Bel-Air Dead

by Stuart Woods

  “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.

  Manolo brought breakfast, and they began to eat.

  “Tell me, Carolyn,” Stone said, “do you have any idea what happened to Terry’s driver, Alexei?”

  “Only what I read in the papers,” she said. “Terry brought up the subject, but he seemed to be as mystified as I. The man hadn’t come to work the day before, and when I called his apartment there was no reply. No reply to his cell phone, either.”

  “What about Jennifer Harris? Any ideas about her death?”

  “Who?”

  “That was in the papers, too. She was the daughter of Eddie Harris, who used to run Centurion, and she had inherited his stock in the studio.”

  “Now that you mention it, I think I saw something about her in the papers, too, but I didn’t connect her with Terry’s attempt to get control of Centurion.”

  They finished breakfast, and Carolyn got up to go. “What should I do?” she asked.

  “Nothing, for the moment, just keep an ear to the ground. Although what you’ve told me isn’t enough for an arrest, it could be very useful at trial in conjunction with other evidence that might be found in an investigation.”

  “Stone,” she said, picking up her handbag, “why did you tell me at the Bel-Air Hotel party not to mention to Terry that Mrs. Calder has an option to buy some property adjoining her estate?”

  “I can’t tell you that right now, but it’s better for you that Prince doesn’t know. You’ll have to trust me on that.”

  “All right,” she said, “I will.”

  Stone watched her walk back toward the main house, and he wondered why he was not sexually attracted to her. She was quite beautiful, after all.

  27

  Stone retrieved the Woodman & Weld documents from the fax machine in the house, and when he returned to the patio, Arrington and Dino were having breakfast. He put the envelope on the table and poured himself a second glass of orange juice.

  “You’re not eating?” Arrington asked.

  “I was hungry; I ate earlier.”

  “What’s the big envelope?”

  “Many documents for your signature. Signing them will wrap up the property purchase, the airplane purchase, the purchase of Baird’s shares, and it will authorize Woodman & Weld and me to transfer funds from your line of credit to pay for all of that.”

  “You didn’t mention the purchase of James Long’s shares.”

  Stone sighed. “There’s a problem with that.” He told her about the attack on Long.

  “You mean Prince can have people killed in prison?”

  “It’s not as hard as you might imagine, if you have a contact on the inside.”

  “I’m beginning to feel unsafe,” she said.

  “You’ve had round-the-clock security since late last night,” Stone said. “Mike Freeman arranged it, and his people are good.”

  “Oh, then I feel safer.”

  “With any luck at all you’ll have everything wrapped up and will be able to fly back to Virginia tomorrow—the day after, at the most.”

  “You mean if James Long doesn’t die.”

  “I mean if he signs the papers. If he dies, then we have to deal with his estate.”

  “Oh, God,” she said.

  “We have to take these things as they come,” Stone said. “Everybody’s working very hard to make this work.”

  “I know you’re working hard, Stone, and I’m very impressed by how quickly you’ve been able to generate all the paperwork for these various transactions.” She put her fork down. “Okay, give me a pen.”

  Stone guided her through the documents, then doublechecked to be sure she had signed them all, then he summoned Manolo and gave him instructions on faxing the documents.

  “Before the day is out, you’ll own Baird’s shares, the adjoining properties, and the airplane.”

  “Things didn’t happen this fast when I was dealing with Mr. Sharp, back in Virginia. He would have taken weeks to get all this done.”

  Manolo came and told Stone he had a call.

  “Hello?”

  “Stone, it’s Rick Barron. Have you heard about Jim Long? The morning news said he’s in the hospital.”

  “Yes. We’re still going to make this happen, Rick. We just have to wait for him to be sufficiently conscious to sign the sales documents. They’re in his attorney’s hands now.”

  “What else can go wrong?”

  “Don’t worry, we’re going to get there.” Stone didn’t feel as confident as he sounded, but it was important to keep the man’s spirits up. “His attorney will call me when there’s news, and I’ll let you know immediately. Did you call any of the other shareholders about selling?”

  “I stopped when I thought we had enough shares.”

  “Well, you’d better get back on the phone, just in case we need more shares.”

  “All right, I’ll do that.” Rick hung up.

  “Anything I can do?” Dino said.

  “Yes, you can call your pal Rivera and tell him there’s a man at Parker Center called Carter, who is in Terry Prince’s pocket and who may have been involved in Jim Long’s shanking.”

  “I can do that,” Dino said. He got up and went into the guesthouse.

  “Prince is a persistent son of a bitch, isn’t he?” Arrington said.

  “Yes, he is.”

  “What are we going to do if he wins the Centurion battle?”

  “Worst case, you’ll probably get three thousand dollars a share for your stock. That’s not too bad a downside.”

  “But Rick will see his beloved studio die.”

  “I hope not, but nothing ever remains the same; things keep changing.” Stone thought maybe this was the time. “Worse comes to worse, there may be a way to keep Centurion from Prince, even if he wins this fight.”

  “How can we do that?” Arrington asked.

  “As of today, you own—what?—eighteen acres of Bel-Air?”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “Prince has gone into the hotel business, bought several prime properties around the country. That’s mostly why he wants Centurion, so he can build another. He tried to buy the Bel-Air Hotel but failed. I think he wanted it very, very badly.”

  “So?”

  “So, if he owned your property here, he could build his own hotel in Bel-Air.”

  Arrington blinked. “I suppose there is enough land for that,” she said. “But how would that stop him from buying Centurion?”

  “You could make the sale of your land conditional on his agreeing not to acquire Centurion. I suspect that, although the Centurion deal might make better business sense, his ego would prefer having his own hotel in Bel-Air.”

  “You know,” Arrington said, “I might like to have my own hotel in Bel-Air. That would be quite a project, wouldn’t it?”

  “Stop having that dream for the moment,” Stone said. “Let’s see how this works out.”

  “If you say so,” she said.

  28

  Stone gave his car to the parking attendant at the Bel-Air and walked across the bridge to the hotel. The swans were back in the little stream, as if they had never left. Maybe they hadn’t, he reflected.

  Stone presented himself to the headwaiter and was shown to a large, semi-circular booth at the rear of the garden restaurant, where Terry Prince was already seated.

  “Forgive me for not getting up,” Prince said, offering his hand as Stone slid behind the table. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Some iced tea,” Stone said. He reckoned he should keep his wits about him today.

  Prince ordered a mimosa for himself and iced tea for Stone. “I hope you’re having a pleasant stay in our city,” he said.
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  “Very much so,” Stone replied.

  “You mentioned the absence of my driver.”

  “I read about it in the L.A. Times.”

  “Ah, yes; I didn’t see that myself.”

  “Then you don’t know that Alexei was killed in the same fashion as Jennifer Harris?”

  “Really? I did read about Ms. Harris, as I suppose you did.”

  “Actually, I saw the police report,” Stone replied. “The puncture wound was filled with spirit gum, so that it might go unnoticed. It didn’t, though.”

  “That sounds bizarre,” Prince said.

  “The mark of a practiced professional, I’d say.”

  “Do you have some expertise in professional murders?” Prince asked.

  “I was a New York City homicide detective for many years, before I began practicing law.”

  “Ah, that wasn’t mentioned in the announcement.”

  “Announcement?” Stone asked.

  “You haven’t seen this morning’s New York Times?”

  “No.”

  “There was an announcement of your joining Woodman & Weld as a partner.”

  “I see. Actually, I’ve been of counsel to the firm for rather a long time.”

  “Well, I congratulate you on achieving partner level in such a prestigious firm.”

  “Thank you.”

  Menus arrived, and they ordered. Stone could not resist the taco soup, a favorite of his.

  “Most of my business interests are on the West Coast,” Prince said, “but I’m considering some projects in New York, among them a new hotel.”

  “Sounds interesting,” Stone said.

  “I think it will be,” Prince replied. “Might you have an interest in representing me for my New York projects?”

  “I’m afraid I would have a conflict that would prevent me from doing so,” Stone said.

  “You’re referring to your representation of Mrs. Calder?”

  “I am.”

  “How did you become involved with her?”

  Stone paused. Did Prince’s use of “involved” have a double meaning? “We’ve been friends for a number of years.”

  “I understand she’s broken ties with Howard Sharp, in Charlottesville,” Prince said.

  “I’m not surprised you know about that,” Stone said, “having bought her house there.”

  “Yes, that was Mr. Sharp’s last representation of her,” Prince said. “I thought he did a good job.”

  “That means the way he did his job somehow reacted to your benefit, I suppose.”

  Prince laughed heartily. “You’re very perceptive, Stone.”

  “Let’s just say I think she will be happier with Woodman & Weld,” Stone replied.

  Lunch arrived and they began to eat.

  “Stone,” Prince said, pausing to take a sip of his tea. “I’m sorry we seem to be working at cross-purposes in the Centurion transaction.”

  “It’s not a transaction yet,” Stone said.

  “Touché. In the Centurion offer, shall we say.”

  “Yes.”

  “I wonder if you might not soften your position in that deal if you were personally participating in it, instead of just representing Mrs. Calder.”

  “What are you suggesting, Terry?”

  “I would not be so crass as to make you an offer,” Prince said smoothly. “But if you could somehow bring the deal to a swift conclusion, you might be free to represent my New York interests all the sooner, might you not?”

  “As long as you were not involved in a business deal adversarial to Mrs. Calder’s interests, that would be ethically possible.”

  “Well, then, do you think we might move forward on the Centurion deal, then?”

  Stone put down his fork. “I take it that Jim Long is still alive,” Stone said, “and I’m beginning to think that he might even have regained consciousness.”

  Prince said nothing, only shrugged.

  Stone’s cell vibrated on his belt. “Will you excuse me a moment?” he said, sliding from behind the table and walking into the garden. “Hello?”

  “Stone, it’s Harvey Stein. Jim Long is awake, but not talking yet. His doctors seem very relieved, and they may let me see him before the day is out.”

  “That’s good news, Harvey. Will you keep me posted?”

  “Of course.”

  Stone hung up and returned to the table. “Wonder of wonders,” he said, “Jim Long is awake.”

  “I’m very happy for him,” Prince said. “You must have good sources.”

  “Not as good as yours,” Stone said. “After all, you heard first.”

  “Only a short time ago.”

  “Still, you had time to talk with me, before I found out.”

  “Information is a valuable commodity,” Prince said.

  Stone signaled for a waiter to remove his plate. “You must have a very large payroll, Terry,” he said.

  “Large enough for my purposes.”

  “I understand the police are concerned about connections among the stabbings of Harris, Alexei, and Long. But then, you already knew that, didn’t you?”

  “I assure you, I have no connection to any of those events.”

  “No? Even though two of them are Centurion shareholders who take our side in the deal? And the other is suspected of killing Ms. Harris?”

  “Again, I have no connection with any of that.”

  “I think the police are going to become even more interested, should an attempt be made on anyone else associated with Centurion,” Stone said. “And let me tell you this: if anyone else associated with my client should have some . . . accident, I am going to take a personal interest in the case—over and above the police investigation.”

  Stone placed a hundred-dollar bill on the table and got up. “Good day,” he said, and walked away.

  29

  Stone drove back to the house in a fury. He found Dino on his way out.

  “What are you so pissed off about?” Dino asked.

  “Does it show?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “I just had lunch with Prince, and I regret having done so.”

  “Wasn’t he nice?”

  “He tried to bribe me to throw the Centurion deal his way.”

  “What did he offer you?”

  “Nothing specific, just the promise of a lot of business in New York.”

  “Anything else?”

  “He blithely denied any connection to the stabbings of Jennifer Harris and Jim Long. Long is awake, by the way, and it looks like he’ll make it.”

  “If Prince doesn’t get to him again.”

  “His lawyer has security on the job. Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to check in with Rivera, to see if there’s anything new on the recent mayhem.”

  “Did you tell him about this guy, Carter, at Parker Center?”

  “Yeah, he’s looking into it,” Dino said, then added, “Arrington’s around somewhere.”

  “I’ll find her.”

  Stone gave Dino the car keys and watched him go. He walked through the house and emerged to find Arrington sunning herself, topless, by the pool. He walked over and kissed her on each nipple.

  “That was nice,” she said, smiling.

  “It certainly was.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “Having lunch with Mr. Prince.”

  “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “No.” Stone told her the details.

  “He really is slimy, isn’t he?”

  “I hope there’s something terribly wrong with the house you sold him,” Stone said.

  She laughed. “I told him there were bats in the cellar and raccoons in the attic, but he didn’t believe me.”

  “Are there?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. It will be a nice surprise for him. I put it on the disclosure form, too, but I’ll bet he didn’t bother to read it.”

  “He implied that Howard Sharp somehow slanted things in h
is favor during the proceedings.”

  “Then he deserves the raccoons and bats.”

  “I think you’re well rid of Mr. Sharp,” Stone said.

  “Well, I’m certainly a lot happier with you and Woodman & Weld,” she said. “I’m very impressed at how smoothly you’re all handling things. I would never have dreamed of asking Chase for a two-hundred-million-dollar loan.”

  “The rich are different from you and me,” Stone said. “Well, from me, anyway.”

  “I never paid much attention to what I have,” Arrington said, “as long as the check arrived every month, and there was enough to pay for the house and furnishings. That reminds me: the auction of all my furnishings is this weekend, so I hope to be able to fly home tomorrow.”

  “I’ll speak to Mike and see that everything is ready for you.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart. When I’m in the new house I want you to come and visit. It would be nice if you got to know your son a little, too. I think you’ll like him.”

  “I’m sure I will,” Stone replied, though the thought of dealing with a child frightened him. “I hope I’ll know what to say to him.”

  “Oh, he’s easy to talk to; easy to listen to as well.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Stone’s phone buzzed, and he answered it.

  “Hi, it’s Mike.”

  “Just talking about you,” Stone said.

  “I hope that’s good. I just wanted you to know that all the paperwork on the airplane will be finalized by the end of business today. The pre-purchase inspection went very well indeed, only a few small things to be corrected. It’s in beautiful shape.”

  “Can she fly out tomorrow morning for Virginia?”

  “She can indeed. Our New York office has arranged temporary housing for her crew, while they look for something more permanent, and she now has hangar space at Charlottesville Airport.”

  “You’ve done a fantastic job for her, Mike. Please send your bill to me in New York, and I’ll see that it’s taken care of.”

  “There won’t be a bill; it was mostly a few phone calls.”

  “You’ve done a lot more than that,” Stone said. “I owe you.”