Scandalous Behavior

26

They spent a good two hours covering the whole of the Curtis estate, which was indeed larger than Stone’s property, and then they rode along the Beaulieu River toward the dock of Windward Hall. Stone’s cell phone vibrated.

“Hello?”

“It’s Felicity.”

“I know what you’re going to tell me.”

“Okay, what?”

“That Dr. Don Beverly Calhoun somehow got into the country.”

“How could you know that?”

“Because I just saw him leaving Curtis Hall.”

“He flew private, into Biggin Hill.”

“I figured.”

“We didn’t cover private airfields; there are too many.”

“I figured. Why don’t you get your friend the Home Secretary to throw him out of the country?”

“Oh, no, it’s easy to block someone from entering, and that way, you deny him the media, but arresting and deporting him is much more complicated and could even be appealed, and we’d have the papers and TV all over us.”

“I see your point.”

“Did you actually see Calhoun and Glynnis together?”

“I saw her saying goodbye to him and three others, then they got into a limo and passed within a few yards of us.”

“Did they look as though they had concluded a deal?”

“Oh, come on, Felicity, what sort of look is that?”

“Oh, all right, I’ll call her. Goodbye.”

Stone hung up. “The river runs down to the Solent,” he said to Peter. “Very convenient for boating.”

“Are you going to get a boat?”

“I don’t have a crew — maybe a powerboat.”

“Another Hinckley?”

“That’s a good thought — it could be shipped to Southampton. I’m not really in the mood to research British boats. I’d know what I’m getting with a Hinckley.”

“Good. The next time we visit, I’ll expect a Hinckley ride.”

“It sounds to me as though you’re going to be spending the rest of the year here, and why not? You can finish your script, do a deal with a British production house for a crew and equipment, and get your casting done. What sort of schedule are you thinking about?”

“I’ll have to work it up. We’ll need to finish the script, do production drawings, and run it by the studio. Then preproduction and a few weeks of shooting. We’d want to do postproduction at home, since we have all the equipment in our offices. I think we could be ready for release in December, in time for Academy Awards qualification and screenings.”

“Sounds like you’ve given it a lot of thought.”

“I’ve hardly thought about anything else. It would be a new experience, having a film go from inspiration to completion so quickly.”

“Maybe I’ll figure out a way to get my New York work done over here. I’d love to watch your film happen. I’d promise not to get in the way.”

“Nonsense, you’ve been nothing but helpful. This film wouldn’t have happened but for you.”

“You sound as if it’s already made.”

They were back at Windward Hall in time for tea in the library, which turned out to be more of a production meeting, as Peter brought Ben and Billy up to date on what he’d seen and planned.

Felicity called again. “It’s all right, Glynnis hasn’t accepted the Calhoun offer yet.”

“Swell.”

“You don’t sound pleased.”

“It’s nothing to do with me.”

“So you’re looking forward to having Dr. Don and his tribe as neighbors?”

“You have a point.”

“You’d better get interested.”

“I’ll think about it, I promise.”

“That’s all I ask.”

“The hell it is. You won’t be happy until I’ve written another enormous check.”

“You know me so well.” She hung up.

The following day Stone was about to sit down for lunch when Susan Blackburn called. “Are you sitting down?”

“Oh, God.”

“My hotelier prospective client has not the slightest interest in having a country hotel in his portfolio of properties.”

“He sounds like me.”

“All too much. In thinking about this, though, it occurred to me that we both know another hotelier.”

“And who would that be?”

“You.”

“Me, a hotelier?”

“You’re building your third in Rome right now.”

“That’s Marcel. I’m just a kibitzer.”

“Well, kibitz your way into getting Marcel aboard.”

Stone thought about that.

“I take your silence as consideration.”

“Oh, all right, I’ll call him.”

“I’d like to hear the result of that conversation quite soon.”

“I’ll call him now.” Stone said goodbye, then dialed Marcel duBois’s number in Rome.

“Pronto.”

“You sound very Italian.”

“Stone! How are you?”

“Very well, thank you. I’m in England, where I’ve bought a country place.”

“Word has reached me. Is it beautiful?”

“Very. Have you ever thought of having a country Arrington?”

“Oh, yes, I’ve looked in France, but I haven’t found the right place.”

“I believe I may have found the right place in England, and right next door to me.” He told Marcel about Curtis House.

“That sounds very interesting.”

“There’s a landing field on my property. Why don’t you hop over here tomorrow and see the place?”

“Tomorrow? I can do that.”

“And stay the night with me — longer, if you can.”

“One night, perhaps.”

Stone gave him the landing particulars. “I’ll see you tomorrow, around ten AM, then.”

“I look forward.”