“They might, if they can count,” she said.
Stone thought about that. “I think we might have that covered with the change of birth certificate.” He thought some more. “Is Prunella Wheaton a friend of yours, too?”
Arrington shook her head. “No. I met her once, when I was lunching with a group of women in L.A. She and Vance had an affair when they were very young, long before I knew him.”
“And Wheaton didn’t say where she heard all this?”
“No, she said it was just a rumor.”
“Did you get the impression that it was somebody at the Post? Because that’s where Wheaton’s column runs in New York.”
“She didn’t say.”
“Apart from sharing this rumor, did Wheaton ask you any questions?”
“Just girl stuff. She congratulated me on the marriage and asked how Peter is.”
“What did you tell her about Peter?”
“She asked where he was in school, but I dodged that one.”
“What else?”
“She asked where I’m living, and I said in New York, then I made an excuse and got off the phone.”
“I think that was a good idea,” Stone said. “I think this rumor may be a fiction and that Wheaton is the one who’s interested. Why would a gossip columnist warn you that another gossip columnist is interested in you? This doesn’t pass the smell test.”
“What should we do?” Arrington asked.
“Let me make a couple of calls,” Stone said, “then we’ll make a plan.”
“What sort of plan?”
“I don’t know yet, but we don’t want to be caught off guard if she calls again, or if someone else does.”
“I see.”
“Did you confirm where and when the wedding took place and that the mayor performed the ceremony?”
“No, but I didn’t deny it, either.”
“For somebody like Wheaton, the lack of a denial is as good as a confirmation. You go upstairs and lie down, and don’t answer the phone for a while. Let Joan deal with it.”
Arrington stood up, and they hugged. “Thank you for being so calm,” she said. She got into the elevator and went upstairs.
Stone called Bill Eggers. “Do you know Prunella Wheaton?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Eggers said. “I’ve been at a couple of dinner parties where she happened to be, but I’ve always tried to bore her rigid when she tried to talk to me. Sometimes being boring is the best defense with somebody like that.”
“Wheaton has caught wind of our wedding and its circumstances. Apparently, she’s afraid to mention Eduardo, but we might see the mayor’s presiding in print.”
“He won’t like that,” Eggers said. “Rupert Murdoch will get an earful.”
“Wheaton knew Vance Calder, and she met Arrington once. She was digging for information about us and Peter. I figure we’re covered on the birth certificate, but I’d like for you or someone to call Peter’s old school and warn them about giving out any information about him, especially his age.”
“I see where you’re going,” Eggers said. “I’ll take care of it, and I’ll talk to the attorney in Virginia who’s handling the name change.”
“Good, Bill, I appreciate that.”
“Do you want me to have someone call Wheaton?”
“No, don’t do that; it will just pique her interest.”
“Right.”
Stone hung up and called Joan in. “Arrington got a call from Prunella Wheaton today,” he said.
“That old bat? What did she want?”
“She said she’d heard a rumor that someone is prying into our lives, but I think that she’s the one doing the prying.”
“If she calls back, I’ll squash her like a bug,” Joan said.
“No, don’t do that. Put on your sweet act.”
“What sweet act?”
“The one you use when you want something from somebody you hate.”
“But I don’t want anything from her; it’s the other way around.”
“Exactly.”
“Oh.”
“Arrington is always out shopping or at a meeting or taking a nap, or something. Always take her number, but we won’t call back. Be careful about giving her any information at all.”
“I won’t give her the time of day.”
“But be sweet about it.”
“Butter won’t melt in my mouth.” Joan went back to her office.
Stone went upstairs to check on Arrington, who was stretched out on the bed but awake. “When Peter was born was there a birth announcement?”
She shook her head. “No, Vance told the publicity department at Centurion that he wanted no mention of it in the press.”
“How about the columns? Did any of them print anything?”
“No, nothing at all. I spent much of my pregnancy in bed-doctors’ orders-so I wasn’t seen around town with a belly.”
“Good,” Stone said. He had a feeling that they were now going to learn how good a job they had done with Peter’s name and age change.
31
T he following afternoon Stone attended the meeting between Hank Hightower and his people and Eggers’s department heads at Woodman amp; Weld. He drank a double espresso after lunch, which kept him from dozing off and having his head strike the conference table at an inopportune moment. Too many facts about the insurance business traveled into one ear and out the other, without stopping in his brain. Once or twice he was called on to nod sagely or speak an encouraging word, and at the end of the meeting, when everyone stood and shook hands and walked to the elevators together, he was of the impression that the meeting had gone very well and that a new and important client was in the offing.
“I thought that went very well,” Eggers said, as Stone walked with him back to his office, “and that we may have a new and important client in the offing.”
“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” Stone replied. “I was very impressed with how you made it possible for me to attend the entire meeting without having to voice an opinion or make any other substantive contribution.”
“And that double espresso kept you bright-eyed,” Eggers remarked. “I must pour that stuff into all our people before after-lunch meetings.”
“Cocaine might work, too,” Stone suggested.
“Well, we wouldn’t want anyone to giggle or break into song, would we?”
“You have a point.”
“I want to congratulate you, Stone,” Eggers said. “In the space of a year you have brought three large and profitable clients into the fold. That’s an impressive achievement, even if you did have to marry one of them.”
“I regret that I have but one bachelorhood to give for my firm,” Stone replied.
“I’ve spoken to the attorney in Virginia, who has already accomplished the name change in that state. The petition was advertised in a weekly publication aimed at tobacco farmers, so it is unlikely to be noticed by gossip rakers. Our partner here, who is a board member of Peter’s old school, has had a discreet word with the headmaster. No information of any kind about Peter will be conveyed to anyone outside the school, which, in any case, is their longtime policy on privacy for students.”
“Thank you, Bill. By the way, Peter got a letter from Yale after he left for school this morning.”
“Good news?”
“Joan tried to get me to let her steam it open, but I resisted. I think, whatever information it contains, it would be best if Peter were the first to read it.”
“Well, let me know,” Eggers said. “I think I’m more nervous about this than you are.”
“Peter feels that both he and Ben Bacchetti are very well qualified to be accepted at Yale, and that the interview, should they be invited for one, will be the crucial test.”
“How did they do on the SATs?” Eggers asked.
“Ben did extremely well in all three categories, coming out with a combined score of 2140 out of 2400.”
“And Peter?”
“He aced the thing.”
“A 2400?”
“That’s right. They both did lots of activities in prep school as well, including working for charities, which is looked upon with favor these days. Ben was the editor for his school paper and wrote a column, and Peter has a nearly complete film to show.”