He gave Blumberg a detailed rundown of Arrington's questioning.
"That sounds okay," Blumberg said. "You handled it well."
"Thank you."
"Sounds as though they don't have another suspect."
"That's how I read it. They went through the drill the night of the murder, and they didn't come up with anything, and that disturbs them. Cops like early indications, and when they don't find them, they look at the household."
"Anybody in the house besides Arrington?"
"No. The butler and maid were in their quarters; the buder found Vance and called the police."
"What was the scene like?"
"Vance was dressed in tuxedo trousers and a pleated shirt, no tie. They were going to a black-tie dinner at Lou's house a little later. He was found lying face down in the central hallway of the house, one bullet here." Stone pointed at the spot.
"You used to be a cop didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Have you got a scenario for this that doesn't involve Arrington shooting Vance?"
"Here's how I read it," Stone said. "Arrington was in the bathtub; Vance was getting dressed. His safe was open, containing his jewelry box, a nine-millimeter automatic, and a box of cartridges. He either walked in on a
burglary, or a burglar walked in on him, probably the former. The burglar took the jewelry box and the gun, walked Vance into the central hallway and shot him."
"Any struggle?"
"Looks like an execution to me. My guess is, Vance saw it coming and turned away. That's why the wound in the back of the head." Stone stood up, held out his hands in the "no, no" position, then half turned away from his imaginary assailant.
"Makes sense," Blumberg said.
"For Arrington to have done it, she would have to have gone to the safe, taken out the gun, cocked it, flipped off the safety, then either marched her husband out into the hall, or gone looking for him and found him there. That doesn't fit a domestic quarrel."
"It fits a cold-blooded, premeditated murder," Blumberg said. "How do you figure the chances of that?"
"Unlikely in the extreme."
"I'm glad to hear it. So what we've got is an innocent woman who loved her husband, who is a suspect only because the police haven't done their job and found the real killer."
"In a nutshell," Stone said. "A couple of other things you should know: I got the impression from the detectives that they might have other evidence we don't know about. They refused to disclose it to me, said they'd talk to a California lawyer."
"We'll get it, don't worry. What's the other thing?"
"The police talked to a woman named Beverly Walters, who told them Vance was screwing an actress named Charlene Joiner; they took that as Arrington's motive for the shooting."
"I know her; she's a complete bitch, and she could give us trouble at a trial. Charlene Joiner, huh? If it's true, Vance was a lucky guy."
"Yeah, I've seen some of her pictures."
"Tell me, Stone, what's your role in all this?" Blumberg asked. "Family friend?"
"That, and for the moment, Arrington's personal representative. I have her confidence and a power of attorney."
Blumberg looked Stone in the eye. "You and Arrington ever have a thing, Stone?"
"We were living together in New York when she suddenly married Vance."
"You want me to represent her?"
"If it becomes necessary."
"I think you're right about my presence being a red flag; the media would play that big. Here's what we do. I don't so much as even speak to Arrington, unless we find out she's going to be arrested."
"I might be able to get advance notice of that, if it happens."