L.A. Dead

Chapter 21

Stone explained his appearance, then he pointed at three large canvas bags on the floor near Betty's office door. "What are those?" he asked.

"Arrington's mail," she said.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"After Vance's death, his fans kept writing. I've got two girls in the back room sorting it now. Those are the bags we haven't gotten to yet."

"I don't believe it."

"Well, believe this: Right now, opinion is running about sixty-forty in favor of Arrington being a murderess."

" 'Murderess,' that has a quaint Victorian ring to it."

"I guess I'm just a quaint, Victorian girl," she replied.

Stone picked up his bags. "Where's the bedroom?" he asked. "Marc Blumberg wants me to move in here."

"Somewhere the Inquisitor can't find you?"

"I was just hugging her," he lied.

"Come on, I'll show you." She led the way down a hall and into a comfortably furnished bedroom with an adjacent bath and dressing room. "Want me to unpack for you?" she asked.

"Thanks, I can manage," he replied, laughing. "Go back to your mail; I want to get dressed." Betty left the room, and Stone got out of the swimsuit and into some clothes.

Betty appeared in the doorway. "Marc Blumberg's holding a press conference on TV." She switched on a set at the foot of the bed, and the two of them sat down to watch it as, on television, a secretary opened a set of double doors and the press poured into Blumberg's office, where he awaited them, seated behind an impressive desk.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," Blumberg said, remaining seated. "I have a brief statement for you regarding the investigation into the death of Vance Calder. Can we hold the flash cameras until I've finished, please?"

When everything had quieted down, Blumberg began. "I have been retained by Vance Calder's widow, Arrington, to represent her during the investigation of her husband's death, not because she has anything to fear from the investigation, but because she wants to be sure that the Los Angeles Police Department is leaving no stone unturned in the pursuit of her husband's murderer."

"What about the photograph in today's Inquisitor?" somebody asked.

"I'll get to that in a minute," Blumberg replied. "Now, if I may continue?" He stared the room into silence. "Good. This is what we know so far: Last Saturday night, Mr. and Mrs. Calder were getting ready to go to a dinner party at the home of Lou Regenstein, chairman of Centurion Pictures. Mr. Calder was dressing, and Mrs. Calder was in the bathtub. A servant heard a loud noise, and when he investigated, found Mr. Calder lying in the central hallway of the house, near death, having received a gunshot wound to the head. The servant summoned the police and an ambulance, then sent a maid to let Mrs. Calder know what had happened.

"When Mrs. Calder saw her husband, she collapsed and had to be treated for shock by the paramedics when they arrived. Her personal physician was summoned; he sedated her and arranged for her to be moved immediately to a private clinic, where she remained until yesterday. She asked for a family friend, a New York attorney, Mr. Stone Barrington, to come to Los Angeles to handle her affairs, and Mr. Bar-rington was summoned from Italy, where he was on vacation.

"When Mr. Barrington arrived, he spoke with Mrs. Calder's physician about her condition and learned that she was unable to remember anything that had happened between mid-afternoon last Friday and the time when she awoke in the clinic on Sunday morning. The moment Mrs. Calder was up to it, Mr. Barrington invited the police to interview her at the clinic, and yesterday, he picked her up there and took her to her Malibu home, where he hoped she might have some privacy to continue her recovery.

"Sadly, a tabloid photographer violated her privacy and photographed her with Mr. Barrington as she took the sun on a rear deck of the house. Mr. Barrington then left the house, giving her a hug before leaving, and that, ladies and gendemen, was the photograph that was so outrageously misrepresented in the tabloid's pages.

"I am sorry to tell you that, as of this moment, the LAPD is treating Mrs. Calder as a suspect, and that later in the week, she will be interviewed by the district attorneys office. In anticipation of that meeting I arranged yesterday for her to receive a thorough polygraph examination from Mr. Harold Beame, formerly with the FBI, who is a renowned examiner. I am pleased to tell you that Mr. Beame has reported that, in his expert opinion, Mrs. Calder answered truthfully every question put to her. I can tell you that they were very tough questions; I know, because I wrote them myself."

This got a laugh from the group.

"However, when we meet with the district attorney, I intend to volunteer Mrs. Calder for another polygraph, administered by a quali-fied examiner of his choosing. Further, at that meeting, Mrs. Calder will answer every question put to her by members of the district attorney's office.

"Finally, Mrs. Calder has authorized me to offer a reward of $100,000 for any information leading to the arrest and conviction of her husband's killer." He held up a placard with a telephone number on it. "We ask that anyone with such information call both the police and this number. We wouldn't want anything to get lost in the shuffle at the LAPD."

Another laugh.

"That's all I have to tell you, at the moment, and I won't be answering any questions today. However, you may rest assured that I will be in contact with the media when there is anything of significance to report."

With that, Blumberg got up and marched out of his office, ignoring the questions shouted by the crowd.

Betty switched off the set. "Well, I guess that puts the ball in the D.A.'s court, doesn't it?"

"I believe it does," Stone agreed. "That was a very impressive performance."

"Did you approve the reward?"

"No, but I would have, if asked. I think it's a good idea. It might turn up something and, at the very least, it will keep the police busy with leads from people who want the money."

A phone on the bedside table rang, and Betty answered it. "It's Marc Blumberg," she said, handing Stone the phone.

"Hi, Marc; I saw your press conference. Very good, and you have my approval on the reward money."

"I thought I would have," Blumberg answered. "I want to meet with Arrington this afternoon; where shall we do it?"

"How about three o'clock at her house? You know where it is?"

"Yes, and that's fine."

"There's a utility entrance at the rear of the property…"

"No,"Blumberg interupted, "I'll go in the front way; let the press see me."

"Whatever you think best."

"Just keep that phrase in mind, and we'll get along great, Stone. See you at three." He hung up.

The phone rang again immediately, and Betty answered it. "It's Arrington," she said, handing Stone the phone again.

"Hi."

"I just saw Marc Blumberg on TV; was that your idea?"

"No, it was his, but I wholeheartedly approve."

"I haven't seen this rag, but I take it the photographer I saw was responsible."

"Yes; that should give you some idea of how careful you have to be. Marc Blumberg is coming to the house at three this afternoon; be ready to meet him, and don't wear a bikini."

She laughed. "Touche. Will you be here?"

"Yes."

"See you then."

Stone hung up and turned to Betty. "Will you make some notes on the tenor of the mail you're receiving? I expect Blumberg will want to know about it."

"Sure; I'll go add it all up now." Betty left the room.

Stone finished dressing. For the first time, he was beginning to feel some optimism about the way things were going. Marc Blumberg was a considerable force, when aroused, and Stone was glad to have him on Arrington's side.