Bel_Air Dead

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Bel_Air Dead Page 9

by Stuart Woods


  “What did you think of Mr. Prince?” Stone asked her.

  “Oh, he’s charming,” she said. “I knew he would be. I wouldn’t trust him any farther than I could throw him, though.”

  “What good instincts you have,” Stone said, laughing. “I was in line with Rick and Glenna Barron, and he’s going to talk with some of the other shareholders about our buying their shares. I think we’ve got a shot at this, starting with those owned by Jennifer Harris’s estate.”

  “If you say so,” Arrington said. “As long as I don’t have to sell other securities.”

  “Something I think you should do,” Stone said, “is to take up the option on the four acres adjoining your property here. I think that addition would make your acreage much more valuable.”

  “Vance got those options just before he died,” Arrington said. “There are two parcels of one point eight and two point two acres, both with very nice houses on them. The owners are elderly and would probably like to move into some sort of assisted facilities. The prices are very good, too, given the appreciation of real estate in this neighborhood. I’d have to pay, let’s see, about eighteen million for the two.”

  “When do the options expire?” Stone asked.

  “Quite soon, I think; I’m not certain of the date.”

  “We’ll get Woodman & Weld on that tomorrow,” Stone said. “We don’t want to miss this opportunity.”

  Dino came and sat down at their table. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier,” he said, “but I talked to Sergeant Rivera this afternoon, and he’s going to arrest Prince’s driver tomorrow.”

  “What for?” Arrington asked.

  “For the murder of Jennifer Harris,” Dino replied.

  “We think Prince had her killed to get hold of her shares,” Stone said.

  “Prince plays that rough?” Arrington asked.

  “We believe so.”

  “Should I be worried?”

  “No, harming you wouldn’t help him. Your shares would go into the trust for Peter, and I’ll be his trustee. The Woodman & Weld trust department is already working on the documents.”

  Arrington took a deep breath and let it out. “That’s a relief,” she said.

  “Also, having his driver in jail and maybe talking is going to make Prince more circumspect in his actions,” Stone said. “He won’t be able to pull that again. In fact, if the driver talks, that could solve all our problems. Prince wouldn’t be starting a big new development, if he were looking at a trial and possible conviction.”

  “If that happens, can we go to the trial?” Arrington asked.

  Stone laughed. “I’ll see if I can get tickets.”

  22

  Stone and Dino had breakfast with Arrington beside the pool the following morning. Then Mike Freeman collected Arrington and took her off to Burbank Airport to look at the available G-III.

  Dino’s phone rang. “Bacchetti,” he said, then listened. “Have you got a line on him? Well, shit. Thanks for calling; keep me posted, if you will.” Dino hung up. “Prince’s driver ran; he’s nowhere to be found.”

  “How would he have known he was going to be arrested?” Stone asked.

  “Rivera thinks somebody in his office, maybe even his boss, tipped off Prince.”

  “I heard you ask if he had a line on the driver.”

  “Nothing. He apparently didn’t sleep at his apartment last night, and his car was still there.”

  “This gets weirder and weirder,” Stone said.

  Stone’s cell phone buzzed. “Hello?”

  “Good morning, Stone. It’s Rick Barron.”

  “Good morning, Rick.”

  “I’ve got some news on the share-buying front.”

  “Shoot.”

  “One of the share owners, an elderly producer named Walt Baird, is willing to sell to us, because he needs money now and doesn’t want to wait until Prince does his deal. He’ll sell for twenty-five hundred a share. The bad news is, he only owns five thousand shares.”

  “That’s a start. Tell him we’ll pay him this week.”

  “All right, and there’s better news, too. Baird tells me a producer named Jim Long is willing to sell his shares, because he needs cash for a lawyer; he’s being held in jail without bail in L.A. on an attempted murder charge. He’s a close friend of Ed Eagle’s ex-wife, Barbara, and he’s accused of helping her try to kill Ed. You may recall that he was attacked by a man with a knife outside his home a while back. Long apparently introduced Barbara to the man, who was a dogsbody and sometime pilot for Long.”

  “I heard about that,” Stone said.

  “Are you willing to go and see Long in jail and talk to him about buying his shares? He’s got fifteen thousand so he could put us over the top. His attorney’s name is Harvey Stein.” Rick gave him the number.

  “Sure, I’ll go see him. Arrington is out looking at an airplane at Burbank. When she comes back, I’ll brief her about this.”

  “Good. Let me know how it goes with Long, will you? You can tell him I sent you; we had a cordial relationship when he was on the lot.”

  “I’ll do that.” Stone hung up. “Can you get me into the L.A. City Jail?” he asked Dino.

  “Sure, just throw a brick through a window, and I’ll get Rivera to throw you in there.”

  Stone called Harvey Stein’s number and, after working his way past a couple of secretaries, got him on the line.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Barrington?”

  “I’m an attorney with Woodman & Weld in New York,” Stone said.

  “Yeah, I know the firm; I’ve heard your name, too.”

  “I have a client who is interested in buying James Long’s shares in Centurion Studios.”

  “Who’s the client?”

  “Arrington Calder.”

  “Vance Calder’s widow?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I heard about Terry Prince’s pending deal.”

  “Long’s friend Rick Barron asked me to talk to Mr. Long. Rick thinks Long might prefer to sell to us rather than to Prince.”

  “As his attorney, I don’t give a shit who he sells to. Either way, I get paid what Long owes me.”

  “Will you arrange for me to see him in jail?”

  “Sure, I’ll leave your name there. He’s in Metro Jail, at Parker Center.” Stein gave him the address. “Visiting hours today are two to four.”

  “Thanks very much.”

  “Tell Jim to call me as soon as he can.”

  “I’ll do that.” Stone thanked him and hung up. “Long is at Parker Center,” he said to Dino.

  “That’s where Rivera works; I’ll go with you and see if he’s found Prince’s driver.”

  “Okay.” Stone’s cell buzzed again. “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Arrington.”

  “Hi, there.”

  “I just bought an airplane! Got a great deal, too, Mike says.”

  “Well, don’t fly it away; we’ve got some paperwork to take care of first.”

  “I’m on the way home; Mike wants to talk to you, though.” She put Freeman on the phone.

  “She liked it the minute she saw it,” Mike said. “Great interior; it’s even got a bed—unusual for a G-III.”

  “What do I need to get done?”

  “You need to get a corporation set up to own the airplane, for liability and tax reasons.”

  “I can get that done.”

  “I’ll deal with the logbooks, the preflight inspection, and the insurance agent. I’ll send Arrington home in my car, and it can come back for me.”

  “Okay, call me when you know when we’ll close.”

  “Will do.” Mike hung up.

  Stone called Bill Eggers in New York.

  “Afternoon, Stone, what’s up?”

  “Our client, Arrington, has bought an airplane, a G-III. I need to get the proper corporate setup done right away.”

  “We’ve got a tax lawyer here who can do it. He’s going to need
some information about the airplane.”

  Stone gave him Mike Freeman’s cell number. “Tell him to call Mike; he’s with the broker now. They’ll get him whatever information he needs.”

  “Will do. Anything else?”

  “Arrington is going to buy some more shares of Centurion, hopefully in the next day or two.”

  “Is there enough left of her line of credit?”

  “We’ll have to see about that. She also wants to take up the option she has on two pieces of property adjoining her estate in Bel-Air, so you might speak to Chase about extending her line of credit another one hundred million, just in case.”

  “Will do. I have some paperwork on the property option; it came to us yesterday, along with her other files from her former attorney. I’ll take care of it.”

  “The option expires soon, so time is of the essence.”

  “Got it. Bye.” Eggers hung up.

  “Okay,” Stone said to Dino. “Let’s have some lunch and then run down to Parker Center and see this guy in jail.”

  23

  Stone signed in at Metro Jail and sat down to wait to be called. The waiting room was jammed, mostly lawyers and women, many with children. Half an hour later Stone was shown to a lawyers’ meeting room, apparently a courtesy that Harvey Stein had requested.

  James Long was shown into the room by a guard and had his handcuffs removed. He was a tall, slender man in his fifties with graying hair and the start of a beard. He was wearing the standard orange jumpsuit. They shook hands.

  “Mr. Barrington? Harvey Stein said you were coming to talk to me. I’m glad to see you; it’s good to talk to anybody besides my cellmate.”

  “I understand,” Stone replied. “I hope you’re being treated well.”

  “Not especially,” Long said. “I’m in here, not because I’ve committed a crime, but because they want me to rat out my friend Barbara Eagle. Funny thing is, I don’t have any knowledge of what they say she did. All I did was meet her in Mexico and fly her to Yuma, where she left us. In the process, she, of course, met my pilot, and it’s that introduction that they’re holding me on as an accessory. Somebody murdered him in his home, so he can’t back me up.”

  “I hear Barbara escaped from jail down there,” Stone said.

  “I didn’t know that. She called and asked me to meet her in Acapulco, and I did. We spent a couple of days there, then came back to this country. I don’t even know where she went after Yuma. In any case, she’s managed to get herself a pardon in Mexico, so she’s not wanted for anything. The LAPD has gone nuts over this business, and she’s not even in L.A.; she’s in San Francisco.”

  “Has your attorney explained all this to the D.A.?”

  “Of course he has, but they don’t want to listen to the truth; they just want a witness against Barbara. Harvey is filing for a writ of habeas corpus to get me out.”

  “Well, good luck. In the meantime I have some good news. A client of mine is interested in buying your shares in Centurion Studios.”

  “What is he offering?”

  “It’s a she, and she’s offering twenty-five hundred dollars a share.”

  “Yeah, I heard about Terry Prince’s takeover attempt of the studio. I’ll bet he’d give me more than twenty-five hundred.”

  “Twenty-five hundred is his current offer, and I have some reason to believe that the deal is not going to work out for him, and if that happens, then his current offer disappears, so your shares might be worth quite a lot less.”

  “Yeah, so you say.”

  “It’s up to you, Mr. Long: you can accept my client’s offer or stick with Prince and take a chance of losing a lot of money on your shares. It’s up to you.”

  Long fidgeted in his seat. “Oh, hell, all right; I’d rather be on Rick Barron’s side in all this, anyway.”

  “Rick has asked me to give you his regards and to thank you for selling to us. This way, you’ll still have a studio to go back to when you get out of here. If Prince got his hands on the property, it would have made it impossible for Centurion to continue as they have.”

  “All right, how do we go about this?”

  “Where are your share certificates?”

  “In my office safe at Centurion.”

  “Does your attorney have the combination?”

  “I’ll give it to him when I see him; he’s coming tomorrow.”

  “I’ll see that he gets the sales documents to sign, so he can bring them with him. He asked me to tell you to call him as soon as you can.”

  “I’ll try to call him this afternoon, if I can get to the phone. There’s always a line.”

  “I’ll have the documents faxed to him from New York first thing tomorrow morning. They’re already closed for the day.”

  “I’m sure that will be fine. When will I get the money?”

  “As soon as Harvey sends me the signed documents, I’ll have it wired to your bank account. We might be able to manage it tomorrow, certainly the day after.”

  “Good.” Long stood up and rapped on the door. The guard came in and cuffed him. “Nice to meet you,” Long said.

  “I hope you get your writ,” Stone said.

  Dino was waiting on the front steps when Stone emerged from the building. “How’d it go?”

  “Long has agreed to sell us his shares. With the five thousand from the other guy, Baird, we should have a majority ownership in a day or two.”

  “I’ve got some news, too: Alexei what’s-his-name, Prince’s driver, has turned up dead. Somebody dumped his body at the La Brea Tar Pits, where they found all those prehistoric bones of animals that went down to the water for a drink, got stuck in the tar, and sank. Luckily, they found Alexei’s body before it could sink. Want to take a guess on cause of death?”

  “Tell me.”

  “Ice pick to the back of the neck, like Jennifer Harris.”

  “I guess it would be easy to make that happen if you’re being driven by Alexei, sitting behind him.”

  “Prince has an alibi, of course.”

  “Of course. Man, I’ll be glad when this business is over,” Stone said. “And I hope it’s over before somebody else gets ice-picked.”

  “You can hope,” Dino said.

  Arrington was at the Calder house when they got back, and she was very excited about her airplane.

  “It’s beautiful, Stone, just exactly what I wanted. It’s already got a crew and everything, and they’re willing to move east.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Stone said. “Mike is working on getting you an early closing, and a tax attorney at Woodman & Weld is setting up the corporate structure.”

  “Corporate structure?”

  “Jet airplanes are usually owned by corporations, for liability and tax purposes. You’ll own the corporation. And I have other news.”

  “Good news, I hope?”

  “It looks like Rick has found us the shares we need to gain control of Centurion. They should be transferred in the next day or two.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that. I hope Mr. Prince doesn’t hear about it before we get it done. I’m not sure how much more of his personal charm I can stand.”

  “We’ll have a lot of paperwork for you to sign tomorrow, on the Centurion thing, Champion Farms, the Bel-Air property options, and the airplane. You should be able to fly out of here in your new airplane in a couple of days, with any luck at all.”

  “I’m anxious to get back and go to work with the architect on the new house,” Arrington said.

  “You’ll be back by the weekend,” Stone said, “unless there’s a snag.” Please, he thought, no snags.

  24

  Stone went back to the Calder house and called Rick Barron.

  “How did it go?” Rick asked.

  “Very well; Long has agreed to sell to us. Woodman & Weld will produce the sale documents and fax them to his attorney tomorrow. We’ll wire the funds, and we’ll be done.”

  “That’s great news, Stone,” Rick said.
>
  “Rick, we’ve discussed this before, but what instructions have you left for your estate’s disposal of your shares?”

  “They’ll go to our grandchildren.”

  “Do your grandkids want to be in the movie business?”

  “One is a doctor, the other an architect,” Rick said, “but Centurion will produce a nice income for them.”

  “Do you think they might just as well have cash?”

  “They might,” Rick admitted. “Are you and Arrington offering to buy my shares?”

  “I haven’t discussed it with her, but if you would consider selling her your shares, I’ll bring it up.”

  “I would consider that,” Rick said. “It’s likely that some of the shares would have to be sold, anyway, to pay estate taxes.”

  “I’ll speak to her about it,” Stone said, “and get back to you.” The two men said goodbye and hung up.

  Stone went looking for Arrington in the main house. She wasn’t in the living room or the study, so he knocked on her bedroom door.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Stone.”

  “Come in.”

  Stone walked into the large room and found Arrington sitting at her dressing table, fiddling with her makeup, and dressed in only a bath towel. “Would you like me to come back?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “You’ve seen me naked often enough.”

  “And enjoyed the experience,” Stone replied, standing behind her and rubbing her shoulders.

  She looked at him in the mirror, then dropped the towel, exposing her lovely breasts. “Would you like to enjoy it again?”

  Stone’s reaction was immediate, and Arrington knew it. She moved her head back until it came in contact with his crotch.

  “I think that’s an affirmative answer,” she said.

  “You may be sure of that.” He reached down and fondled her nipples.

  “You know what that does to me,” she said.

  “I do, and it seems to be working.”

  She spun around on her stool, unzipped his fly, and took him into her mouth.

  Stone gave a little gasp. “I believe that’s a bed over there,” he said.

  She stopped what she was doing, took his hand, and led him to the bed. “Get out of those clothes,” she said.

 

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