by Stuart Woods
“That’s the spirit.” The two men said goodbye and hung up.
“He took it well,” Stone said.
His cell phone rang, and Prince’s name appeared on the screen. Stone ignored it.
“I’m going to go have a drink with Rivera and catch up. You want to come?” Dino asked.
“Sure,” Stone said. “I’ve got nothing better to do.” Stone changed and met Dino on the patio.
“Which car you want to take?”
“I don’t want to take the Bentley for a drink with a cop,” Stone said. “He might think ill of us.”
“Good point.”
Stone handed Dino the keys to the Mercedes. “Will you move our car so that I can put the Bentley into the garage?”
“Sure.”
The two of them walked through the house and out to the garage. Dino got into the Mercedes, started it, and backed into a parking spot.
Stone opened the garage door, then got into the Bentley, and pulled it inside.
Dino was standing outside when Stone closed the garage door; the Mercedes was idling, waiting. “I forgot my piece,” he said. “You got yours?”
Stone slapped his belt. “Right here.”
As if Stone had pressed a button, the Mercedes exploded.
39
Stone and Dino were blown a good six feet backward until they came to rest, hard, against the garage door and bounced back into the driveway. A hedge lining the parking spot that Dino had backed into took much of the debris from the car, but they were both peppered with shattered glass. The car burned furiously.
Dino got up and brushed himself off. “I guess we’d better take the Bentley,” he said.
Stone got up, too. “I don’t know how I’m going to explain this to the rental company,” he said.
Manolo came running from the house. “What happened?” he cried.
“We had a malfunction with the car,” Stone explained. “You’d better call nine-one-one and ask for the police and the fire department.”
“I’ll deal with that,” Dino said, reaching for his cell phone. “Rivera is going to have to come over here and have that drink.”
Stone nodded. He called the rental car company at Santa Monica Airport and told them he was going to need a new car.
“Any color but black,” he said. He gave her the address to deliver the new car.
“Where is the old car?” the woman asked.
“It’s here, but not drivable. I think you’d better call your insurer and get them to send somebody out here to look at it.”
“Did you wreck it?” she asked.
“Somebody did.”
“Is it totaled?”
“That would be my estimate,” Stone said, “but the insurance adjustor should make that call.”
“We’ll have a car out there inside of an hour,” the woman said, then hung up.
Manolo had gone into the house and came back with a broom and dustpan.
“No, no,” Stone said, “leave the pieces where they are. Do you have a fire extinguisher?”
Manolo went back into the house and came back with a small extinguisher.
“Never mind,” Stone said. “Let the fire department deal with it.”
An hour later the fire department had left, and so had the patrol car. A team from the crime lab were putting the pieces of the Mercedes on a flatbed truck. Stone, Dino, and Rivera sat at the patio table sipping iced tea, while Rivera took notes.
“So you think Prince did this. You want to add anything else?” Rivera asked.
“There’s nothing else to say,” Stone replied.
“Why do you think Prince did this?”
“He’s the only person in L.A. who might benefit from my demise.” Stone explained about the upcoming stockholders’ meeting at Centurion.
“And you think he destroyed this guy Schmeltzer’s car, too?”
“Yes, but I don’t think he expected Schmeltzer to be in it at the time.”
“Well, he sure must have expected you to be in this one,” Rivera said.
“Dino, remind me to always have you start the car,” Stone said.
Rivera closed his notebook. “It’s not too early for a drink, is it?”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Dino asked.
Stone placed the order with Manolo, and they sat, sipping. “So, what’s the latest on Carter, from Parker Center?” Stone asked.
“We think he’s in Mexico,” Rivera replied. “His mother is from some little town in Sonora, and he still has family there.”
“You going to go after him?”
“Not yet; we have to find a way to prove that he directed some inmate or other to off James Long before we’ll have a charge that can stick. Just leaving off his job isn’t enough.”
“You know,” Stone said, “I’m no longer sure that Terry Prince is directing this little campaign of mayhem.” He told Rivera about Prince’s backers from the drug trade. “Doesn’t this sound a whole lot more like them?”
“Very good point,” Rivera said. “It’s doubtful that a real estate developer would have the kind of direct connections to do these things, except maybe the shanking of Long. After all, we’ve been told that Prince spoke to Carter.”
“Wouldn’t hold up in court,” Dino said.
“Stone,” Rivera said, “do you have any names of the drug people Prince is dealing with?”
“No, I was just told they’re out of Colombia and Mexico.”
“Do you think you could get some names? That might be a big help.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Stone said. “Excuse me.” He stepped away from the table and called Carolyn Blaine. “Is this a bad time to talk?” he asked her.
“Let me call you right back.”
Two minutes later his phone buzzed. “I’m here,” Stone said.
“I bought one of those throwaway cell phones,” she said. “Now the number is in your cell phone.”
“Right.”
“Always call me on this phone, not the regular one.”
“Carolyn, you said that the drug people backing Prince are from Colombia and Mexico; do you have any names?”
“The Mexican is named Ricardo Montino,” she said. “He’s based in Tijuana, I think. I don’t have a name in Colombia. Why do you ask?”
“Well, this morning, somebody torched the car of Jack Schmeltzer. Remember, you asked about him?”
“Yes, but I didn’t pass anything on to Terry.”
“And this afternoon, my rented Mercedes exploded a moment after it was started.”
“Oh, my God. Were you hurt?”
“No, Dino started the car, then got out; that’s when it blew. The police are picking up the pieces now.”
“This stuff is too crazy for Terry to be doing it,” she said. “It’s got to be the Mexican.”
“That’s why I was asking for a name.”
“I wish I could tell you more.”
“Just keep an ear to the ground and let me know what you hear.”
“All right. Are you going to accept Terry’s offer for the Bel-Air property?”
“I’ve told him the conditions, and he hasn’t met them. I don’t have anything more to say to him.”
“He’s very, very nervous,” she said. “I’ve never seen him like this. Normally, he’s the coolest guy in town.”
“Before this is over, he’s going to get a lot more nervous,” Stone said. He hung up and went back to give Rivera the name of Ricardo Montino.
40
A woman from the rental car company showed up with a brand, spanking new Mercedes E500. “We had one with the big engine,” she said.
“Thanks very much.”
“You look like the type who would enjoy the extra power.”
“Do I?”
“Oh, yeah. By the way, we’re charging your American Express Card sixty-three thousand dollars for the black Mercedes.” She handed him a written notice to that effect.
“Hey, wait a minute,” Stone said. “That
’s what the insurance is for.”
She produced another document. “Here’s the original rental form you signed. See where you initialed in the three circles?”
Stone was stunned. “Yes,” he admitted.
“See where it says ‘declined’?”
“Yes.”
“That means you declined the insurance. Too late to change it, I’m afraid.”
“I always decline it, too,” Dino said. “Maybe I’d better start accepting.”
She put a hand on Stone’s shoulder. “Take it easy. American Express will pay for it, if you don’t already have car insurance.”
“I have car insurance.”
“They’ll pick it up, less your deductible.”
Stone heaved a sigh of relief. “Joan would have killed me.” “Who’s Joan?” the woman asked.
“My secretary; she runs my life.”
“I run my husband’s life,” she said, “but I’ll bet I don’t get paid as well as your secretary.” She stuffed the documents in her briefcase. “Have a nice day,” she said, “and try not to blow up any more cars. We’re running out, and it will make your insurance company unhappy.” She left.
“How much is your deductible?” Dino asked.
“Five grand, I think.”
“You’d better bill that to Arrington.”
“You’re right.”
Rivera stood up and tucked his notebook into his pocket. “I’m outa here,” he said. “I’ve got bad guys to chase.”
“I hope you catch up with them,” Stone said, watching him go.
“Where were we going when the car exploded?” Dino asked.
Stone thought about it. “To have drinks with Rivera.”
“Oh, then we got that taken care of, didn’t we? What do you want to do now?”
“I think we’d better do something,” Stone said, “or I’ll start dwelling on what would have happened if I had started the car. Or if you hadn’t gotten out of it in time.”
“I see your point,” Dino said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Stone got into the new Mercedes.
Dino stood over by the garage, where a man in white overalls was already painting the door. “You start this one,” he yelled. “I’ll wait over here.”
Stone took a deep breath and started the car. It didn’t explode.
They drove down into Beverly Hills and took a run down Rodeo Drive. Finally, Stone pulled into the alley behind the Ralph Lauren store and gave the car to the valet parker, along with a twenty. “Please park this where you can see it, lock it, and if anybody messes with it, call the police.”
“Yes, sir,” the young man said, looking at him oddly but pocketing the twenty.
“If it doesn’t explode when I come back, there’s another twenty in it for you,” Stone said. He led the way into the store.
“What are you looking for?” Dino asked.
“I don’t know; it’s therapeutic shopping. I always go shopping after somebody tries to kill me.”
“Does it help?”
“It doesn’t hurt.” Stone stopped at a counter and picked out a couple of neckties.
“Nobody wears neckties out here,” Dino pointed out.
“They must sell them to somebody,” Stone said. “Maybe New Yorkers.” He wandered into the shoe department and found a pair of chocolate-brown alligator loafers he liked. Then he turned over the shoe and saw the price tag.
A sales assistant approached. “Would you like to try those on?” he asked.
Stone gave him his card. “I wear a 10D; call me when they go on sale.” He wandered on.
“Have you forgotten that you’re now a partner at Woodman & Weld?”
Stone went back and tried on the shoes. “I’ll take them,” he said, handing the young man his credit card.
“Feel better now?” Dino asked.
“Much,” Stone replied, accepting a bag containing the shoes.
“What else you looking for?” Dino asked.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s chilly at night out here; how about a sweater?”
“Good idea.” Stone found the correct department and picked out a gold cashmere V-neck. “I’ll buy you one,” Stone said. “After all, you nearly got killed, too.”
Dino picked out a red sweater. “You’re right,” he said. “I feel better, too.”
They wandered on through the store.
“You know,” Dino said, “we’ve never been shopping together. Do you think they think we’re gay?”
“They don’t think we’re gay,” Stone said, “because they know I could do better than you.”
Dino burst out laughing.
They went back to the rear of the store and Stone gave the valet his parking ticket. The car was parked just across the alley, and the valet ran to get it.
Dino pulled Stone behind a large SUV. “Just in case,” he said. The valet started the car and pulled it around for them. It didn’t explode.
“You know,” Dino said as he drove away. “I’ve always found that valet thing a nuisance, but not anymore.”
“You have a point,” Stone said. “It’s the next best thing to having your own garage.” They stopped for a traffic light.
Dino switched off the ignition, extracted the key, and looked at it. “Whaddya know?” he said. “Watch this.” He pressed a button on the key, and the engine started.
“I guess they have a big call for that in L.A.,” Stone said.
41
Back at the house Stone’s cell buzzed. “Hello?”
“Stone? It’s Ed Eagle.”
“Hey, Ed, how are you?”
“Just fine. Susannah and I are back in town, at the Bel-Air Hotel; would you and Dino like to join us for dinner over here?”
“Sure, love to.”
“Seven, in the bar?”
“That’s fine, Ed; see you then.” Stone hung up. “Ed Eagle is in town and invited us to dinner.”
“Fine by me. I don’t know the guy very well.”
“He’s a top defense lawyer in the West; married to Susannah Wilde, actress?”
“Her, I know,” Dino said.
“You’ll like them.”
“I’m prepared to.”
They had a drink before dinner in the Bel-Air bar.
“I heard a rumor that Terry Prince is going to build a new hotel in Bel-Air on your client’s property,” Eagle said.
“In his dreams,” Stone replied. He told Ed about the hang-up on the Centurion deal.
“Would she really sell?”
“I haven’t had a firm answer from her, but it’s possible, I think.”
“You think such a hotel could compete with this one?”
“I’ve no idea,” Stone said, “but Terry Prince thinks so, and he’s willing to bet a ton of money on his judgment.”
“His own money?”
“That, I don’t know, but his assistant, Carolyn Blaine, thinks it is.”
“Is that the blonde I saw here at the Bel-Air reopening party?”
“Yes. I was going to introduce her to you, but she vanished.”
“I thought she looked familiar,” Eagle said. “Now I remember why.”
“Why?”
“She reminds me a little of a woman who lived in Santa Fe for a while. She worked for a client of mine named Hanks, a pro golfer.”
“Sure, I know who he is. He’s doing very well on the tour this year, isn’t he?”
“He is. But last year, this young woman embezzled something like seven hundred thousand dollars from his bank accounts, then vanished.”
Stone’s eyebrows went up. “And you think Carolyn is that woman?”
“I’m not sure,” Eagle said, “but there’s something about her. The one in Santa Fe wasn’t a blonde.”
“That’s very interesting, Ed, because I ran a background check on her, and Carolyn Blaine doesn’t exist. I even got her fingerprints and ran those, but nothing came up. She’s a blank sheet of paper.”
> “That is very interesting,” Eagle said.
“What was her name?”
“I can’t for the life of me remember, but it wouldn’t matter, anyway, because that name was probably an alias, too.”
“Is anybody looking for her?”
“We made all the proper complaints to the authorities, but she seems to have covered her tracks completely. The stolen funds were wired to offshore accounts, but they were unable to trace her through those. I think she may even have been involved in some way with my ex-wife, Barbara.”
“Whatever happened to Barbara?” Stone asked.
Eagle and Susannah exchanged a meaningful glance. “Well,” he said, “she made another attempt on my life last year, and it nearly worked. I was hospitalized for a spell.”
“Do you know where she is now ?”
“Yes, I do; she’s in San Francisco, remarried, and a hot number on the social circuit there.”
“But shouldn’t she be in prison? Wasn’t she convicted of something?”
“She got off on a charge of trying to kill me in L.A., but she was wanted in Mexico for attempted murder, and I and a couple of P.I.s tricked her into crossing the border and got her arrested there. She was doing time in a Mexican prison when she escaped and made her way back to this country. You won’t believe what happened next.”
“Try me.”
“Her most recent husband, a very rich man, died in a car crash on a freeway north of Palo Alto, and he left a will limiting her to a monthly stipend and the use of an apartment in San Francisco. Some lawyer heard something in a country club locker room to the effect that her husband’s attorney had forged the part of the will cutting her out, and he managed to get it overturned, so she inherited everything, more than a billion dollars. She used some of her money to buy herself a pardon in Mexico, and now she’s as free as a bird.”
“I don’t believe it!” Stone said.
“I said you wouldn’t.”
“And there’s nothing you can do about the attempt on your life?”
“The only witness against her, the contract hit man she hired, was murdered—we think she did that, too.” Eagle looked at Susannah again. “I was so angry I flew to San Francisco to deal with her myself, but at the last minute, Susannah talked me out of it.”
