by Stuart Woods
“How very convenient,” Stone said. “You think Terry ratted out his brother?”
“It’s a possibility; we’ll look into that, too, if you like. What sort of time frame are we talking about?”
“Very short,” Stone said, “no more than a few days. This deal has been brewing for several weeks, but I only recently became involved, after that phone call I took at Elaine’s.”
“We’re on it,” Mike said. “Anything else?”
“Yes. There are a couple of people who work for Prince I’d like profiles on, too: one is his driver, name unknown, white male, thirtyish, shaved head, bulky build; the other is his executive assistant, Carolyn Blaine, thirty-fiveish, five ten, a hundred and thirty pounds, born New York City, educated at Miss Porter’s School, Mount Holyoke, and Wharton for an MBA, divorced last year.”
“What are you looking for?”
“With the driver, a criminal record and any violent activity in his past; with the assistant, just whatever you can find.”
“I’ll get back to you, Stone, on the cell?”
“Yes, I’m still in L.A. and will be for at least a week.”
Mike hung up, and so did Stone.
Dino came out of the guesthouse. “Anything you need me for?”
“No, I’ve set some things in motion, so I’m pretty much just waiting to hear from people.”
“Mind if I take the car, then? I’d like to do some sightseeing.”
Stone tossed him the keys. “Keep it as long as you like; if I have to go out, I’ll take Vance Calder’s Bentley.”
“Have a nice day,” Dino said, then walked toward the front of the house.
Stone relaxed in the sun and was soon asleep. Then he was being lightly shaken by Manolo. Stone opened his eyes. “What is it, Manolo ?”
“Mr. Stone, your secretary has been trying to reach you on your cell phone but got no answer. She’s on the house line.”
“Thank you, Manolo,” Stone said, and reached for the phone on the table next to his chaise. “Hello?”
“It’s Joan. You were asleep by the pool, weren’t you?”
“I’ve had a busy morning,” Stone said. “Lots happening.”
“Lots happening here, too. Somebody broke into the offices last night.”
Stone sat up. “A burglar?”
“I don’t think so; it was too subtle. I called Bob Cantor; he’s here now and wants to speak to you.” Bob Cantor was a retired cop who often did technical work for Stone.
“Put him on,” Stone said. He heard a click. “Bob?”
“Yeah, Stone; somebody gave your place a good going over last night.”
“Anything missing?”
“A lot of information, I suspect. It was a real pro job. They even got into Joan’s safe and yours, too.”
“You know, Bob, I’m going to have to hire somebody to get in there and install a top-notch security system,” he said, archly. Bob had installed his current system.
“You’ve already got a top-notch system, Stone, or we wouldn’t know how far these people got. As it was, if you’d been here, you’d have gotten half a dozen alarms on your phone system, but since neither you nor Joan was in the house, and since you wouldn’t let me install a police alert, it didn’t matter what they set off.”
“All right, all right, Bob. You’re right, it’s my fault.”
“As long as I’m here I want to update some things about the system, and I want you to spring for the high-def cameras, too. That way, if they come back, I’ll have a few surprises for them.”
“Good idea, go ahead.”
Joan came back on the phone. “Any idea who’s behind this?” she asked.
“Yes, I have an idea; it’s this guy Prince. It’s funny, but I’ve just put Strategic Services onto him, though I didn’t tell them to break into his offices.”
“That was sweet of you.”
“If there’s nothing missing, then there’s no harm done,” Stone said. “Just relax and let Bob do his work; he’s going to beef up the system and install some cameras, so don’t start running around the office naked, unless you want me to have you on tape.”
“I’ll try and restrain myself,” she said. “Bye-bye.”
Stone hung up, and his cell phone vibrated on the table. “Hello?”
“Stone, it’s Rick Barron. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner; Glenna and I have been at our place in Santa Barbara for a couple of days.”
“Good morning, Rick. I have some news on the death of Jennifer Harris.”
“Good.”
“I’m sorry to tell you she was murdered, Rick.”
“My God! How?”
“Ice pick into the brain from the back of the neck, above the hairline. It was a professional job; the killer took the trouble to seal the wound with spirit gum, so the ME wouldn’t notice it, but Sergeant Rivera had already alerted him to be thorough.”
“I’m having trouble believing this,” Rick said.
“I think it’s important that you find out what her will says with regard to her Centurion stock,” Stone said. “Can you do that?”
“I know her lawyer,” Rick replied. “He might tell me.”
“Will you let me know what he says?”
“I will, Stone; I’ll call him now.” Rick hung up.
Stone thought about what was happening. He wasn’t sleepy anymore.
14
Dino came back late in the afternoon. “How was your day?”
“Both busy and idle,” Stone replied. “I got a call from Joan and Cantor; somebody broke into my offices last night.”
“Connected with what’s going on out here?” Dino asked.
“What else?”
“What did they get?”
“A look at whatever they wanted, I guess.”
The house phone rang, and Stone answered it. “Hello?”
“Hello, Stone,” Charlene Joiner purred. “Would you and Dino like to come to dinner at my house in Malibu this evening? I’m cooking, and I’ve got a cute date for Dino.”
“Hang on.” He covered the phone. “I don’t suppose you’d like to have dinner with a movie star in Malibu tonight, would you? She’s got you a date.”
“Who do I have to kill?” Dino asked.
Stone uncovered the phone. “I talked him into it; what time?”
“Seven?”
“Seven it is.”
“You remember the way?”
“I do.”
“I’ll let the guard at the gate know. Bye-bye.”
Stone hung up. “If I know Charlene, she’s planning to get you laid.”
“I can live with that.”
They drove out to Malibu in the early evening, missing rush hour, so the Pacific Coast Highway was fast. Stone pulled into a gated area and gave his name to a guard, then was waved through.
“What is this place?” Dino asked.
“This is the Malibu Colony,” Stone replied. “The most expensive real estate anywhere on the Pacific Coast, I should think.” He drove to Charlene’s house and parked out front.
She answered the bell on the intercom. “Come straight through the house and out to the pool,” she said, buzzing the door open.
They walked down the center hallway and emerged onto a large rear patio with a pool, overlooking the Pacific. Charlene and another woman were arrayed on chaises, facing the setting sun. They both got up.
“Hey, Stone,” Charlene said, giving him a wet kiss. “Hey, Dino. This is my friend Hetty Lang; she’s a contract player at Centurion.”
Everyone shook hands. Dino appeared to be trying not to salivate.
“Anybody feel like a plunge in the Pacific before the sun goes down?” Charlene asked.
“Sure,” Stone said.
“Swimsuits are in the dressing room, over there,” she said, pointing.
Stone and Dino found suits the right size.
“I hadn’t expected to get wet,” Dino said, hanging up his clothes.
; They walked back to the pool, and followed as the girls ran off the patio and raced for the ocean. Stone hit the water running and was stunned at how cold it was. Everybody swam out a few yards, then bodysurfed the waves back to the beach.
“Cold, fellas?” Charlene asked.
Dino’s teeth were chattering. “A little,” he said.
“Well, we don’t want shrinkage, do we? You guys hit the showers and fix yourselves a drink. We’ll be down in half an hour.”
Stone and Dino went back to the dressing room.
“I’ve never been so cold in my life,” Dino said, turning on the hot water.
“It’s a cold ocean,” Stone said.
“Thanks for the warning.”
They showered and dressed, then went into the house.
“There’s a bar in here, as I recall,” Stone said, turning into the study. He poured Dino a Johnnie Walker Black and himself a Knob Creek, and they sat down in a pair of large chairs.
“Refresh my memory,” Dino said. “Wasn’t Charlene involved with a president?”
“It was Will Lee,” Stone said, “but before he was president and before he was married. They’re both from Georgia, and he was representing her fiancé, who was charged with murder. They had a brief fling; then, when the fiancé was convicted, he tried to get it overturned on the grounds that his attorney was sleeping with his girl. It didn’t work.”
“I’ve read about that,” Dino said. “Didn’t he get his death sentence commuted?”
“Yes, and the rumor was Charlene slept with the governor of Georgia to effect the commutation.”
“I’d have pardoned the bastard, in those circumstances,” Dino said.
They sipped their drinks until they heard the girls coming down the stairs, giggling.
“Hey, fellas,” Charlene said. “Let’s all go into the kitchen.”
“Dino, you and Hetty go ahead,” Stone said. “I need to talk with Charlene for a minute.”
She gave him another kiss. “What’s up, lover?”
“Cool down for a minute, sweetheart,” Stone said. “I have some news, and it’s not good.”
She backed up a step. “What is it?”
“Jennifer Harris—the other stockholder Rick was counting on?”
“The one who died?”
“The one who was murdered,” Stone said.
Charlene’s face fell. “Murdered?”
“And by a professional.” Stone explained what the medical examiner had found. “I think you should be very careful for a while.”
“Why?”
“Because you hold shares committed to Rick, too. I don’t think you’re going to be safe until this whole thing with Centurion and Terrence Prince is resolved.”
“Excuse me a minute,” Charlene said. She went to a telephone and dialed a number. “Hello? This is Charlene Joiner; who’s this? Hello, Jerry, listen carefully: I want a team at my house, right now, and 24/7, until further notice, got that? Good. Yes, I anticipate a threat. Goodbye.” She hung up and took Stone’s hand. “Let’s go cook dinner,” she said.
Stone followed her into the kitchen, where Dino had mixed Hetty a drink from another bar, and Charlene turned on the grill. “How do you like your steaks?” she asked.
Stone marveled at how cool she was, given the circumstances.
15
Stone woke up the following morning, sprawled across Charlene’s bed, naked. The scent of bacon cooking wafted up from the kitchen. He showered and shaved and went downstairs.
Dino and Hetty were seated at the kitchen table, looking rested and fresh, while Charlene was dishing up scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. They all sat down, and Stone found a Los Angeles Times on the table. A story just above the fold caught his eye: DEATH OF MOVIE HEIRESS WAS MURDER.
Stone held up the paper for the others. “Did you see this?”
“We were talking about it when you were still asleep,” Dino said. “I wonder who let the press know?”
“I don’t think it was Prince,” Stone said. “Somebody who knows a reporter, I guess.”
“Maybe Rick Barron?” Dino offered.
“Could be,” Stone replied. “Charlene, I think this takes the heat off you, at least a little. The opposition can’t afford two murders in the papers.”
“I’ll stick with my security people for a while,” Charlene replied. “Better safe than dead.”
Stone’s cell phone hummed on his belt. “Excuse me for a moment,” he said, getting up and walking out of the kitchen.
“Hello?”
“It’s Eggers.”
“Good morning, Bill.”
“It’s afternoon here.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“I spoke to Rex Champion early this morning, offered him thirty-six million. He ranted for a while, then accepted. I’m sending him a deal memo; the price is contingent on our due diligence turning up nothing untoward and on his putting an immediate stop to selling blood stock.”
“That’s great news, Bill.”
“Closing is a week from today.”
“What?”
“I know, I know, but Rex is hard up and needs the cash immediately.”
“How are we going to raise the cash for Arrington that fast?”
“Look, Stone, I know you’re not accustomed to dealing with billionaires, but Woodman & Weld is. When one of our clients needs a loan, he doesn’t fill out an application and wait for word from the loan committee. Call Arrington, tell her to instruct Chase to deal with us, and we’ll have it wrapped up in a day or two. And send me her financial statement, so I’ll know what I’m dealing with.”
“You’re dealing with a billion two in investments with Chase; that’s all you need to know.”
“You’re right, it is. I need a letter from Arrington appointing us as her attorneys and authorizing us to act for her. Can you get that faxed to me right away?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll look forward to hearing from her.” Eggers hung up.
Stone called Arrington. “Good morning,” he said.
“It’s afternoon.”
“Yes, it is. I have good things to report,” he said. “Rex Champion has accepted your offer of thirty-six million dollars for Virginia Champion Farms.”
“That’s wonderful! It’s less than I offered.”
“It’s what you offered,” Stone said. “We thought the extra million was too much.”
She laughed. “Thank you for ignoring my orders.”
“Improving on your orders. Now, we’re closing in a week, and I need some paperwork from you right away. Got a pen and paper?”
“Yes,” she said.
“First write a letter to Woodman & Weld saying as follows: ‘Dear Sirs: I herewith appoint your firm as my sole legal representatives, under the supervision of your partner, Stone Barrington.’ ”
“Partner?”
“We’ve been talking about that for months; your business sealed the deal.”
“Well, congratulations!”
“Thank you, ma’am. Please get that typed up on your letterhead, sign it, and fax it.” He gave her the number. “Then mail Bill Eggers the original. Then, as soon as you’ve done that, send the following letter to the person who supervises your accounts at Chase Private Bank. Ready?”
“Ready.”
“ ‘I have appointed the firm of Woodman & Weld as my sole legal representatives. You may deal with either Mr. Stone Barrington, the supervising partner on my account, or Mr. William Eggers, the firm’s managing partner, on my behalf.’ ”
“Got it.”
“Fax that to both your Chase banker and Bill Eggers and mail Chase the original.”
“Will do.”
“Time is of the essence,” Stone said. “We have to arrange a bridging loan from Chase right away to close the sale of Champion Farms, so that you won’t have to sell stocks at a loss.”
“I understand.”
“As soon as Eggers and Chase receive your faxes, we’
re in business. I’ll have Eggers fax you the deal memo on the sale, which will protect you from undiscovered liabilities.”
“Thank you, Stone, I appreciate your getting this done with such dispatch. What’s happening with the sale of Centurion?”
“There’s been a bad turn of events,” Stone said. He told her about the murder of Jennifer Harris.
“Am I in any danger?”
“No. Just don’t tell Howard Sharp what we’re doing with Champion and don’t talk to him about anything else, either. Write him a letter discharging him and instructing him to overnight all your files to me in New York.”
“I’ll get it done today,” she said. “Bye-bye.”
Stone returned to breakfast.
“Everything okay?” Dino asked.
“Better than okay,” Stone said.
“Did you save Centurion?” Charlene asked.
“Not yet, but that’s next on my to-do list.”
When Stone and Dino left Charlene’s house, there were two men in the front garden and an unmarked van parked out front.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” one of the men said. “May I see some ID?”
They both complied.
“Charlene doesn’t waste any time, does she?” Dino said as they got into the car.
“Never, on any occasion, about anything,” Stone replied.
16
They arrived back at the Bel-Air house. Stone was having a second cup of coffee by the pool when his cell phone rang. “Hello?”
“It’s Mike Freeman, Stone.”
“Hello, Mike.”
“I have some preliminary results on the two background checks you asked us to do, on Prince’s chauffeur and executive assistant.”
“Shoot.”
“The chauffeur’s name is Alexei Popov, thirty-one years of age, born Ukraine, emigrated to this country with his parents at age thirteen. He has a juvenile record, now sealed, with charges of vandalism, auto theft and—always a bad sign—cruelty to animals. We couldn’t get the details. He was also charged with a murder-for-hire three years ago, before he went to work for Terrence Prince, but the case against him was dismissed in mid-trial when the main witness against him vanished.”