Стюарт Вудс - Cut and Thrust

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Stone Barrington has traveled to Los Angeles for the Democratic National Convention and finds that the political scene has been shaken up. First Lady Katherine Rule Lee is running for the party nomination, a loyal senator has died and left her seat vacant, and the Secret Service has received a credible threat toward Kate. It will take all of Stone’s discretion and powers of persuasion to help arrange things for a desirable outcome...

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“I’m very pleased to meet you,” Ed said. “I hear you’re up to your neck in Kate Lee’s campaign.”

“Over my head, half the time. Oh, Stone, I was right — the photograph of Marty Stanton and Charlene Joiner made the front page of the Post ! It’s also all over the West Coast papers.”

“Why hasn’t Stanton dropped out of the race?” Ed asked.

“We’re working on it,” Ann replied.

“I’d sure like to see Kate get the nomination,” Ed said. “I’ve already sent money. Stone, I hear you were in at the beginning, among the big twenty-one contributors.”

“Best money I ever spent,” Stone said, “if she gets elected.”

Ed looked around him. “This is certainly a beautiful place,” he said. “Why don’t you open an Arrington in Santa Fe?”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Stone said.

“A client of mine has a little ranch for sale near Tesuque, on the outskirts of the city, that would make a good site.”

“I’ll speak to the board about it,” Stone said. “We’re opening a hotel in Paris next year with a French partner, but we haven’t made another move in the States yet.”

“I’d be glad to work with you if you want to come to Santa Fe. Susannah and I would invest, too.”

“Let me talk to some people,” Stone said.

“I’ve never been to Santa Fe,” Ann said. “What’s it like?”

“God’s country,” Ed said. “Seven thousand feet up in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, beautiful climate, great restaurants and art galleries.”

“We can stop there on the way home, if you like,” Stone said.

“Only if we lose the nomination,” Ann said. “Then I’d need somewhere to lick my wounds. But if Kate wins, then I’m going to have more on my hands than I know what to do with.”

“That gives me a terrible conflict of interest,” Stone said.

The phone on the table buzzed, and Stone picked it up. “Yes?”

“Mr. Bill Eggers for you, Mr. Barrington,” Manolo said.

“Excuse me a minute while I take this,” Stone said. He picked up the phone and walked away from the table. “Hello, Bill?” Eggers was the managing partner of Stone’s law firm, Woodman & Weld.

“Hello, Stone,” Eggers said. “I know you’re having too much fun out there, so I scared up some work for you.”

“Gee, thanks, Bill, I’m just sitting here, having lunch with Ed Eagle, and you had to interrupt.”

“Tell Ed I said hello. This could be a good client,” Bill said. “A Britisher named Charles Grosvenor is making a move to Los Angeles and he wants a law firm to represent him. Word is, they’re part of the London Grosvenor family, which includes the Duke of Westminster.”

“You’ve got a dozen good lawyers in the L.A. office,” Stone said.

“Your name came up — apparently he’s heard of you from a friend.”

“What friend?”

“I don’t know, but I’d appreciate it if you’d meet with them. They’re staying down the road at the Bel-Air Hotel.”

“All right, I’ll call them this afternoon,” Stone said. “Maybe we can have a drink later in the day.”

“That’s good. Let me know what comes of your conversation.”

“I’ll do that.” Stone hung up and went back to the table.

“Bill Eggers says hello, Ed. He also says I’m having too much fun out here, so he’s found me some work.”

“It’ll be good for you,” Ed said.

“We’ll see.”

12

Stone called the Bel-Air and was connected to Grosvenor’s suite. A young woman with an upper-class English accent answered the phone.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Barrington,” she said. “Mr. Grosvenor is out at the moment, but he asked if you could meet him at the Bel-Air for a drink later today.”

“Of course.”

“Five o’clock, in the bar, then?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Mr. Grosvenor looks forward to meeting you.” She hung up.

The bar at the Bel-Air was virtually deserted when Stone arrived, wearing a necktie for the occasion, and he looked around, then selected one of two chairs by the fireplace, where a small blaze lit up that side of the room. A moment later, a tall, beautifully dressed, distinguished-looking man, fiftyish, entered the room, spotted him, and walked over.

“I expect you must be Mr. Barrington,” he said, smiling, “since you’re the only person here.”

Stone rose to greet him. “I am Stone Barrington,” he said.

Grosvenor took the other chair, and Stone waved at a waitress who was loitering by the bar, waiting for business to pick up. “What may I order for you?” Stone asked as the waitress arrived.

“A Laphroaig,” Grosvenor said, “no ice, please, just a little cool water.”

“And a Knob Creek on the rocks,” Stone said to her, and she disappeared.

“Welcome to Los Angeles,” Stone said.

“Thank you. We’ve been here many times, of course, but we’ve come this time to purchase a residence and settle.”

The waitress returned with their drinks, then left.

“Bill Eggers said that someone had referred you to me.”

“Ah, yes, a New York friend, Emerson Wilson.”

Stone had met the man at a dinner and talked with him for half the evening, but that was it. “Of course.”

“I regard Emerson as a keen judge of character,” Grosvenor said, “and he regards you as a good man to deal with.”

“I’m flattered,” Stone said. “What sort of services will you require from Woodman and Weld?”

“Perhaps you might tell me how your firm could best serve?”

“We can provide you with essential legal services, including finance and tax assessment. We can introduce you to a reputable investment adviser and a realtor to help in your search for a residence. We can also help you deal with any immigration issues you may have.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem for us — my wife is an American citizen.”

“That makes things much simpler. Where do you currently reside, Mr. Grosvenor?”

“In Eaton Square, London, and we have a country house near Chester.”

Stone recalled that Eaton Square was owned by the Duke of Westminster and that his family seat was near Chester. “And how soon do you plan to relocate?”

“You might say that, having arrived, we have already relocated. All we need is a house to complete the move.”

“Have you chosen a neighborhood?”

“We quite like Bel-Air,” Grosvenor said.

“You understand that I work in the New York office of Woodman and Weld and that I live in that city.”

“Quite.”

“There are a dozen partners in our Los Angeles offices. I think it’s best that I introduce you to one of them tomorrow and that he begin to assess your needs and make recommendations.”

“I was rather hoping that you could be involved.”

“Of course, but I think it’s best that you have an attorney on the ground in Los Angeles. I can be available in New York whenever I’m needed.”

“Do you not have a residence in Los Angeles?”

“I do, at The Arrington, just up Stone Canyon, but I’m normally here only two or three times a year. I may be here more often now since my son is living here, working as a film director at Centurion Studios.”

“Ah, Hollywood. That interests me.”

“Well, you’ll see a lot of it in Los Angeles,” Stone said. “Are you available for lunch tomorrow?”

“I believe so.”

“Let me invite a partner to join us who is more savvy about living in California. He will be up to date on taxes, for instance.”

“Of course. What is his name?”

“I have in mind Thomas Wise, our managing partner here. He’s a native Angeleno and a very knowledgeable attorney.”

“May I bring Mrs. Grosvenor?”

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