Bel-Air Dead

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.