“I was wrong, apparently. Dino is sending a car to pick up Peter at school.”
“That’s good.”
Stone picked up the phone and called Mike Freeman at Strategic Services.
“Hi, Stone, how are you?”
“A little worried, Mike,” Stone said.
“What’s wrong?”
Stone explained. “I think I’d like someone armed to be with Peter for a few days.”
“Certainly. Do you want him picked up at school?”
“Dino’s sending a police car for him. Could you have someone here tomorrow morning at seven-thirty to drive him to school? He can use my car.”
“Of course. There’ll be two men, and they’ll be our best.”
“Thank you, Mike.”
“Did Sean Patrick call you about Arrington’s G-III?”
“Yes, he did. We sent him copies of everything we had on the airplane, and he’s sending someone down to Virginia to look at it and interview the crew.”
“That would be Milt Kaplan. I recommended him, and he’ll see the worth of the airplane immediately. If Sean turns out not to want it, we could lease it from you until it sells.”
“That’s a nice thought, but as a board member, I wouldn’t want you to spend all that money when you already have two airplanes.”
Mike laughed. “All right, I’ll take your advice.” They chatted for a moment, then said good-bye.
Joan buzzed him. “Peter’s on line two,” she said.
“Peter?”
“Yes, Dad. I got your message. There’s a police car outside right now.”
“Good. Get in it and come home.”
“Can I drop Hattie off on the way?”
“Sure, that’s fine.”
“I’ll be home in half an hour or so.”
Stone hung up feeling relieved.
61
A t half past four Peter came into Stone’s office, shucking off his coat. “Anything new about Rutledge?”
“No,” Stone replied. “Don’t be too worried about this.”
“Dad, if you’re not too worried, what am I doing traveling in a police car? I’ll never hear the end of this at school.”
“Well, from tomorrow, you’ll be traveling in the Bentley, and you’ll get still more guff about that, I’m sure. Two of Mike Freeman’s men will be riding with you. And yes, you can pick up Hattie on the way to school and take her home after that.”
“Thanks, Dad. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
Stone walked over to the leather sofa and sat down. “Take a pew and tell me about it.”
Peter fished in his bag and came up with a bundle of DVDs, secured with a rubber band. “My movie is finished; the titles and Hattie’s score are in. It’s called Autumn Kill.”
“Intriguing title,” Stone said.
“That’s what I was going for. I’ve thought about this a lot, and I don’t want to wait a year or two to try and get it released. I want to do it now.”
Stone shook his head. “Peter, I’ve already explained why I think you should wait.”
“I know, and I’ve considered your points very carefully. The thing is, I’ll be at Yale by the time the film is in theaters, and that will give me some insulation. Also, I can just decline to talk about it. I’m concerned that if I wait, some other similar film might come along that could lessen its chances for success.”
“You mean with a similar plot?”
“I mean something as simple as another film that takes place at a prep school. I have something original, and I don’t want to have it look like a copycat because some other filmmaker does something that looks like it.”
Stone thought about it and thought that, chances were, Peter was as right as he. “All right, but I think you have to offer it to Centurion first.”
“That makes perfect sense to me.”
Stone thought a little more. “You’re going to need an agent to represent you in this. Since I’m on the Centurion board, I have a conflict of interest.”
“All right, but how do I find an agent?”
Stone picked up the phone on the coffee table. “Joan, please get me Morton Janklow.”
“Who’s Morton Janklow?” Peter asked.
“The best agent I know.”
There was a click on the line. “Stone, how are you?”
“Very well, Mort.”
“I was very sorry to hear of Arrington’s death.”
“Thank you.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I have a new client for you, if you want him.”
“Who would that be?”
“His name is Peter Barrington; he’s my son.”
“Hang on, did you say ‘son’?”
“I’ll explain that part on another occasion,” Stone said. “Let me explain what he needs, and you can tell me if you’re interested.”
“All right, go ahead.”
“Peter is in his last year of prep school, and he’s been accepted at the Yale School of Drama, where he plans to study directing. He’s made a film called Autumn Kill and I’m going to messenger it over to you right now.”
“Okay. What’s it about?”
“It’s better if you see it cold, I think. If, after ten minutes, you can switch it off, I’ll be very surprised. Leo Goldman at Centurion saw an incomplete version and immediately wanted to buy it.”
“Is Centurion who you want to sell it to?”
“I think we owe them the first refusal. I’m on their board, so I don’t want to deal directly with Leo.”
“Do you have any idea what you want for the film?”
“I’ll tell you what I think would be ideaclass="underline" We sell the rights to the film for a limited period and take some cash, plus a percentage of the gross.”
“A limited rights deal is not what a studio wants,” Janklow said.
“I understand, but let’s start there.”
“I’ll be at home tonight, so I’ll watch the film and call you in the morning.”
“Thanks, Mort. It’s on its way.”
Both men hung up, and Stone buzzed Joan. “I want to messenger something to Janklow amp; Nesbit, a rush.” She came in and he gave her two discs.
“You’re sure Mr. Janklow is better than someone on the coast?” Peter asked.
“He has a deal with Creative Artists Agency. If he feels they can help, he’ll go through them, but I thought I’d leave that up to him.”
“Okay,” Peter said. “Now I’m starting to get nervous.”
“Don’t be. You already know that Leo wants your film. The rest is haggling.”
Peter laughed. “Oh, something I forgot. If the film is released, I think we’ll have to come to some arrangement with the various unions and pay the actors and others at least union scale. I paid each actor a hundred dollars and got a release from everybody.”
“Smart move,” Stone said. “The studio will know how to handle that.”
Peter stood up. “I’ve got some reading to do,” he said. “I’ll see you at supper.”
At half past five Joan buzzed him. “Mr. Janklow on one.”
“Hello, Mort?”
“Stone, I’ve watched the first twenty minutes of the film, and I’m rapt. And, guess who just called me about another matter? Leo Goldman. I mentioned that I have a new client, and when he heard who, Leo went quietly nuts.”
Stone laughed.
“I’m overnighting the DVD to him, but he’s already made an offer, which I did not accept.”
“What’s the offer?”
“Ten million dollars for all the rights, plus five percent of the gross. Don’t worry, when he sees what I’m seeing, with titles and a score, we’ll do better.”
“What did he say about a limited license?”
“Exactly what I thought he’d say, but wait until tomorrow. I’ll hear from him by noon his time, maybe sooner, if he’s really excited.”
“When you talk to him again, tell him he has to make the various unions happy about the release, at his expense, and he has to pay Hattie Patrick, who wrote the score.”
“Good point.”
“Thank you, Mort. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”
“How old is your boy?”
“Eighteen.”
“I want to meet him.”
“Of course; we’ll arrange that.”
“He must be very smart, if he got into Yale.”
“You have no idea,” Stone said.