by Stuart Woods
“I hear he’s in and out of consciousness but not well enough to make a business decision.”
“And you need his shares for a majority?”
“That’s correct.”
“Do you know the reason for this dinner party, Stone?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“I opened a picture last weekend, Window Shade.”
“I hope it’s doing well.”
“It brought in sixty-five million dollars domestic for the weekend. It’s the biggest hit of my career, and I think it’s going to have legs both in this country and around the world.”
“I congratulate you.”
“I made that picture at Centurion for a third less than it would have cost to produce at a major, and it’s going to make me rich beyond my fondest dreams.”
“I congratulate you again.”
“The fact is, when I agreed to sell my shares to Prince, I did it because I needed the money to make my next film. Now I don’t need the money.”
“And?”
“I won’t sell Arrington my shares, but I’ll vote with her and Rick Barron against the sale.” Schmeltzer offered his hand. “You have my word on it.”
Stone took his hand and shook it warmly. “Thank you, Jack. That means that Centurion is going to be the studio you’ve always known, both for your next picture and the one after that, and for a long time to come.”
Schmeltzer smiled. “Let’s go get some dinner.”
They walked back into the living room where a line was forming for a huge buffet at one end. Stone found Charlene. “Hungry?” he asked.
“Always. How did you and Jack get along?”
“Famously,” Stone replied.
“Is he on board?”
“I believe he is.” Stone looked at her. “Did you have anything to do with his change of heart?”
“Well,” she said, “this afternoon I fucked his brains out.”
Stone burst out laughing.
Dino and Hetty joined them in the buffet line. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Tell you later,” Stone replied.
“You look awfully relaxed,” Dino said.
“I think I’m more relaxed than at any time since we arrived in this town,” Stone replied.
Dino looked at Hetty. “I’m planning to get more relaxed myself.”
The four of them sat at Charlene’s breakfast table the following morning.
“Feeling relaxed, Dino?” Stone asked.
“You bet your ass,” Dino replied, and the women laughed.
Stone’s cell phone buzzed, and he stepped out of the room to take the call. “Hello?”
“Stone, it’s Harvey Stein; Jim Long is conscious, and his doctor says he’s going to make a complete recovery.”
“That’s s good news, Harvey. Thanks for letting me know.”
“I’m going to wait a day or two before asking him to sign the documents and transfer the shares. I want to be sure that he’s right on top of things before such a big move.”
“That’s fine with me, Harvey; we’re not so much under the gun now.”
“Why is that?”
“We’ve rounded up another fifteen thousand shares to vote with us.”
“Do you still want to buy Jim’s shares?”
“Yes, we do.”
“Well, that’s a relief; he certainly needs the money.”
“Has anything developed on the case against him?”
“I’m going to use his condition to try and get him bail, so he can recuperate at home. And once the prosecutor hears he’s in the money again and can fight back, I think I can get the case dropped. They’re really after Barbara Eagle.”
“I understand, and I wish you luck. Let me know when Jim has completed the sale, and I’ll get the funds wired.”
“Thanks, Stone.” They both hung up.
Stone called Rick Barron and gave him the news about Jack Schmeltzer’s decision to vote his shares against the sale.
“What a relief!” Rick said. “This has been a real roller-coaster ride; what else can happen?”
“Don’t ask,” Stone replied.
36
Stone was driving back to the Calder house when his phone buzzed again. He stopped at a traffic light. “Hello?”
“It’s Carolyn Blaine; where are you right now?”
“At Pacific Coast Highway and Sunset,” he said.
“Can you meet me at a coffee shop in fifteen minutes?”
“Where?”
She gave him the address. “It’s near my office.”
“I’m on my way.” He hung up and turned left on Sunset.
“Who was that?” Dino asked.
“Carolyn Blaine.”
“What did she want?”
“She wants me to meet her in fifteen minutes. She’s nervous about talking on the phone.”
Stone drove to the address in Westwood and parked the car. “I’ll leave the a/c on for you,” he said to Dino, then got out and walked into the coffee shop. Carolyn was already at a table.
Stone sat down, and they both ordered coffee. “What’s up?” “I should ask you that,” she said. “Terry has gotten very edgy and prickly, too.”
“Why?”
“For some reason, you really get to him. Every time he sees you he comes back fuming. It’s creepy.”
“Well, I’m sorry if I’ve made life more difficult for you.”
“What did you talk about last night at Jack Schmeltzer’s?”
“Terry took me aside and talked to me about Arrington Calder’s property in Bel-Air. Thanks for passing that information.”
“You’re welcome; what did he say?”
“He offered two hundred million bucks and to build a house for her on the grounds.”
“He’ll go higher,” she said.
“How high?”
“Two-twenty-five, maybe two-fifty mil.”
“Wow.”
“It’s a unique piece of property,” she said. “There’s nothing else like it in the United States. He likes a lot that it’s across the street from the Bel-Air Country Club. He’s a member there, and he thinks he could do some sort of deal with them to let his hotel guests play there.”
“He seems to be moving very fast.”
“Oh, yes; he’s already got his architects doing site plans.”
“Yes, he told me about his idea for putting all the parking underground.”
“It’s a good use of the space; he can put buildings or tennis courts over the garage area. Have you heard anything from Jim Long?”
“I heard this morning that he’s conscious and will make a full recovery.”
“When Terry hears that he’s going to go absolutely nuts.”
“You think he might make another attempt on Long’s life?”
“In the state he’s in, he’s capable of anything. Did you come to any sort of agreement on the Centurion deal?”
“No. In fact, I told him that Arrington would not consider selling him the Bel-Air property without a binding agreement for him to withdraw from the Centurion deal first.”
Carolyn looked astonished. “And he agreed to that?”
“No, just the opposite, but I think he’ll come around.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” she said.
“What is it that I don’t know?”
“I’ve learned that the money behind the Centurion deal is from some business associates of his late brother, the drug king.”
“South American interests?”
“Colombian and Mexican. They’re very excited about the Centurion property, and they fronted all the planning money.”
“How are they likely to feel about the Bel-Air deal?”
“Oh, Terry would never let them in on that. That will be his personal triumph, his pet project. If those people ever thought that he would kill the Centurion deal in order to buy the Bel-Air property, they would be incensed, and they’re not the sort of people you’d want angry with yo
u.”
“That’s very interesting,” Stone said.
“It’s Long’s shares that will give you a majority of the votes, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Stone said. He wasn’t about to tell her about Jack Schmeltzer’s shares.
“How did you get on with Jack Schmeltzer?” she asked.
“I shook his hand; he was very cordial.”
“Did the Centurion deal come up in your conversations?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Well, he’s s one of the shareholders that Terry has in his pocket.”
“I didn’t know that,” Stone said.
“You didn’t know Schmeltzer before last night?”
“No, someone else invited me to his party. I’d never heard of him before that.”
“Are you really serious about selling Terry the Bel-Air property?”
“If the price is right, and I think building Arrington a house would be a very good carrot.”
She looked at her watch and set down her coffee cup. “I’ve got to get back,” she said. “He’ll be out of his meeting soon, and I want to be back in my office by then.”
“Carolyn, if you get the impression that Prince is going to make a move against Jim Long, please get in touch. He’s got personal security now, but he may want to beef it up.”
“Well, I can give you my opinion on that,” she said. “If Long goes back to jail, he’s a dead man.”
“Thanks, I’ll pass that along.”
She shook Stone’s hand and left.
Stone paid the bill and went back to the car, where Dino had a jazz station on the Bentley’s radio.
“So?”
“She says Prince is getting crazy,” Stone replied. “She says the money behind the Centurion deal is drug-related, and if the deal falls through, his partners will . . . well, they’ll be very angry.”
“Interesting,” Dino said.
“I told Prince that there would be no deal on the Bel-Air property unless he dropped his bid for Centurion.”
“Well,” Dino chuckled, “he can’t do that, can he? Not without making the wrong people mad.”
“Seems that way,” Stone said.
“You’re going to nail him to the wall, aren’t you?” Dino asked.
“Only if I get the chance,” Stone replied.
37
Stone was back at the Calder house when Rick Barron called.
“Stone, the Centurion shareholders’ meeting is set for early next week to take a vote on Prince’s final offer.”
“Has he come up with a final offer yet?”
“No, and he’s playing his cards very close to his vest.”
“We have a couple of new cards, too.”
“Tell me.”
“Jim Long is recovering; I think we’ll own his shares before the meeting.”
“And if we don’t?”
“We have fifteen thousand new shares that will vote our way.”
“From whom?”
“I promised I wouldn’t say. He doesn’t want it known until he actually votes. Frankly, I don’t blame him, what with the way that others have been dealt with.”
“Neither do I,” Rick said. “Do you feel confident he will actually vote with us?”
“He gave me his word, and I had a very strong impression that he meant it.”
“God, I hope I get through this without having a stroke,” Rick said.
“Just relax, Rick; it’s going to be all right.”
“I hope you’re right, Stone. Talk to you later.” They both hung up.
Manolo came out to the patio and handed Stone a brown envelope. “This was delivered by messenger a moment ago.”
Stone opened the envelope and found a formal offer for the Bel-Air property for two hundred fifty million and the new house. There was no mention of the Centurion deal. Stone called Arrington.
“Hello?”
“You out of your house?”
“I am; I’m in the rental.”
“We got an offer from Prince for your Bel-Air property a moment ago: two hundred fifty million and a house for you, built to your specs.”
“Wow!” she said. “I never thought he’d go that high.”
“It’s a rich offer, no doubt.”
“But?”
“But there’s no mention of the Centurion deal. I told him you wouldn’t consider an offer that didn’t include that.”
“What do you think he will do?”
“I’ve learned that the Centurion deal money is coming from some very sleazy people who would go nuts if he backed out of it.”
“So he’s—what’s the expression?”
“Between a rock and a hard place.”
“Exactly. What do you want to do?”
“I want to ignore the offer.”
“And how do you think he will react?”
“He’ll be very upset. The Centurion shareholders’ meeting is scheduled for early next week, to vote on his final offer, and we now have the votes to kill the deal.”
“Does he know that?”
“No. He’s going to get a rude shock when the votes are tallied.”
“Do you think he’ll still want the Bel-Air property if the Centurion deal doesn’t happen for him?”
“I think he will, but I don’t know what the consequences of the failed deal might be.”
“What should I do?”
“Nothing. I won’t even respond to the offer on Bel-Air. Let him stew in his own juices.”
“If he calls me directly, what should I tell him?”
“Refuse to discuss it; refer him to me.”
“Whatever you say, Stone.”
“Those are words I don’t hear nearly often enough.”
She laughed. “Bye.” She hung up.
Stone put the offer back in its envelope and tossed it on the table. It might make a nice souvenir, he thought. He picked up the phone and buzzed Manolo.
“Yes, Mr. Stone?”
“Manolo, if a Mr. Prince phones me, I’m not available, and you don’t know when I will be.”
“Yes, Mr. Stone.” He hung up.
Dino came out of the guesthouse in fresh clothes. “Lunch?” “Don’t mind if I do,” Stone said. He called Manolo and ordered for them. Stone showed Dino the offer.
“Wow!” Dino said.
“That’s what Arrington said.”
“Is she going to take it?”
“Nope. We’re not even going to respond.”
“I think you’d better start traveling with a bodyguard,” Dino said.
“But Dino, I have you; what more security do I need?”
“I hope you’re right, pal.”
Stone’s cell phone buzzed. He checked the caller ID before answering. “Hello?”
“It’s Harvey Stein; I have good news.”
“I can always use good news,” Stone said.
“I saw the judge this morning, and I’ve gotten Jim released on bail. His doctor says we can take him home tomorrow morning.”
“That is good news, Harvey.”
“There’s more. He signed the sales documents and the stock certificates just a moment ago.”
“That’s great news, Harvey; messenger them to me at the Calder house, and I’ll get the funds wired”—he looked at his watch—“just as soon as I receive them.”
“I’ll bring them myself,” Stein said. “Is now a good time?”
“It is,” Stone said.
“I’ll be there in half an hour.”
They hung up. “Long has signed,” Stone said, “and he got bail.” “Congratulations,” Dino said.
“Harvey Stein is bringing over the completed documents. Then I’ll call Bill Eggers and get the money wired.”
Lunch arrived, and they had just finished eating when Manolo escorted Harvey Stein out to the patio. Stone shook his hand and introduced Dino.
“Here you are,” Harvey said, handing him the documents. “Take a look and see if they’re properly execu
ted.”
Stone went through the papers. “Perfect,” he said. “Just a moment.” He called Eggers and told him to wire the funds to Long’s account, then hung up. “Long’s account will have the funds within the hour,” he said to Stein.
“What do you think Terry Prince’s reaction will be when he hears?” Stein asked.
“Well, if our experience holds, he’s already heard about it, and we’re both still alive. Now that we own the shares, he has no reason for another attempt on Jim’s life, unless he just enjoys revenge.”
“I’m not taking any chances,” Harvey said. “I’ve doubled the security at Jim’s house.”
“Good move,” Stone said. His cell phone went off, and he checked it. “That’s Terry Prince,” he said.
“What are you going to say to him?” Stein asked.
“I’m not going to say anything to him,” Stone said, putting away his cell phone.
38
Stone stretched out on his bed after lunch and switched on the TV for something to lull him to sleep. The first image he saw was a car in flames, but what really caught his attention was the glass and steel house in the background.
A voiceover came on. “Early this morning the Malibu Fire Department answered a call to the beach home of film producer Jack Schmeltzer, whose new film, Window Shade, opened last weekend to record grosses.” A two-shot followed: a reporter and a fireman.
“Somebody apparently soaked a rag in gasoline, stuffed it into the fuel cap, and basically turned the car into a giant Molotov cocktail,” the fireman said. “It’s a pity; it was a classic 1950s Mercedes convertible.”
“Mr. Schmeltzer was unavailable for comment,” the reporter said.
Stone rewound the DVR to the beginning of the report and called Dino. “Come in here; there’s something I want you to see.”
Dino came into the room and took a chair. “Shoot.” He watched the news report, an expression of disbelief on his face. “It’s Prince at work,” he said. “At least he didn’t kill anybody this time. How is this going to affect your share count?”
“I don’t know,” Stone replied. “I guess it hinges on how scared Jack Schmeltzer is. I hope he’s just mad.”
“I would be,” Dino said.
“So would I, but I don’t know Schmeltzer.”
