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“Thank you, I’d like that.”

They finished breakfast, and Stone walked her to the Bentley. Manolo would drive her, accompanied by two unmarked security cars. “Have a good flight,” he said.

“I’m sure I will,” she replied. “I’m looking forward to it.” She kissed him, got into the Bentley, and was driven away.

Stone was back at the table when Mike Freeman called.

“Hello?”

“Hi, did she get away?”

“She just left.”

“I’m on my way to Burbank; I’ll fly to Virginia with Arrington, and have our CJ4 meet me there and take me to New York. I had my aviation department check out the hangar situation at Charlottesville,” he said.

“I was going to do that myself,” Stone replied.

“There’s a nice corporate hangar available-office, crew quarters, etc. They want half a million.”

“I’ll recommend it to her,” Stone said.

“I’ll call the crew and tell them to take the airplane there when they land. I’ll do the deal, if you like, subject to Arrington’s approval, and your people can send the check.”

“Go ahead.” Stone hung up, and Mike called back in ten minutes.

“I got it for four-fifty,” he said. “I told them to send the paperwork to Bill Eggers. I’ll show it to her when we land and get her approval.”

“You make life so easy, Mike.”

“It’s what I do. Talk to you later.” He hung up.

Stone called Arrington in the car and explained the deal to her.

“I approve,” she said.

“Just what I always like to hear a client say. Call me when you’ve actually seen it. Mike’s going to fly to Virginia with you and show you the hangar when you land. Let me know what you think.”

“Will do.”

Stone went back to the remains of his breakfast.

“So,” Dino said, “what’s next?”

“I think it’s time to take the game to Prince,” Stone said. “I’m tired of playing catch-up.”

32

Stone called Carolyn Blaine. “Are you available for lunch?”

“I don’t think we should be seen in public,” she said.

“Then come here.”

“One o’clock? I want to be sure Terry has left the office before I do.”

“That will be fine.”

Stone hung up.

“What do you want with that dame?” Dino asked.

“To get to Terry Prince; she’ll know how best to do it.”

Stone received Carolyn by the pool, and Manolo offered them a lobster salad for lunch.

“I hear Jim Long is in and out of consciousness,” she said. “What do you hear?”

“I haven’t heard,” Stone replied. “I’ll hear when there’s a change.”

“What did you think of your lunch with Terry?” she asked.

“He confirmed all my worst suspicions about him.”

“Which are?”

“Do I have to tell you?”

“I’m reluctant to say anything to you that might be quoted later.”

“Am I the only attorney from whom you’ve sought advice?”

“Yes, you are, but I’m very nervous. If your worst suspicions of Terry are valid, then it’s very dangerous for me to talk to you, let alone see you.”

“I trust you’ve erased me from your cell phone.”

“I have,” she said, “and I’d appreciate it if you’d do the same with your phone.”

“Are you worried that Terry might somehow gain access to my phone?”

“You never know,” she said, digging into her salad.

Stone poured them a glass of Sauvignon blanc. “Let me ask your advice,” he said. “Suppose you were in opposition to Terry; how would you vex him?”

“Vex him? That’s rather an archaic form, isn’t it?”

“How would you get under his skin? Upset him?”

“I’d outbid him for something he wanted.”

“That’s too expensive a way to vex him.”

“Then I’d find something else he wanted.”

Stone smiled. “That’s a nice thought.”

“Do you have something in mind?”

“Maybe it’s time to let him know what you know about this property.”

“All I know is that there’s some acreage.”

“There are eighteen acres,” Stone replied. “Arrington recently took up her option on two adjoining plots.”

“Eighteen of the most expensive residential acres in the United States? That might interest Terry,” she said, “but I don’t think he would enjoy subdividing it and selling the lots.”

“How about living in this house? Or building his own?”

“He’s well-stocked with houses,” Carolyn said. “He has five, scattered here and there, and two of them are in Beverly Hills and Malibu.”

“How about creating his own Bel-Air hotel on the property of America’s all-time biggest movie star?”

She put down her fork. “Now that would turn his head.”

“Would it turn his head away from the Centurion deal?”

“He can afford to do both.”

“But he can’t do both,” Stone said. “If he wants this property, he’d have to end his attempted takeover of Centurion and agree never to try again.”

Carolyn took a sip of her wine and looked thoughtful. “I think you’ve got it,” she said. “The one thing in Los Angeles, maybe in the world, that he would most like to have. He was very, very upset when his offer for the Bel-Air Hotel was rejected.”

“I suppose I could call and offer him the property,” Stone said, “but it might work better if you somehow learned of its availability-not through me-and let him know. I’m sure you could collect a very nice commission on that sale, especially since it wouldn’t involve a broker.”

Carolyn had stopped eating and drinking; she was just staring into the middle distance. “My God!” she said finally. “How would I have learned about it, except through you?”

“Arrington took up the option on the adjoining acreage just a few days ago,” Stone said. “Transactions of that sort are part of the public record, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they are,” Carolyn said. “And I have a contact in that city office who could very well have let me know about this one.”

“Well,” Stone said. “There you are.”

Carolyn stood up, dropping her napkin on the patio. “I have to go,” she said, then practically ran from the house.

“I think that worked,” Stone said aloud to himself.

33

Dino returned to the house late in the afternoon. “I’ve got news,” he said.

“Tell me,” Stone replied.

“Terry Prince’s guy at Parker Center? The one who probably set up Jim Long’s shanking?”

“I remember.”

“He’s disappeared.”

“What a shock!” Stone replied, laughing. “What’s your best guess: was he paid off and sent away or does he now reside in the La Brea Tar Pits?”

“My friend Rivera would like to know,” Dino said.

“My money’s on La Brea, or some other equally suitable resting place.”

Manolo paged Stone on the house phone, and he picked it up. “Yes?”

“Mrs. Calder is on line one for you,” Manolo said.

Stone punched the button. “Hello, there; safe and sound in Charlottesville, I hope.”

“Safe and sound at home,” she replied.

“How was your flight?”

“Absolutely wonderful! And Mike Freeman was very good company. His company airplane met him in Charlottesville and flew him to New York, but not before he showed me my new hangar. It’s wonderful! I could almost live there myself.”

“I’ll get New York to wire the funds, then,” Stone said.

“The crew are living there, until we can find something more permanent for them in town.”

“When’s your auction?”

“Tomorrow morning. The auctioneers have been working here the whole time I’ve been away. It’s very odd to have a tag on every object in your house.”

“When do you move out?”

“Tomorrow morning, early. They’re packing my things now. I’ve taken a very nice furnished house down the road for eighteen months. Phone numbers will be the same.”

“How much do you hope to raise in the auction?”

“As much as I spent, I fervently hope!”

“Good luck with that.”