L.A. Dead

Chapter 7

The telephone woke Stone. He checked the bedside clock: just after nine a.m. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Is this Stone Barrington?" Yes.

"This is Dr. James Judson, of the Judson Clinic."

"Good morning. How is Arrington?"

"She's been asking for you. I'm sorry the woman who answered the telephone last night didn't know that."

"When can I see her?"

"She's still sleeping at the moment, but why don't you come over here around noon? If she isn't awake by then, I'll wake her, and the two of you can talk."

"What is her condition?"

"Surprisingly good, but there are complications; we can talk about that when you arrive." He gave Stone the address.

"I'll see you at noon," Stone said. He hung up, then pressed the button for the concierge and ordered a rental car for eleven-thirty, then he called room service and ordered a large breakfast. While he was waiting for it to arrive, he called Centurion Studios and asked for Lou Regenstein, its chairman.

"Good morning, executive offices," a woman's voice said.

"Lou Regenstein, please; this is Stone Barrington."

"May I ask what this is about?"

"He'll know." Stone had met Regenstein the year before, when he was in Los Angeles on another matter involving Vance and Arrington.

A moment later, Regenstein was on the line. "Stone, I'm so glad to hear from you; you've heard what's happened, I'm sure."

"That's why I'm here; I got in last evening."

"I've been going nuts; the police won't tell me where Arrington is, and the coroner won't release Vance's body to a funeral home without her permission."

"Arrington is in a hospital; I'm going to see her at noon today."

"Is she all right? Was she hurt in the shooting?"

"She's fine, from all accounts. I'll be talking to her doctor, too."

"What can I do to help?"

"Lou, who is the best criminal lawyer in L.A.?"

"Marc Blumberg, hands down; does Arrington need him?"

"Yes, if only to contain the situation."

"He's a personal friend of mine; I'll call him right now. Where can he see Arrington?"

"I want to see her before she talks to another lawyer," Stone said. "Tell Blumberg to expect a call from me at some point, and to deny that he's representing Arrington, if the press should call in the meantime."

"All right." Regenstein gave him Blumberg's number. "Remember, Stone, Centurion is at Arrington's disposal-anything she needs; you, too. Look, I've had an idea: You're going to need some place to get things done while you're here. I'll make Vance's bungalow available to you for as long as you need it."

"Thank you, Lou; it would be good to have some office facilities."

"You remember Vance's secretary, Betty Southard?"

Indeed he did; Stone and Betty had spent considerable time together during his last visit to town, much of it in bed. "Of course."

"She's there, holding down the fort; I'll let her know you're coming, and I'll leave a pass for you at the main gate."

"Thank you, Lou, I'll be in touch later." Stone hung up and called his own office, in New York.

"Stone Barrington's office," Joan Robertson said.

"Hi, it's Stone."

"Oh, Stone, I'm so glad you called. Have you heard about Vance Calder?"

"Yes, I'm in L.A. now, at the Bel-Air Hotel."

"What's going on?"

"I haven't had time to find out, but I want you to go into our computer boilerplate, print out some documents and fax them to me soonest."

"What do you want?"

Stone dictated a list of the documents, then hung up. Breakfast arrived and he turned on the TV news while he ate. The local channels were going nuts; the biggest star in Hollywood had been murdered, and they couldn't find out anything. They were treading water as fast as they could, recycling what litde information they had. They couldn't find Arrington, the police wouldn't issue anything but the most basic statement, Centurion had no comment, except to express deep loss and regret, and no friend of either Vance's or Arrington's would talk to the press, even off the record, not that any of them knew anything. That was good, he thought.

The phone rang. "Hello?"

"Mr. Barrington?"

"Yes."

"This is Hillary Carter, Arrington's mother."

"How are you, Mrs. Carter?"

"Terrible, of course, but I'm glad you're here. Arrington badly needs someone to take charge of things."

"Have you seen her?"

"Only for a few minutes, yesterday, and she was semiconscious. She was asking for you, though."

"I'm seeing her at noon today."

"Oh, good. The doctor doesn't want her to see Peter, yet; I don't know why."

"I'll see if I can find out."

"I'm at Vance's house, now, and the situation here is nearly out of hand. I've had to call the police to keep people from climbing over the fence."

"I'll see if I can arrange some private security."

"That would be a very good idea, I think."

"Is Peter all right?"

"Yes, but he wants his mother and father, and I'm having to stall him. What I'd like to do is to get him out of this zoo and take him home to Virginia with me. Arrington is quite happy for him to come with me."

"That might be a good idea. Can I call you after I've seen Arrington?"

"Yes, please; I'll give you Vance's most secret number. The press hasn't learned about it, yet."

Stone wrote down the number.

"I'm so sorry we've never met face to face," Mrs. Carter said. "Arrington has always spoken so well of you."

"Mrs. Carter, do you have any objection to my taking over all of Arrington's legal decisions and contacts with… everyone outside the family?"

"I'd be very grateful if you would, but of course, I'd like to be consulted about any medical treatment beyond what she's getting now."

"Of course. I'll talk to you later today." He said good-bye and hung up. There was a knock on the door, and an envelope was slid under it. Stone checked the contents and found the documents Joan had faxed to him.

He telephoned Lou Regenstein.

"Yes, Stone?"

"I've just spoken with Arrington's mother, who is at Vance's house with her grandson. She says the press there is out of hand, and she's had to call the police. Can you arrange for some private security to take over that?"

"Of course; how many men do you want?"

"She says they're coming over the fence, and my recollection is that they've got a large piece of property there."

"Something like eight acres," Regenstein said.

"I should think half a dozen men inside the fence, two in the house and a car patroling the perimeter of the place, twenty-four hours a day, for the time being."

"Consider it done; anything else?"

"Mrs. Carter wants to take Peter back to Virginia with her. Do you think you could arrange transportation?"

"The Centurion jet is at her disposal," Regenstein said. "I'll have a crew standing by in an hour."

"I shouldn't think she'd need it until later today. Is it at Burbank?"

"Yes, but the press would know that. I'll have it moved to Santa Monica and hangared at the Supermarine terminal, until she's ready to leave."

"Thank you, Lou. I'll call you later."

There was nothing else to do, Stone reflected. Dino would be in the air, now, on his way back to New York. He checked his notebook, dialed the palazzo number in Venice and asked for Eduardo.

"Stone?"

"Yes, Eduardo?"

"This is Carmen Bellini. Eduardo and Dolce are on their way back to New York. I'm spending a couple of more days here to rest, at his suggestion. Are you in Los Angeles?"

"Yes." Stone told him most of what he knew so far. "If Eduardo contacts you before I reach him, please pass on that information."

"Certainly. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Pray for Arrington," Stone said.

He hung up, and it suddenly occured to him that, since he had left Venice, he had not thought of Dolce once.