The following morning Stone sat down with Marcel, at the latter’s request. “We must make a decision, you and I,” Marcel said, “about the ownership of Curtis Hall.”
“How do you mean?” Stone asked.
“I suggest to you that we might enjoy owning the Curtis property, just the two of us. After all, we are the major investors in the Arrington Group of hotels. We could make it a pet project.”
“That is an attractive idea,” Stone said, “but I suggest that we form a corporation to own Curtis House, and that you and I own thirty percent each of the shares, and that the remaining forty percent be owned by the Arrington Group, then add a provision that, if the group decides to sell or close the house, you and I will have an opportunity to buy it at a fixed price. That will give us the full support services of the Group, while retaining control of the hotel, but it will also reduce our cash input, something that would make me more comfortable.”
“I like your suggestion,” Marcel replied. “It achieves all our goals with less money.”
“I’ll call Woodman & Weld in London and have them write the sales agreement.”
“And I will call our bankers and have them produce a bank check for the deposit on the property. You and I should now arrange to move fifteen million pounds each into the Arrington Group’s account, to cover the purchase and the renovation.”
“Agreed,” Stone said, and they each made the necessary phone calls to instruct their bankers. Later in the day the contract was faxed for Stone’s approval, and a messenger arrived with the bank check. Stone and Marcel went to Curtis House for drinks, first signing the sales contract with Lady Curtis and handing over the check for the deposit. They finished a little drunk but all very happy.
The electrician began work on the rewiring of the new offices at Windward Hall, following plans specced by Susan overnight, and the following day a team of four painters arrived and began their work. The day after they finished, basic office furniture and computers arrived and were installed, and Peter and Ben’s office manager arrived from Los Angeles to set up the computers and their software, then living in a Windward Hall guest room.
It was two days after the contract signing that the first black SUV, a Mercedes, was seen near the front gates of Windward Hall. Stone called Deputy Chief Inspector Holmes and related the events of the past couple of weeks.
Holmes listened, then spoke: “Has this vehicle trespassed on the property of either Windward Hall or Curtis House?” he asked.
“Not yet,” Stone replied.
“Do you have evidence that the occupants of the vehicle possess firearms or have the intention of harming anyone on either estate?”
“No.”
“Then I have no cause that would support an arrest. I will, however, cause police cars to drive past the properties twice a day on their regular rounds, and, perhaps, speak to the occupants of the vehicle in a polite fashion, just to let them know we are aware of their presence.”
“I think that is a sensible way to proceed,” Stone said, “and I thank you for your assistance.”
By the beginning of the following week, Peter, Ben, and their staff of one were in their new offices, and Stone took possession of a small room there, and Susan Blackburn, who was now operating her business from Windward Hall, possessed three rooms. Suitcases of her clothes arrived and were unpacked in the woman’s dressing room in the master suite.
Stone had established communications from the house with Woodman & Weld and his major clients. Those phoning the New York office could be connected directly from the firm’s switchboard to either Stone’s new office or his cell phone, avoiding transatlantic call charges for the callers.
Viv Bacchetti, who had been living quietly, reading a lot, but joining the others for lunch and dinner each day, announced that Strategic Services would require her presence in New York in another week, and that Dino had found a European Union conference on terrorism in Southampton that would require his presence in England for a few days. As part of her work, she conducted a security survey of Curtis House and made recommendations for the installation of equipment and the assignment of personnel to guard the place during the renovation. A Strategic Services aircraft dropped Dino off on the Windward airfield, jet-lagged and a little crabby. The gang received him in the library for cocktails on his first day, and his mood improved exponentially with each Scotch.
Viv gave Dino a tour of the house, and he was much impressed. “I am surprised,” he said to Stone, “how much at home here you seem already. The place seems to suit you.”
“Suit me it does,” Stone said.
“I understand Dr. Don is in the country. Have you had him to tea yet?”
“Not yet, nor for the foreseeable future. He does have one of his black SUVs stationed near our main gate, though, so he hasn’t forgotten about us.”
“Peter, Ben,” Dino said, “tell us how Hell’s Bells is doing in the States.”
“We took in seventy million dollars in sales the first week,” Ben replied, “and half again the second week, with eight hundred more screens showing the film. That figure held for the third week, so we have a major hit on our hands. We have a proper London premiere next week at a Leicester Square movie palace. Our stars are coming, and Centurion Studios has taken suites at the Savoy to house them and for interview purposes. We have a premiere in Paris the following weekend.”
“I hope you’ll stay in the Paris house when you’re there,” Stone said. “Maybe you’ll think of a story that can be shot in Paris.”
“What a good idea,” Peter said.
Elsie came into the library and bent close to Stone’s ear. “There’s a phone call for you, Mr. Barrington,” she said, “from a person called” — she referred to a note in her hand — “Dr. Don Beverly Calhoun.”