Scandalous Behavior

34

After Susan had driven away, Stan brought the Land Rover around for Marcel.

“You’re leaving so soon?” Stone asked.

“Yes, my airplane is on the way to your field. I must run to Paris, then Rome for a few days, to keep our kettles boiling there, then I’ll be back.”

“You’ll be very welcome,” Stone said.

“I’ve left a few things in my room,” Marcel said, “including some laundry.”

“I’ll see that it’s taken care of.”

Marcel got into the car and was driven away.

Stone and Dino walked over to the stables, where horses had been saddled for them.

“You should keep some riding clothes here,” Stone said.

“What riding clothes? I don’t own any.”

“There’s a shop in Beaulieu that will fix you up.”

They mounted, then rode across the meadow, through the wood, then jumped the stone wall onto the Curtis House property. There were two large moving vans parked in front of the house, and furniture was being loaded on them.

“They’re going to London, to Susan’s workshop, for reupholstering,” Stone explained.

“Susan is quite a girl,” Dino said. “Why don’t you hang on to her?”

“I’d like that, but I don’t know if she’s going to have time for me. She’s expanding her company while redoing Curtis House, and she’s got her hands full.”

“She doesn’t work nights, does she?”

“That’s what’s keeping us going.”

They rode slowly around the property, seeing things they hadn’t noticed before.

“I saw the hermit’s house,” Dino said. “I’ll bet the brigadier was an interesting guy.”

“I never met him, and saw him on the property only twice.”

“You remember when we were young, back at the Nineteenth, and got our first big homicide?”

“How could I forget?”

“Remember the lesbian lady who offed herself in the bathtub?”

“I do.”

“And we thought for a while she had done it out of guilt, but it turned out she wasn’t the murderer?”

“I do.”

“Ever since, I’ve always been suspicious when suicides confess.”

“As I recall, she didn’t confess.”

“Right, but we assumed she was guilty, anyway.”

“I see your point. Are you suspicious of the brigadier’s confession?”

“Sometimes there are motives for suicide other than guilt,” Dino said. “I don’t know enough about this one to form an opinion, but I think you ought to keep that in mind.”

“Why? I’m not investigating it. I accept his confession as sincere.”

“Maybe you ought to know more about the case,” Dino said, then spurred his horse into a gallop and jumped another stone wall.

Stone followed him and concentrated on the wall, putting everything else out of his mind.

Dr. Don was enjoying his first breakfast back in New York, and his wife, Cheree, seemed to be, as well. “How are you feeling?” he asked her.

“Well, I hadn’t expected to be back in New York this soon. I thought we were going to buy that house and operate over there for a while.”

“Well, yes...”

“After all, it’s gotten a little hot on this side of the Atlantic, hasn’t it? I mean, that magazine piece we heard about is going to come out sooner or later. What was it, New York?”

“The New Yorker.”

“You should never have given that woman the interview.”

“Oh, I don’t know, at least I got my side of the story told.”

“You just wanted to screw her,” Cheree said with a snort. “Did you, by the way?”

“I did not, she was not my type.”

“Oh, Don, your type is anything with a pussy.”

He laughed. “I’ve been accused of that.”

“I thought I was keeping you satisfied.”

“Oh, you are, my sweet,” he said, patting her on the knee. He finished his coffee just as the doorbell rang, and he went to answer it. He opened the door to find the New Yorker writer, Lisa Altman, standing there.

“Good morning,” she said brightly.

“How did you get past the doorman?” he asked.

“Oh, we’re old friends,” she said. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” he said, stepping back and admitting her.

“The New Yorker is gearing up to run my profile on you, and I wanted to ask a couple more questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.” He led her into the living room, with its spectacular view of Central Park, and sat her down facing the window. “Now,” he said, settling into a chair, “what can I tell you?”

“Tell me how you managed to get yourself declared persona non grata from Britain.”

Calhoun was stunned. “How on earth...?”

“Oh, you made the papers this morning. Haven’t you seen the Times?”

He had not. His secretary didn’t know they were back; she hadn’t restarted the papers. “No. What did they have to say?”

“Only that you, your wife, and half a dozen of your staff had been hauled into court, charged with trespassing and possession of illegal weapons, and fined and deported.”

“Oh, they’ve blown that all out of proportion. We had an argument over a real estate deal, and the fastest way to settle it was just to leave.”

“And not come back?” she asked, while taking notes on a pad.

“That’s just temporary.”

“What sort of real estate deal?”

“We were looking at a country house and some property. Somebody outbid us.”

“And that would be a Mr. Stone Barrington?”

Calhoun blinked. “Ah, yes, he owns an adjoining property.”

“And two of your people were arrested earlier in New York and Connecticut on weapons charges, weren’t they?”

“I’m afraid they hadn’t researched the local laws on the subject. They’re Westerners, you see, and unaccustomed to restrictions on Second Amendment rights.”

“So that’s twice you’ve had to exert your Second Amendment rights against Mr. Barrington? Is there some sort of animus between you?”

“Certainly not on my part,” Calhoun said, sounding wounded. “His son has made a defamatory film about me.”

“Oh, yes, Hell’s Bells. Nice title.”

“We’ll be filing a libel suit soon.”

“Libel is tough to prove. Are you sure you have enough evidence? Movie scripts are very well vetted by the studios before they’re put into production.”

“I don’t want to say too much at this point.” He looked at his watch. “Goodness, I have an appointment. You’re going to have to excuse me,” he said, rising. “Let me show you out.”

He got her out the door, then went back to the kitchen. “That New Yorker woman is back,” he said. “She says they’re running her profile soon.”

“Maybe we’d better go back to L.A.,” she said.

“Not just yet,” he replied. “I’ve some work to do here.” He picked up the phone and dialed a number.