Bombshell

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Bombshell Page 12

by Stuart Woods


  They were just finishing up their entrées and contemplating dessert when a cell phone rang.

  “Is that mine?” Stone said.

  “It must be,” Dino said. “My ringtone plays ‘Hail to the Chief.’” Dino Bacchetti was New York City’s police commissioner. Since the two men had once been beat cops together, Dino often joked about the importance of his office.

  Stone Barrington answered his phone. “Hello?”

  “Stone. It’s Billy Barnett.”

  “Hi, Billy. How are you?”

  “Is that Billy Barnett?” Dino said. “Say hi for me.”

  “Thanks, but this isn’t a social call,” Teddy said. “I’m in jail.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “I wish I were. I’m in the L.A. county lockup awaiting arraignment.”

  “On what charge?”

  “Murder.”

  “Did you do it?”

  “Not this time.”

  “How’d you get arrested?”

  “The police found me at the crime scene examining the corpse.”

  “That’s usually what they call ‘caught red-handed.’”

  “Well, it wasn’t what I’d planned to be doing.”

  “No, I would imagine not.”

  “Anyway, I’m in a bit of a sticky situation. I was hoping you could recommend a lawyer who could handle it for me.”

  “You’re talking to him.”

  “Thanks, but that won’t work.”

  “Why not?”

  “Peter started filming his latest picture. I don’t have a scene tomorrow, but I have to be on the set first thing the following day.”

  “You should have thought of that before you found a dead guy.”

  “Thanks, Stone. That’s just the type of legal advice I was hoping for.”

  “Relax. I have no pressing business in New York at the moment. I’ll fly out to L.A. and have you out in time for dinner tomorrow.”

  “I don’t think the police will be inclined to let me go.”

  “I won’t deal with the police. I’ll deal with the prosecutor. What have they got on you, anyway?”

  “I’m not sure they’ve figured it out yet. So far they just caught me at the scene.”

  “Did you have a motive to kill the guy?”

  “Never met him.”

  “Then what were you doing there?”

  “The guy was a gossip columnist. He was spreading rumors about Tessa Tweed, and I wanted to find his source.”

  “What kind of rumors?”

  “That she’s a drunk who can’t say her lines right, so her voice had to be dubbed.”

  “This guy was saying that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you didn’t kill him?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Stone hung up the phone to find Dino looking at him.

  “What’s up?” Dino said.

  “Billy’s accused of killing a gossip columnist for saying nasty things about your daughter-in-law. Care to come to L.A.?”

  Dino’s eyes blazed. “Try and stop me.”

  53

  ADA Harold Felson wasn’t pleased. “It’s Hollywood, Stone. We try to accommodate the movie people.”

  “And I appreciate it.”

  “But that’s no reason to take advantage.”

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I’m expediting the booking because your client has to be back on the set.”

  “He does.”

  “He’s a producer, Stone. Not an actor or director. They can roll film without him. He doesn’t have to be there. Hell, some producers never show up on the set.”

  “This one does.” Stone lowered his voice. “Cut me some slack here. It’s my son’s picture. Billy is his main producer and they work well together. Their last picture just received an Oscar nomination.”

  “Which one is that?”

  “Desperation at Dawn.”

  “Good picture. Congratulations. But that doesn’t mean I won’t catch heat. Hollywood producer given the kid-glove treatment.”

  “I’m not asking for the kid-glove treatment, I’m asking for due process. Charge him or release him and get on with something else.”

  “‘Release him’? Stone, we’re talking about a murder.”

  “You know and I know a Hollywood producer doesn’t burst into a gossip columnist’s office, stab him to death, and stand there waiting for the police to arrive. And other than Mr. Barnett’s presence in Mr. Rosen’s office for a scheduled appointment, you’ve got nothing on him. You’re going to have to drop the charge, and that never makes you look good.”

  “Failing to charge a prime suspect for a murder won’t make me look good!”

  Stone sighed. “I can bring the full fury of Woodman and Weld down upon you. They’ll send a team of attorneys out here to go through every bit of this case with a fine-tooth comb, and I know your case is weak to begin with. You think arresting this producer is a public relations nightmare? Just wait until you’re humiliated in the courtroom on a high-profile case.”

  Harold Felson was speechless for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Finally he sputtered, “Stone, you’ve got to give me something here.”

  “He was caught in the guy’s apartment, right? Charge him with breaking and entering.”

  54

  Judge Hobbs squinted at the docket. “Call the next case.”

  “Billy Barnett. Breaking and entering.”

  Teddy stepped forward. Stone was at his side.

  “Stone Barrington for the defense, Your Honor.”

  “ADA Felson for the prosecution.”

  Judge Hobbs frowned. “This is a simple arraignment.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “I note that the charge was originally murder. Why was it reduced to breaking and entering?”

  “Lack of evidence, Your Honor. In the course of the investigation the charge may be amended.”

  “Or dropped,” Stone Barrington added.

  Judge Hobbs frowned. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but by the normal course of events this seems strange. This is a simple arraignment. In light of the reduced charges, I don’t assume the prosecution will be resisting bail?”

  “No, Your Honor.”

  “And the defense?”

  “We’re amenable to dropping the charges or releasing him on his own recognizance. But, barring that, I brought my wallet.”

  “The defendant poses no flight risk?”

  “He’s producing a motion picture, Your Honor, and has another nominated for an Academy Award. He’s also willing to surrender his passport.”

  Judge Hobbs considered. “I am willing to release the defendant on nominal bail as long as he does not leave the jurisdiction of the court. Defendant is charged with breaking and entering. Bail is set at five thousand dollars. Mr. Barnett, do not make me regret this.”

  * * *

  Nicely done,” Teddy said, as Stone posted bail.

  “Just routine. In case he didn’t go for it, Dino was ready to throw his weight around with the police department.”

  “Dino has no jurisdiction out here.”

  “Dino thinks the New York City police commissioner has jurisdiction everywhere. I have to hold him back from cutting in front of kids at the ice cream parlor.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Scouting out the media. We’d like to get you out of here without running into the paparazzi.”

  Teddy signed for his possessions. He slipped on his watch and stuffed his keys and wallet into his pockets as Dino came walking up.

  “What’s the score?” Stone said.

  “A couple of reporters on the front steps. We might be able to walk by them, bu
t there’s no reason to try. A young detective showed me a back door we can use.”

  “Do we want to get caught sneaking out a back door?”

  “According to him, no one’s going to see us.”

  Stone, Dino, and Teddy took a detour in the lobby, walked by the offices of tax assessors, county clerks, and municipal employees to a secondary lobby and reception area with wide stairs leading down to three double doors to the street.

  They walked down the steps and pushed the doors open.

  A dozen camera crews mobbed the steps, along with a horde of reporters shoving microphones and asking questions.

  As they fought their way through the mob, Dino muttered, “One young detective is so dead.”

  55

  Sylvester could hardly contain himself. “Guess who got arrested?”

  “Who?”

  “Billy Barnett.”

  “What for?”

  “Murder.”

  “You framed him for another murder?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Someone else framed him for murder?”

  “He might have actually done this one.”

  “What?”

  “Turns out he had a motive. Some gossip columnist was spreading nasty rumors about his lead actress.”

  “He killed him for that?”

  “It does seem a bit of an overreaction.”

  Gino looked at him sharply. “You find this funny?”

  “The man’s causing us no end of trouble. It’s hard not to enjoy his misfortune.”

  “Where are you getting your information?”

  “It’s on the news. He was arraigned this morning. The TV stations covered his release.”

  “How come we didn’t get a heads-up?”

  “My man on the force was off duty. When I called him it was the first he’d heard of it.”

  “Where’s Barnett now?”

  “Supposedly back on the set. I called Dylan, but he hasn’t seen him.”

  Gino slammed his fist down on the desk. “What is it with this guy? He’s the original Teflon man. The cops can’t get him, we can’t get him. He’s never where he’s supposed to be. You can’t pin him down. He gets arrested for murder, and he’s out and gone before we even hear. How’d he get out so quick on a murder charge?”

  “They charged him with B and E. They can always up the charges, but the defense won’t get them kicked for lack of proof. For the prosecutor it’s a win-win.”

  “For Billy Barnett, too. He waltzes in and out of jail like he owned the place, and completely disappears.”

  “It would appear so.”

  “Get ahold of Dylan. If Barnett’s not there, he can damn well find out where he is.”

  * * *

  Dylan wasn’t any help. “He’s not here, but that doesn’t mean anything. The place is crawling with TV crews. He might be holed up in one of the trailers and ducking the press.”

  “Nose around, find out where he’s hiding.”

  “There’s a limit to how interested I can be without people getting wise.”

  “Well, then, you’d better be careful, hadn’t you?”

  56

  Teddy scrunched down in the front seat of the Subaru Outback and held a gun to Tessa’s head.

  “See that?” he said. “Keep watching.”

  The camera mounted in the back of the station wagon shot their POV through the windshield. Across the street, the front door of the bank opened and a man in a suit and tie came down the steps.

  “That’s your buddy, isn’t it?” Teddy said. “Trey Verdon. Head teller, vying for assistant manager. I wonder how long it would take him to get it.”

  Viveca came out of the bank and followed Trey Verdon down the street.

  “The guy seems like a bit of a twit. Did you like him much?”

  “Goddamn it,” Tessa said.

  Teddy jabbed her with the gun. “And that is what you cannot do. Want him to live? It’s up to you.” He whipped out a cell phone. “I have only to make the call. Thumbs up or thumbs down? Do I have your total cooperation?”

  Tessa looked at Teddy, her expression one of trepidation tinged with determination. The tension was palpable.

  “And cut!” Peter Barrington yelled. “Camera one, good for picture?” The operator gave him the okay sign. “Camera two? Camera three? All right, we’re going again. Viveca, come in one step sooner or the distance between the two of you is problematic. Do you need a new start cue?”

  Viveca smiled. “No, I got it.”

  “Okay, good. Check makeup and continuity, let’s go in five.”

  Teddy climbed out of the car.

  The gofer Dylan spotted him and came over. “Mark. Hey, is Billy Barnett around?”

  “Supposed to be, but I haven’t seen him. You need something?”

  “No, just concerned. All this publicity, I want him to know we’re behind him.”

  Teddy smiled. “It’s the movies, kid. If people aren’t talking about you, you’re doing something wrong.”

  “Yeah, but murder?”

  “Trust me, no one thinks he did it.”

  Teddy headed for the coffee cart. He hadn’t had any sleep and was starting to fade. Luckily the shot Peter had chosen just called for him to be sitting in a car. A more athletic scene might have been iffy.

  Teddy dumped milk in his coffee and took a big sip. Down the street he could see the production assistant Dylan. Was the kid’s interest in Billy Barnett normal curiosity, or was it something else?

  Teddy no sooner had that thought than the actor playing the head teller Trey Verdon slid in next to him at the coffee urn.

  “Hey, Mark. You know what’s up with Billy Barnett? I heard he was released, but now he’s not around?”

  Teddy nodded. That was it. Billy Barnett was the main topic of conversation.

  * * *

  Dylan wandered in the direction of Peter’s trailer, hoping to catch the young director on his way back to the set and slip in a casual question about Billy Barnett.

  Before he got there, the trailer door opened and Sandy came out.

  That took Dylan aback. He hadn’t seen Sandy since the night he’d left him at the hospital. The young production assistant was on crutches with his leg in a full-length cast. He hobbled down the steps, and started for the set.

  Sandy’s face lit up when he saw Dylan. “Hey, man, how are you? I wanted to say hi, but you were working when I got here. How’s it going?”

  “Fine, fine,” Dylan said. “How’s it going with you?”

  “For a guy with a broken leg, not bad. I got three more weeks in this cast, then they take it off and put on another that’s slimmer, trimmer, sportier. The way they tell it, the girls will be all over me.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Peter invited me. How do you like that? He knows I can’t work, but he thought I’d get a kick out of seeing the filming.”

  “You were just talking to him?”

  “He was just talking to me. He wanted to apologize for not having any time for me, what with Billy getting arrested and all.”

  Dylan felt a pang of guilt about pumping Sandy for information, but he had no choice. “Is Billy in there with him?”

  “No, but his father is. Peter’s father, Stone Barrington. He’s an attorney, just came out from New York to handle the situation. He’s the one who got Billy out of jail.”

  None of this was what Dylan wanted. “But Billy’s not there?”

  “Just Peter and his father. His dad was on the phone making dinner reservations at Musso and Frank. Pretty fancy, huh? Reservation for seven.”

  “Seven o’clock? That’s pretty early when we’re shooting on location.”

  “No, seven people. Stone flew out here with his buddy, who just hap
pens to be, get this, the police commissioner of New York City!”

  Dylan looked impressed. “Tell me more.”

  * * *

  Dylan slipped away from Sandy and whipped out his cell phone.

  “Billy Barnett is nowhere to be found, but the lawyer who bailed him out is. He happens to be Peter Barrington’s father and is associated with the firm Woodman and Weld in New York. He flew out here on his private jet and brought with him as reinforcement no less than the New York City police commissioner, Dino Bacchetti. He is the father of Ben Bacchetti, the head of the studio. Everyone Barnett knows is a powerhouse. That accounts for how he got out of jail. But I still don’t know how he managed to show up on the set and disappear.”

  “Then what good is any of that?” Sylvester snapped.

  “Stone Barrington made a reservation for seven at Musso and Frank. I figure that’s Stone Barrington, Dino Bacchetti, their sons and daughters-in-law. The seventh would be Billy Barnett. The reservation’s for eight o’clock. Does that help you any?”

  “We’ll see.”

  57

  Teddy got a few hours of sleep before a gofer banged on the door to summon him to Peter’s trailer. Teddy pulled himself together and went over.

  Stone Barrington was waiting for him.

  “Sorry to drag you over here,” Stone said, “but Peter figured it would be less conspicuous to summon you to his trailer than for me to call on Mark Weldon in his.”

  “He’s right about that,” Teddy said. He flopped into a chair. “This life of crime is exhausting. Anyway, what’s going on?”

  “Dino and I are taking everyone out to dinner. The kids and you. Think you can stay awake for it?”

  “I’m sure I can. I’m not sure it’s advisable to go.”

  Stone frowned. “Why not?”

  “It seems to be open season on Billy Barnett. Everywhere he goes, people want to kill him or frame him for murder. I’m not sure spending time in his company would be conducive to your health and well-being.”

  “You’re not coming?”

 

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