Son of Stone

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Son of Stone Page 8

by Stuart Woods


  “What about this separate living in New York and Virginia?”

  “That’s still to be negotiated, after we’ve settled the basic question.”

  “Yes, I’ll marry you,” she said, “gladly and with enthusiasm.” They kissed for a long time.

  Finally, Stone broke free. “Wait right here,” he said, getting up.

  “Did you think I was going somewhere?”

  Stone padded across the bedroom to his dressing room, where he pushed back some suits and opened his safe. He felt around at the rear of the steel box until he found it, then he locked the safe, went back to Arrington, and handed her the box.

  She looked at him, mystified, then opened it, revealing the ring inside, along with a matching diamond wedding ring.

  “It’s not as big as your old one,” Stone said, “but it’s more, ah, tasteful.”

  “It’s gorgeous,” she said. “When did you buy this?”

  “Before our planned trip to the islands,” he replied. “I had planned to give it to you when we were in St. Marks, but we didn’t quite make it there, at least, not together. It’s been in my safe ever since.”

  Arrington slipped it on. “It’s perfect. What is it, six carats?”

  “Five and a bit, nearly flawless.”

  “You couldn’t afford this in those days.”

  “I managed. Now it seems like a good investment; it would cost five times as much now.”

  She sat up in bed next to him, naked, looking nymph-like, looking at her ring on her finger. “We have some things to work out.”

  “Yes, we do. Before we start, remember that I have a career in New York, more than ever.”

  “I am cognizant of that,” she said. “But you have to remember that I’m building a new house, and that it’s almost finished. I have work to do there, and I’ll want to spend a lot of time there. I admit, I’m enjoying New York more than I did when I last lived here, and I love your house, too.”

  “You have a fast airplane,” he said. “You can come and go as you wish. I hope you’ll miss me, though.”

  She sighed. “I’m sure I will. And I think we should go ahead with the hotel project in Los Angeles.”

  “All right.” Arrington’s house in Bel-Air rested on eighteen acres, and Stone had put together a plan to develop it as a hotel. “Do you think you’ll have to spend a lot of time there?”

  “No, I don’t. I’ll make the architects and landscapers come to New York or Virginia with their plans, and I’ll try not to go until my house there is finished.” Part of the deal was that the developers would build her a house on the hotel grounds.

  “Sounds good.”

  “You and Woodman & Weld have done a superb job of putting my affairs in order. That’s why I think I can go ahead with the project.”

  “On behalf of Woodman & Weld, I thank you. You have a lot to thank Mike Freeman for, too. He’s put together a great group of investors and brought in the hotel management group, too.”

  “I’ll write him a note on my best stationery,” she said.

  “Order some new stationery tomorrow,” Stone said.

  “That brings up another problem, a very big one,” she said.

  “Stationery?”

  “Yes. I cannot be Arrington Barrington.”

  Stone burst out laughing. “This could wreck the whole thing, couldn’t it?”

  “It certainly could.”

  “I have a solution.”

  “I hope so. Tell me.”

  “Your maiden name is Carter; call yourself Arrington Carter Barrington. You could even hyphenate it, if you’re feeling posh.”

  “Arrington Carter Barrington. That makes all the difference, doesn’t it?”

  “All you needed was a little air between the two names.”

  “Lots of people use names like that these days,” she said, repeating it.

  “They do, don’t they?”

  “When do you want to get married?”

  “Well, for purposes of our visit to our son’s new school tomorrow, I think we should style ourselves Mr. and Mrs.”

  “Good idea.”

  “After we see the school, we can run down to City Hall and pick up a license, then we can speak the vows at our leisure.”

  “Listen, Stone, we have to be very careful, very private about this. I don’t want to see stories in the newspapers about us. That might make things difficult for Peter, if he has to start explaining his new name to people.”

  “We’ll do it as secretly as possible, and let people find out as it comes up.”

  “You’ll want Dino for best man, won’t you?”

  “Yes. Whom do you want for maid of honor?”

  “I don’t know; I’ll have to think about it. I don’t have a lot of girlfriends.”

  “No rush.”

  She stretched out in his arms again. “Arrington Carter-Barrington,” she said. “With a hyphen. Will you be Stone Carter-Barrington?”

  “Ah, no.”

  “Oh, all right.” She kissed him for a long time, then nature took its course.

  19

  Stone went down to the office for a few minutes before leaving for Knickerbocker Hall, and Joan buzzed him. “Seth

  Keener on one,” she said.

  Stone picked it up. “Good morning, Seth.”

  “Morning, Stone. A couple of things: it seems the New York State legislature is going to pass a no-fault divorce law sometime soon. We have to decide whether to wait for that or go ahead with the present petition.”

  “The present petition has been filed; let’s stick with it. It might even get resolved more quickly, because of the impending no-fault law; some cases might be withdrawn to wait for no-fault.”

  “All right. The other thing: I’m hearing rumors that 60 Minutes is about to do an investigative piece on the island of Monoto.”

  This was the Pacific enclave of the wealthy where Stephanie Fisher and her brother had run after looting the family firm. “What does that have to do with the divorce?”

  “I’m not sure. It depends on how big an effect the program has.”

  “I don’t think it matters what effect the show has. The petition is filed. If you know anybody who can rush it, that’s fine with me and, I’m sure, with my client.”

  “Okay, I’ll get on it.”

  “Does Stephanie know about 60 Minutes?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If I were you, I’d wait for her to bring it up. No point in getting her upset now.”

  “You have a point.” Keener hung up.

  Peter and Arrington appeared in his office, Peter dressed in a sweater and an open shirt.

  “Where’s your necktie?” Stone asked.

  “The headmaster told me not to wear one.”

  Stone shrugged. “Okay. Peter, for purposes of this interview, your mother and I have decided to style ourselves as Mr. and Mrs.”

  “Whew,” Peter said. “That’s a relief.”

  “In fact,” Arrington said, “Stone and I have decided to make that styling permanent, and quite soon.”

  Peter smiled broadly. “Then I won’t be a bastard?”

  “Peter!” his mother said.

  Stone laughed. “I don’t think you’d better bring that up again, and especially not at the school.”

  They got out of a cab at Knickerbocker Hall, which occupied a large building in the East Nineties.

  “It looks very well kept up,” Arrington said.

  “They must have a big endowment,” Stone replied. “I imagine we’ll be hearing a lot about that.”

  “You mean, we’ll have to make a contribution to get Peter in?”

  “Oh, I think they’ll be more subtle than that,” Stone said.

  They climbed the front steps and made their way to the administrative offices. Someone took their coats, then Arthur Golden, the headmaster, met them in the reception area and introduced himself. “Peter and I have already met, of course. This is a good time for our tour, since
everyone is in class. In forty-five minutes, the bell will ring, and all hell will break loose.”

  He led them down the main hallway, and they peeked into two or three classrooms. “The classes are quite small,” Arrington said.

  “We’re proud of that,” Golden said. “Never more than twenty, and more often, fifteen or so.” He showed them the science labs, which were impressive, then he opened a large door that led to the next building.

  They saw a life art class, featuring a not-quite-nude model, and a sculpture gallery. Then they went through a door and emerged into the balcony of an auditorium from which all the seats had been removed. A set had been constructed, and a student director was speaking with a small group of actors.

  Golden pressed a finger to his lips.

  Peter hung over the rail of the balcony to get a better view, and they all watched the scene performed. Golden led them out into the hall. “That will be filmed later; they have to move the camera from another set.”

  “You have only one camera?” Peter asked.

  “Two are being repaired,” Golden replied. “It seems they’re always in the shop. And they’re not digital.” He led them through another door that led to a corridor containing a number of rooms that were used as editing studios.

  “You’re still using Moviolas?” Peter asked, referring to the editing machines.

  “We have a Steenbeck,” Golden replied, “but we need new equipment.”

  After their tour they returned to Golden’s office, where they were offered tea.

  “We’d like very much to have Peter as a student here,” the man said. “I’ve talked about his situation with some of the faculty, and we think that his time should be divided equally between film classes and courses from the university curriculum for the freshman year.”

  “I’ve already taken most of those courses,” Peter said.

  “I saw that from your transcripts, but we think you need more history, a philosophy course, and a language.”

  “I’ve been tutored in French,” Peter said, “but I never had a course at school.”

  “We’ll evaluate you to get a sense of your level, and go from there,” Golden said. He handed Stone an envelope. “Here is a schedule of our fees.”

  “Peter,” Stone said, putting the envelope into a pocket, “is Knickerbocker your choice?”

  “Oh, yes, sir!” Peter said. “It certainly is.”

  “Then you may join us at the beginning of the next semester, in January,” Golden said, “and we look forward to having you as a student, Peter.”

  Everyone shook hands, and on the way out Golden said to Stone and Arrington, “Frankly, considering what I’ve seen of Peter and his record, I’m not sure how long we can hold on to him before he’ll be going to Yale.”

  Stone and Arrington left Peter at the house, then took a cab down to City Hall, where they stood in line for a marriage license. Stone saw a man with a camera in a corner of the room and stepped between him and Arrington. “Just act natural,” he said to her. “This will be over soon.”

  They left the building with their license in hand, and the man with the camera followed them, but Stone made sure he shielded Arrington and that his back was to the camera.

  “Who was that man?” Arrington asked when they were in a cab.

  “I don’t know. He’s probably a stringer for one of the columns, looking for celebrities.”

  “Do you think he recognized us?”

  “You haven’t been in the papers much since Vance’s death,” Stone said. “It’s more likely that he might have seen me at Elaine’s. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  They joined Dino at Elaine’s, and Stone told him they had a marriage license. “That’s good news,” Dino said. “Eduardo will want to know that. Do you mind if I tell him?”

  “No, go ahead,” Stone said, and Arrington nodded. “I’m looking forward to meeting Eduardo,” she said.

  20

  The following day Stone was working at his desk when Joan buzzed him. “Eduardo Bianchi, on line one,” she said.

  Stone picked up the phone. “Hello, Eduardo,” he said.

  “Good day, Stone,” Eduardo replied in a voice still youthful, given his great age. “I’m so happy you are joining my family and me for Christmas dinner.”

  “Arrington and I are looking forward to it,” Stone replied, “and she’s looking forward to meeting you.”

  “I wonder if I may tender an invitation of another kind?”

  “Of course.”

  “Dino has told me of your plans to marry soon.”

  “That’s right, we got a license yesterday.”

  “There will be an official present at our Christmas dinner who would be pleased to marry you, I’m sure, if you can come half an hour early.”

  “What a lovely thought,” Stone said. “I’d be delighted, and I’m sure I can accept on Arrington’s behalf. You’re acquainted with Bill Eggers, managing partner at Woodman & Weld, I know.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’d like very much to invite Bill to the ceremony,” Stone said.

  “Of course you may. I’d be very pleased to have Bill and his wife to dinner, as well, if he doesn’t already have plans.”

  “I’ll ask him and let you know.”

  “Very well, then, please be here promptly at twelve-thirty on Christmas Day.”

  The two men said good-bye, and Stone hung up. Stone called Eggers, told him of their plan, and invited him.

  “Marian and I would love to be with you,” Eggers said, speaking of his second wife. “It’s Betty’s year to have the kids for Christmas, so we don’t really have any plans. I’ll call Eduardo myself and accept, and we’ll see you Christmas Day.”

  Stone, Arrington, and Peter lunched in the kitchen, and he told Arrington of Eduardo’s invitation.

  “How very nice of him,” Arrington said. “I hope you accepted.”

  “I did, and I’m glad you’re happy about it.”

  “Please tell me more about Eduardo,” she said.

  Stone took a deep breath. “He’s a remarkable man. There are rumors that, in his youth, he became an important figure in the old Mafia, and that he may even still be involved in some way, but no one has ever been able to substantiate that, and I’ve never had the courage to ask him for fear of offending. If the rumors are true, then he’s always been able to keep that association buried deep in his background.

  “In any case, Eduardo has succeeded brilliantly in a number of fields. He founded an investment bank and became a major shareholder in a couple of big brokerage houses and serves on a number of big corporate boards. He’s also on the boards of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Metropolitan Opera, among other nonprofits, and he wields more personal influence in more areas than any man I know or have ever heard of.”

  “That’s impressive,” Arrington said.

  “Peter, Eduardo is also Ben’s grandfather. His daughter Mary Ann was married to Dino.”

  “Didn’t Mary Ann have a sister?” Arrington asked.

  “Yes, Dolce, but she’s mentally ill and is in some sort of facility in Sicily.” Stone didn’t mention that he and Dolce had once been married in a civil ceremony in Venice, and that, when Dolce went mad, Eduardo had seen that the marriage document was removed from the city’s records and sent to Stone. He had burned it.

  “Where does Eduardo live?” Peter asked.

  “Way out in Brooklyn, on the water, in a very impressive house, and you should remember to call him Mr. Bianchi, unless he asks you to do otherwise.”

  “Of course,” Peter said. He produced his leather envelope and took out a document. “I want to send in this application to Yale,” he said, “and I’ll need your signature.”

  “Good idea to apply now,” Stone said, and Arrington agreed. “Do you think two semesters at Knickerbocker will be enough for you?”

  “I think so. There’s always summer school, too.”

  “Oh, I’d like you to spend at le
ast some of the summer in Virginia,” Arrington said.

  “If that’s what you want, Mother.”

  “So nice to have a dutiful son,” she said. “What are your plans for the afternoon, Peter? Will you be working on your film?”

  “No, there’s an Orson Welles series at the Film Forum, and Ben and I are going to go. He’s never seen a Welles film.”

  “He has a treat in store,” Stone said.

  “Yes, he does,” Peter agreed. “He’s gotten very excited about film. I don’t think he’d given it much thought until we met, but now he wants to see everything.”

  “You’re a good influence,” Stone said. “If Ben weren’t seeing so many movies with you, he’d be getting into some sort of mischief. That’s what his father says, anyway. Dino is very happy about your friendship.”

  “So am I,” Peter said.

  21

  The lights came up at Film Forum after Citizen Kane, and Peter and Ben rose and shuffled out of the theater with the crowd.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Peter said.

  “That’s because I’m stunned,” Ben replied. “I want to see it again.”

  “I have it on DVD,” Peter said. “Come on back to the house, and I’ll rack it up for you.”

  They took a bus back to Turtle Bay, and Peter let them into the house with his key. Stone was standing just inside the door taking off his overcoat and hanging it in the hall closet.

  “Hey, fellas,” Stone said. “How was the movie?”

  “Movies,” Peter replied. “Ben liked them.”

  “Especially Citizen Kane,” Ben said.

  “We’re going to go upstairs and watch it again on DVD,” Peter said, “so please excuse us.”

  “Of course, go on up.”

  The boys ran up the stairs to Peter’s room, and he found the disc for Citizen Kane.

  “Did you say Welles was twenty-four years old when he directed this movie?” Ben asked.

  “That’s right, and he was already a big actor and director on Broadway and on the radio.”

  “That’s unbelievable,” Ben said.

 

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