Three Stone Barrington Adventures

by Stuart Woods

  “Good morning, Ed.”

  “Thanks for the DNA sample. SFPD is working on it. I think they had to send it away for testing, but they don’t want to admit it.”

  “When will we know?”

  “A day or two, they say. The D.A. here is about to jump out of his skin; he really wants an arrest in this case. I hope she’s not showing any signs of doing a runner.”

  “None at all. There’s going to be a meeting here tomorrow morning that she doesn’t want to miss.” Stone brought Ed up to date on the Bel-Air land deal.

  “Well, if the hotel gets built, put me down for a regular suite,” Eagle said. “I seem to be trying more and more cases out there.”

  Stone had barely hung up when Carolyn Blaine called, sounding frazzled.

  “What’s wrong?” Stone asked.

  “I’m worried,” she said. “I’ve been at the office with Terry the past couple of days, and while he’s playing his cards close, I get the idea that the Colombian and the Mexican are back in the picture. What I think is happening is that they’re horning in on the Calder property deal to get their investment in Centurion back from Terry. They’re scrambling around assembling cash from various sources, so that Terry can have a cashier’s check ready for tomorrow.”

  “I thought he wanted to keep that deal for himself.”

  “He may not have a choice,” she said. “If that happens, it will blow Eleanor’s participation out of the water, but I’ll still get to do the development work.”

  “Swell,” Stone said. If you aren’t in a New Mexico jail, he thought.

  “I’ll keep you posted; otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” She hung up.

  “Now what?” Dino asked, looking over his newspaper.

  Stone sighed. “I just may have put Arrington in business with two drug cartels. That’s who Terry Prince is raising his money from.”

  Dino shook his head and ducked back behind his paper.

  Stone’s phone went off. “Hello?”

  “It’s Mike Freeman.”

  “How are you, Mike?”

  “I’m okay, and I’ve been talking to people about Arrington’s property. One of my clients is the majority stockholder in a worldwide hotel group, and I think he’d be a perfect partner in the deal.”

  “That’s great, Mike, but we have a problem: it looks like Prince may be able to close tomorrow, and the source of his funds is two drug cartels, one Colombian, one Mexican.” He read the names from his notebook. “Word is, they’re assembling cash from what was called ‘various sources’ as we speak.”

  “Do you know what account they’re using in L.A.?”

  “I assume it’s Prince’s personal account at Wells Fargo, in his office building, because that’s where the first payment came from.”

  “Let me make a couple of calls,” Mike said, and hung up. Late in the afternoon he called back. “I’ve spoken to a couple of people I know at DEA and Treasury, and they’re going to be paying a lot of attention to where Prince’s money is coming from,” Mike said.

  “Tell them they’d better pay attention fast,” Stone replied.

  “We’re running out of time here. Our closing is set for tomorrow morning.”

  “Where?”

  “Here, at the house.”

  “Can you delay it?”

  “Maybe for an hour, but Prince won’t like it; he has to close by noon.”

  “Try for the hour; it could make a difference.”

  “I’ll do that,” Stone said. He hung up and called Carolyn at Prince’s office.

  “Yes?”

  “Tell Prince we have to close at eleven, instead of ten, and that we’ll be doing it here.”

  “He won’t like that.”

  “I don’t care if he likes it, just tell him eleven a.m. here, at the house.”

  “I’ll tell him.” She hung up.

  Stone hardly touched his lunch.

  “I’ve never seen you this nervous before,” Dino said. “Relax, will you? You’re making me nervous.”

  Stone finished the wine in his glass and took a few deep breaths.

  Arrington appeared on the patio. “I’m going home,” she said. “You don’t need me for this closing.”

  “No,” Stone replied, “and I think it’s just as well you’re going.” He thought of telling her about the involvement of the two drug cartels but couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  She kissed Dino on the forehead, then came and put her arms around Stone. “Thank you for all you’ve done,” she said.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Stone replied, giving her a kiss. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

  Arrington walked back into the house and was gone.

  “So,” Dino said, “it’s just you and me against the bad guys.”

  “I hope we’re enough,” Stone said.

  60

  On Friday morning Stone managed to get down some breakfast, but he couldn’t make himself pay attention to the newspapers. He called Ed Eagle to find out if there was any word on the DNA tests, but had to leave a message. He called Mike Freeman.

  “Stone, they said they’d see what they could do, but I don’t know what that means or if they’ll do it. I wish I could tell you more.” They said goodbye.

  Dino looked up from his eggs. “You don’t look any happier,” he said.

  Stone pushed his plate away and drank some orange juice to keep up his blood sugar. “I’ve made a terrible mistake,” he said.

  “I’m doing business with drug dealers, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “Then don’t close the deal.”

  “If I don’t, they’ll take us to court and win, and it will just prolong the whole thing.”

  “Stone, when you’ve done everything you can do, there’s no longer anything to worry about.”

  “That’s just it: I keep thinking there’s something else I could do, but I can’t think of what it is.”

  Dino sighed. “Think about flying,” he said. “This time tomorrow we’ll be high in the air, halfway across the country. This will all be behind you.”

  “I wish I were up there now.” He tried to think of flying, but the thought made him nauseated.

  At the stroke of eleven, Manolo announced Mr. Prince and Ms. Blaine, and the two walked onto the patio, both carrying briefcases. They sat down at the table by the pool, except Dino, who settled himself on a chaise longue with the newspapers, watching Stone warily over the top of the page.

  “Everything is all arranged,” Prince said, opening his briefcase and taking out a stack of papers. He began handing sheets to Stone, explaining each and indicating where Stone should initial them. Stone looked them over carefully, trying to take as much time as possible, though he wasn’t sure what he was waiting for.

  Carolyn seemed very nervous. She rose from the table and began pacing up and down the edge of the pool.

  Finally, Prince produced the last of the documents, the one that would seal the deal.

  Stone read it through. “And the funds?” he asked.

  Prince reached into his briefcase and produced a cashier’s check for two hundred twenty-five million dollars.

  Stone glanced at his watch: five minutes before twelve. He had lost. “Is this drawn on your personal account, like the last check?” he asked Prince.

  “That’s correct.”

  “I’d like to speak to your banker before I close the deal.”

  “Of course,” Prince said, whipping out his cell phone and pressing a speed dial button. He got the banker on the phone and handed it to Stone.

  “Good morning, Mr. Barrington,” the man said.

  Stone thought he sounded nervous. “Good morning,” he replied. “Mr. Prince and I are about to close a large transaction, and he has presented me with a cashier’s check for two hundred twenty-five million dollars drawn on his personal account. Can you affirm that this is a proper check that will be paid on presentation?”

  The man seemed to be breathi
ng more rapidly. “I’m afraid there’s a problem,” he said. “There’s a man in my office from the Drug Enforcement Agency, and he has presented me with a court order freezing Mr. Prince’s account. Therefore, I can’t pay the check.”

  “I’d like you to tell your client that,” Stone said, and handed the phone to Prince.

  “What?” Prince said, then put the phone to his ear. “Yes?” As he listened his face slowly fell into an expression of disbelief. “That’s preposterous!” he said, then listened some more. “There’s nothing you can do?” He listened some more. “I’ll get my attorney on this immediately.” He closed the phone and looked at Stone. “I’m afraid I’m going to need an extension,” he said.

  Stone took a deep breath. “Denied. The deal, at your specification, was to be closed by noon.” Stone looked at his watch. “One minute past, and no closing.”

  “What happened?” Carolyn asked. She had stopped pacing.

  “The DEA has frozen Mr. Prince’s bank account,” Stone said. “He can’t fund the deal.”

  A smile spread across her face. She took a step toward the table and opened her briefcase. “I’m so sorry, Terry,” she said. She removed a sheaf of documents from her briefcase and handed them to Stone. “I would like to present my offer for the property,” she said. “And I have a perfectly valid check for the closing amount.” She handed a cashier’s check to Stone. “Feel free to call my banker,” she said, handing him a card.

  Prince, who had been staring at her, open-mouthed, recovered enough to speak. “You incredible bitch!” he said. “Do you think I’m going to let you and that woman get away with this?” He stood up, and there was a gun in his hand.

  From Stone’s point of view, what happened next was reduced to slow motion: Prince pointed the gun at Carolyn Blaine; she threw up her hands and turned her head away, closing her eyes tightly. Dino threw away his newspaper and clawed at his belt for his own weapon. Prince fired a single shot.

  Stone saw a pink cloud explode from the back of Carolyn’s head. The force of the bullet spun her around, and she fell into the pool. The water around her head became pink.

  Stone dove for Prince’s wrist, got hold of it and twisted up and out. Prince lost his grip on the gun and fell backward. Stone jumped on him. “Cuffs!” he yelled to Dino. The handcuffs landed on the flagstones next to him. He rolled Prince over, twisted his arm up and got one cuff on, then he looked over his shoulder and saw Carolyn floating facedown in the pool, in a patch of red water. “The girl!” he yelled at Dino.

  Dino knelt on the edge of the pool and tried to reach Carolyn’s left foot, but he couldn’t quite reach it.

  “Go in!” Stone shouted, trying to get the struggling Prince’s other wrist cuffed.

  Dino shucked off his jacket and jumped into the pool.

  Stone left the handcuffed Prince and ran to help him. They got her out of the pool and lifted her onto a chaise longue.

  Suddenly, Carolyn spat water at both of them. “What the hell happened?” she yelled, coughing up more water.

  “Be quiet,” Stone said. “You’ve been shot.” He picked up a towel and pressed it behind her head, then checked it: red, but no gray matter. “Looks like it just creased you.”

  “But there’s so much blood!” she yelled.

  “Calm down,” Stone said, “scalp wounds always bleed a lot. Dino, call your pals at the LAPD. Tell them we need the medics, too.”

  Dino got on his cell phone.

  “Stone, sign my deal,” Carolyn said. “Sign the papers, take the check.”

  “I’m sorry, Carolyn,” Stone replied. “We have another buyer.”

  “Another buyer! Who?”

  Stone was about to answer her when Manolo walked out onto the patio and looked, appalled, at Prince, handcuffed on the flagstones, and Carolyn, bleeding into one of Mrs. Calder’s good towels. “Excuse me, Mr. Stone, but there are some people here from the Santa Fe, New Mexico, Police Department. They want to speak to Ms. Blaine.”

  Stone grinned. “Send them right out, Manolo.” He turned to Prince. “You’ll have to wait for the LAPD,” he said.

  61

  Stone was packing the following morning when his cell phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Stone, it’s Ed Eagle.”

  “Hello, Ed. I tried to reach you yesterday, but everything turned out all right. She has a slight head wound, but the SFPD showed up at the perfect moment and took her away. And now Terry Prince has a second attempted murder charge against him.”

  “Everything didn’t turn out entirely all right, Stone,” Eagle said. “The cops took her to an emergency room, where she got some stitches, and the doctor insisted on keeping her overnight for observation. They put her in a room with another patient, with a cop on guard outside her door. She stole her roommate’s clothes, and while the cop was in the john, she ran out of the hospital and found a cab dropping somebody off at the ER.”

  “Amazing,” Stone said. “Then what?”

  “The cops went to her address and found the garage door open. They think she had a second car there, but they had no idea what kind, so all they could do was issue an APB for her, with no description of the vehicle. Unless the cops get very lucky, she’s gone.”

  “I hope they fingerprinted her at the ER,” Stone said.

  “Nope, apparently they don’t have that facility. And she still has the cash in the foreign bank account that nobody can find.”

  “I wonder how much she stole from Terry Prince,” Stone said.

  An hour later, Stone took off from Santa Monica Airport and got vectors toward Palmdale, to the east. The weather forecast was for ninety-knot westerly winds.

  “We’ll make Wichita on the first leg,” Stone said. “Then from there, if we’re lucky with the winds, all the way to Teterboro.”

  “Take your time,” Dino said, opening a book of New York Times crossword puzzles, “I’ve got all day.”

  Stone leveled off at forty-one thousand feet and turned into the sun.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  I am happy to hear from readers, but you should know that if you write to me in care of my publisher, three to six months will pass before I receive your letter, and when it finally arrives it will be one among many, and I will not be able to reply.

  However, if you have access to the Internet, you may visit my website at www.stuartwoods.com, where there is a button for sending me e-mail. So far, I have been able to reply to all my e-mail, and I will continue to try to do so.

  If you send me an e-mail and do not receive a reply, it is probably because you are among an alarming number of people who have entered their e-mail address incorrectly in their mail software. I have many of my replies returned as undeliverable.

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  Please do not send me your ideas for a book, as I have a policy of writing only what I myself invent. If you send me story ideas, I will immediately delete them without reading them. If you have a good idea for a book, write it yourself, but I will not be able to advise you on how to get it published. Buy a copy of Writer’s Market at any bookstore; that will tell you how.

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  A list of my published works appears in the front of this book and on my website. All the novels are still in print in paperback and can be found at or ordered from any bookstore. If you wish to obtain hardcover copies of earlier novels or of the two nonfiction books, a good secondhand bookstore or one of the online bookstores can help you find them. Otherwise, you will have to go to a great many garage sales.

  1 A Holly Barker Novel

  2 A Stone Barrington Novel

  3 A Will Lee Novel

  4 An Ed Eagle Novel

  BOOKS BY STUART WOODS

  FICTION

  Strategic Moves2

  Santa Fe Edge4

  Lucid Intervals2

  Kisser2

  Hothouse Orchid1

  Loitering with Intent2

  Mounting Fears3

  Hot Mahogany2

  Santa Fe Dead4

  Beverly Hills Dead

  Shoot Him If He Runs2

  Fresh Disasters2

  Short Straw4

  Dark Harbor2

  Iron Orchid1

  Two Dollar Bill2

  The Prince of Beverly Hills

  Reckless Abandon2

  Capital Crimes3

  Dirty Work2

  Blood Orchid1