by Stuart Woods
But Stone was way ahead of her. They fell onto the bed, and she resumed her earlier activity.
“Wait,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “I don’t want to finish too soon.”
“I don’t want that either,” she said, pulling him on top of her and helping him inside her. “It’s been too long,” she breathed as she began to move under him.
“You’re right,” he replied.
She came in less than a minute. “Again,” she said. “This time with you.”
Stone held it back as long as he could, and her rising orgasm finally set him off. They were both noisy about it.
An hour or so later, Stone disentangled himself from Arrington and used her shower. When he returned, she was back at her dressing table, wearing a slip. “Isn’t this where I came in?” he asked, rubbing her shoulders while she brushed her hair.
“It is, and what did you want to talk about?”
“We’ve got the shares we need to control the studio, in conjunction with Rick Barron. It occurred to me that it might be good for you to buy his shares, too. Rick’s in his nineties, and if he leaves them to his grandchildren, we could find ourselves back in the same situation in a few years.”
“Can I afford it?”
“I’ve already asked Bill Eggers to extend your line of credit for another hundred million.”
“That’s a breathtaking amount of money,” she said. “How will I ever pay it back?”
“When the market goes up again, and it will, you’ll sell other stocks and repay the loan. Hardly anything in your portfolio would be a better investment than Centurion.”
“I’ll do whatever you recommend,” she said. “You know I trust you.”
“Then I recommend that you buy the twenty thousand shares from Long and Baird.”
“And that will give us control?”
“With Rick voting his hundred thousand shares and Charlene Joiner voting her fifty thousand, yes.”
“What about Jennifer Harris’s shares?”
“We don’t know yet if her estate will sell them to us, but we don’t need them, because we have Long’s and Baird’s shares.”
“Sounds good to me,” Arrington said. “By the way, I’ve arranged for dinner here tonight and invited Mike Freeman, too. I hope that will be all right with you and Dino.”
“Of course. Why don’t we invite Rick and Glenna and Charlene Joiner, too? We can call it a celebration of both your new airplane and our achieving voting control of Centurion.”
“Sounds wonderful. Will you call the Barrons and Ms. Joiner?”
“Of course.” Stone got on the phone and issued the invitations.
“They’ll be here at six-thirty for drinks,” he told Arrington.
“Good. Now go away before you and I get started again. I have to do my hair and makeup.”
“You overestimate me,” Stone said, retreating.
“No, I don’t,” she replied.
Stone fled. He went back to the guesthouse, got Bill Eggers’s voice mail at Woodman & Weld, and left him a description of the sales documents for the purchase of both Long’s and Baird’s shares, and instructions to fax Long’s to Harvey Stein and Baird’s to himself. Now he wouldn’t have to rise at six o’clock the next morning to get that done.
Dino woke up from a nap, and Stone told him of the dinner arrangements.
“Good excuse for a party,” Dino said.
“Two good excuses,” Stone replied. “Don’t forget Arrington’s new airplane.”
25
Stone walked out to the pool a little before six-thirty and found half a dozen bottles of ten-year-old Krug champagne in a copper tub of ice. Arrington appeared from the main house in a gossamer white dress, looking ravishing.
“Why don’t you pop one of those corks?” she suggested.
Stone popped the cork and found a pair of her Baccarat champagne flutes. “To the movie business and fast airplanes,” he said, and they drank. “Yeasty,” he offered.
“Crisp,” she said. “Wonderful stuff. It’s been in the cellar for years.”
Dino appeared and accepted a flute. “Arrington,” he said, “you’ve never looked more beautiful.”
She kissed him lightly on the lips. “Dino, you’ve just paid the rent on a permanent lease of my guesthouse.”
“A bargain,” Dino said. “Hey, what is this champagne? It’s different from what they sell at Elaine’s.”
“Elaine sells Dom Pérignon; this is Krug Brut, the good stuff.”
“I like the good stuff.”
“When are you going to retire, Dino?” Arrington asked.
“Retire from the NYPD? What would I do for fun?” he replied.
Manolo showed Mike Freeman out to the pool, arm in arm with Charlene Joiner. “Miss Joiner and I have just met,” he said. “I’m a big fan.”
“Isn’t he sweet?” Charlene said.
Stone introduced Arrington and Charlene. Each eyed the other up and down as they shook hands.
“Arrington,” Mike said, “everything is in hand for your airplane purchase. The insurance has been arranged, and we’ll have the pre-purchase inspection finished tomorrow. I’ve faxed the sales agreement to Woodman & Weld for their approval. Everything seems to be in perfect order.”
“Perfect order is what I like,” Arrington said.
Rick and Glenna Barron arrived and received champagne.
Rick raised his glass. “To a new day at Centurion, with a long life ahead.” They all drank.
They were about to sit down for dinner when Manolo came to Stone and whispered, “There’s a Mister Harvey Stein on the phone for you. He said it was urgent.”
“I’ll take it in the guesthouse,” Stone said. “Please excuse me for a moment, everybody.” He went into the guesthouse living room, picked up the phone, and pressed the lighted button. “Harvey?”
“Stone, I’m sorry to have to call you in the evening, but I’ve just had a call from Parker Center. Jim Long is on his way to the hospital.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“There was some sort of fight among several inmates in the dining hall during the supper hour, and Jim was knifed with a homemade shank.”
“How is he?”
“He’s lost a lot of blood, and he’s about to lose a kidney, but he’s hanging on.”
“Is he in the prison hospital?”
“The warden has agreed to move him to Cedars-Sinai for the surgery. He’s in the ambulance now. I’m meeting him at the hospital.”
“You’d better arrange some personal security for him,” Stone said.
“Why? Nobody’s going to knife him at Cedars-Sinai, and anyway, there’ll be a cop outside his door.”
“Harvey, does anybody besides you, me, and Long know that he’s agreed to sell us his shares in Centurion?”
“Why no. . .. well, possibly.”
“Who?”
“Terry Prince’s attorney phoned this afternoon to try and buy the shares. I was out of the office and an associate took the call. It’s possible that he might have spoken out of turn. Surely, you don’t think that Prince is responsible for this.”
“Did you read the piece in the L.A. Times about the death of Eddie Harris’s daughter, Jennifer?”
“Yes, I saw it. Was she going to sell you her shares?”
“No, but she was going to vote with us.”
“Oh, shit. I had no idea.”
“Did you talk to Jim today?” Stone asked.
“Yes, he called my cell and gave me the combination to his safe at Centurion. I went over there and picked up the share certificate; that’s why I was out of the office.”
“Where is the certificate now?”
“At the office, in my safe.”
“I don’t suppose Jim had an opportunity to sign it.”
“No, I was going to see him tomorrow morning.”
“Well, Harvey, I think you’d better get a couple of armed guards over there. A cop napping outside the
door isn’t going to make him safe.”
“I’ll do that right away.”
“And Harvey?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want to sound callous, but the best thing you can do to keep Jim safe is to get him to sign that certificate at the earliest possible moment—tonight, if possible. And let Prince’s attorney know about it.”
“I see your point; I’ll do what I can.”
Stone gave him his cell number. “Please call me when you have his signature. The sales documents will be in your fax machine when you get to your office tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll do that,” Stein said.
Stone hung up, then stood and thought for a moment. There was no point in telling the others about this at the moment, he decided. Why ruin the dinner party? He turned to find Dino standing in the doorway.
“Everybody’s sitting down. Everything okay?”
“Not exactly,” Stone said. “Jim Long got himself shanked in some sort of fight at Metro Jail.”
“Dead?”
“Bleeding. He’s on his way to Cedars-Sinai to have a kidney removed.”
“Any chance he’s going to live to make the sale?”
“His lawyer is taking the stock certificate to the hospital for his signature. He realizes that Long won’t be safe until the stock comes to us.”
“Well, Charlene has already got security in place, but what about Arrington?”
“I think I’d better talk with Mike Freeman about that,” Stone said. “Strategic Services has a Los Angeles office.”
“Prince has a long reach, doesn’t he?”
“You could say that,” Stone replied. “We’re at three bodies, two of them dead, and counting.”
They rejoined the party, but everyone had already taken seats at the table, so Stone would have to wait until after dinner before speaking to Mike about Arrington’s security.
26
The party continued merrily until nearly midnight, very late for L.A., where movie people rose at dawn and headed to their shoots. As everyone began to drift out, Stone took Mike Freeman aside.
“Mike, that phone call I took before dinner was not good news. One of the Centurion shareholders whose stock we need to acquire to keep the studio from being sold was shanked in jail earlier this evening and is having a kidney removed at Cedars-Sinai.”
“Is he going to make it?” Mike asked.
“I don’t know; he’s lost a lot of blood. What I’m concerned about now is Arrington’s safety, since she’s the largest Centurion stockholder.”
“You think this fellow Prince is behind the stabbing?”
“Two other people, one a stockholder and the other her assassin, are already dead. Can your L.A. office arrange some security for Arrington, starting immediately?”
“I’ll take care of it right away,” Mike said, reaching for his cell phone. “Let’s see, we’ll need a man inside the front gate, one inside the house, near Arrington’s bedroom, and three patrolling the grounds. Is it fenced the whole way around?”
Stone beckoned Manolo, who was clearing the dining table.
“Yes, Mr. Stone?”
“Manolo, does the wrought-iron fence go all the way around the property?”
“Yes, sir, and, it’s all on the alarm system.”
“I’ll need to take a look at the system,” Mike said.
“Manolo,” Stone said, “Mr. Freeman is going to arrange for security guards to come to the house tonight. Please let them in when they arrive, and right now, show Mr. Freeman the security system.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Stone.”
“And not a word to Arrington about this.”
“No, sir, Mr. Stone.”
Manolo and Mike went into the house together.
Stone and Dino sat down and had a nightcap.
“Mike is arranging security for Arrington,” Stone said.
“Great. What about security for you?”
“Me?”
“You’re the guy who’s running the show that’s trying to foil Prince’s takeover of Centurion.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Stone said.
“I think we should start carrying,” Dino said.
“I think you’re right,” Stone replied.
Stone was dressing the following morning when his cell buzzed.
“Hello?”
“Stone, it’s Carolyn Blaine. It’s important that I see you as soon as possible.”
“Can’t we talk over the phone?”
“No, I don’t trust the phone.”
“All right, come here for breakfast; you know the way.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour,” she said, then hung up.
Stone was the first up. Dino was apparently still asleep, and Arrington was not an early riser. He buzzed Manolo. “Manolo, I’ll be having a guest for breakfast, a Ms. Blaine. She should be here in around half an hour.”
“Yes, Mr. Stone. The security people arrived around one a.m. and are doing their work.”
“Tell the one in the house not to be standing at Mrs. Calder’s door when she wakes up. He must be discreet until I’ve told her about the security.”
“Yes, Mr. Stone.”
“We’ll have some of your eggs Benedict for breakfast, this time with smoked salmon instead of ham.”
“Yes, Mr. Stone.”
His cell buzzed again. “Hello?”
“It’s Eggers.”
“Good day, Bill.”
“We faxed the sales documents for Mr. Long’s Centurion stock to Harvey Stein a couple of hours ago.”
“That’s good news. How about Baird’s documents?”
“Faxed to you; also, the corporate documents and sales agreement for Arrington’s airplane. Also, instructions to Chase to allow us to transfer funds from her account on her behalf. Make sure she signs where indicated. As soon as you fax that back to Chase, we can wire the funds for exercising the options on her adjoining property.”
“Certainly. You know, Bill, it’s great to have the firm behind me like this. I could never have gotten it all done on my own.”
“You need the firm now, because you have the clients to support.”
“Of course.”
“And the extension of Arrington’s line of credit has been granted for two hundred million.”
“Again, thanks.” Stone said goodbye, then hung up.
Stone ran his belt through the loops, then stopped. He took his travel gun, a Colt Government .380, from his case and put it on his belt, then slipped into a linen jacket to cover it.
His cell buzzed again. “Hello?”
“Stone, it’s Harvey Stein.”
“How is Jim?”
“He was in a coma when I got there—result of loss of blood, and he hasn’t come to since the surgery.”
“Prognosis?”
“No better than a fifty-fifty chance of recovery. If he crashes now, we’ll have to start thinking about unplugging him. I’m his medical surrogate and his executor, so it will be up to me to decide if and when.”
“I don’t envy you that, Harvey.”
“I don’t envy me that, either. I’ll call when there’s news.” He hung up.
Carolyn made it in twenty minutes, and Manolo showed her out to the pool, where he had set the table.
“You look flustered,” Stone said. “Breakfast will be here shortly; would you like a mimosa?”
“No, thank you, just some orange juice.”
Stone poured them each a glass from the pitcher on the table. “Now,” he said, “what’s up?”
“First of all, Terry Prince found out yesterday that you had been to see James Long in jail, and that he had agreed to sell you his stock.”
“Oh? How did he know about that?”
“Terry is very plugged into the LAPD, and he has taken an interest in Long, since he learned he’s a stockholder. His lawyer talked to Long’s law firm yesterday.”
“I see.”
She fidgeted
for a moment. “There’s more,” she said. “Someone knifed Long during the dinner hour last night.”
Stone decided to play dumb. “Is he all right?”
“He had surgery last night at Cedars-Sinai; I haven’t heard the result yet.”
“Why are you telling me all this, Carolyn?”
“You once said to me that if I needed legal advice to come to you.”
“That’s right, I did, but you don’t appear to have done anything wrong—not from what you’ve told me, anyway.”
“It’s not that,” she said. “Yesterday, quite by accident, I picked up the wrong phone line and heard Terry order Long’s murder.”
“Did he say that: ‘Murder James Long’?”
“Not exactly.”
“What did he say, exactly?”
“He said something like, ‘It needs to be done tonight; tomorrow could be too late.’ ”
“He could have been talking about getting a haircut. What made you think he was ordering a murder?”
“Terry called me and told me to bring in the file on a project we’re working on. I was with him for a good four hours before we finished. Shortly before I left, he got a phone call, and I answered. It was a man named Carter, whom I knew from other calls; he works at Parker Center. Terry took the call, and I pretended to go through the file while he talked. He said, ‘Is it done?’ Then he said, ‘Did Long have an opportunity to sign any papers today?’ I think the answer to the first question was an explanation of what had happened to Long, and the answer to the second question was no. He hung up, and I asked if everything was all right. He said he wasn’t sure; a friend was having surgery at Cedars, and he wouldn’t know anything until morning.
“I had some dinner with a friend, and when I got home I heard on the news that James Long had been stabbed at the jail and taken to Cedars-Sinai. It was easy to put two and two together.”
“And,” Stone said, “since you put two and two together only after the fact, you had no reason to call the police yesterday.”
“That’s right, and I’m not sure that what I could testify to is enough to get Terry tried and convicted.”
“I think you’re right about that,” Stone said.