Stuart Woods: Bel-Air dead

“Then that means you’re out of the hotel development, too, doesn’t it?”

“No, Eleanor wants to proceed with the hotel. I’ll run the project for her, and I’ll have a lot more freedom than I would have had with Terry. Once she closes on the property I’ll help her find partners for the money required to design and develop the hotel.”

“You’re overlooking something,” Stone said.

“I don’t think so,” Carolyn replied, looking confident.

“Tell me, why did Prince make the initial payment from his personal account?”

“That was his money,” she said. “Eleanor was to provide the rest of the purchase price, in return for a share of the project. But now Terry is out of it, and it’s all Eleanor’s. And mine.”

“Ah, I see,” Stone said.

A cell phone rang, and she rummaged in her purse until she found it. “Excuse me, Stone. I don’t recognize this number, but I’d better take it. Hello? Yes, I heard,” she said. “All right, I can take care of that. Call me when you can.” She hung up. “That was Terry,” she said, “calling from Parker Center on a borrowed cell phone.”

“And what did he have to say?” Stone asked.

“He wants me to go ahead with the closing before noon on Friday. I’m to send him a power of attorney, so that I can sign the documents for him.”

“So he doesn’t know yet about yours and Eleanor’s plan?”

“No, and the D.A. plans to ask at his arraignment that he be held without bail, so he’s unlikely to get the full picture for a while.”

“So, you plan to close, but for Eleanor, not Prince?”

“Exactly. It’s poetic, isn’t it? Bad people always get what’s coming to them. Even if Terry beats this rap he’ll be ruined by the time the trial is over, and he’ll still have the Colombians and the Mexicans to deal with. They’re going to want their money from the Centurion deal back, and they’re going to insist.”

“Yes,” Stone said, “bad people always get what’s coming to them. Usually, anyway.”

“Can we close at ten o’clock on Friday morning?” she asked.

“Where?”

“I don’t think we’d better do it in Terry’s office. How about here? All we’ll need is a table to sign on, and I’ll bring a cashier’s check for two hundred twenty-five million.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Stone said, rising.

She got up, too, and suddenly emitted a loud sneeze. She groped in her bag for a tissue and blew her nose noisily. “Sorry about that; it seems to be getting worse.”

Stone held out a wastebasket for her tissue. “I hope you feel better,” he said.

Manolo led her toward the front door.

Dino had sat quietly throughout the conversation. “I guess you’re going to want an evidence bag,” he said, digging into a pocket.

“Yes, please,” Stone said, reaching for the wastebasket.

Stone put a note to Ed Eagle in the FedEx box, along with the used tissue, and handed it to Manolo. “Please call for pickup, and mark it for early delivery.”

“Yes, Mr. Stone,” Manolo said.

Dino spoke up. “Are you going to sell the property to Mrs. Grosvenor?” he asked. “Knowing what you know about her?”

“Knowing what I know about her,” Stone said, “it would be safer to sell it to her than not. People who cross Barbara Eagle Keeler Grosvenor don’t seem to do well. Look at Terry Prince.”

“I’ll give you odds Prince gets bail,” Dino said. “It’ll be expensive, but he’ll be out.”

“Didn’t you just hear Carolyn say that he’s broke?”

“No, I heard her say he doesn’t have two hundred twenty-five million dollars to close the sale. That’s a far cry from not having a few million for bail.”

“Good point.”

“Now,” Dino said, “you should give some thought to what he’s going to do if he’s back on the street.”

“I’ve been doing just that,” Stone said.

“My guess is, you’re going to screw him out of his twenty-five million dollars.”

“No, I’m just going to let him screw himself out of it. All I have to do is wait until noon on Friday, and if he can’t close-and I don’t see how he can-I’ll keep his money, or rather, Arrington will. I take some satisfaction in knowing that a nonrefundable deposit was his idea, not mine.”

“Well, I don’t think that will make him any less pissed off, do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“And Stone, you do remember the things he tried to do to you when he wasn’t pissed off, don’t you?”

“I’m trying not to,” Stone replied uncomfortably.

“Mind if I make a suggestion?” Dino asked.

“Not at all.”

“Why don’t we just get into your airplane tomorrow morning and get the hell out of here and back to New York? I mean, you don’t have to be here to let Prince screw himself out of his deposit, and the relevant authorities will come get Ms. Blaine as soon as they match the DNA samples.”

“You have a point, Dino, as always, but that wouldn’t be any fun. I want to watch, don’t you?”

“From a distance,” Dino said.

“Listen, if you’re really worried, or if you really have to get back to the precinct, then I’ll drive you to LAX, and you can get the red-eye.”

“Me, fly the airlines? Don’t hold your breath.”

“I’ve spoiled you, haven’t I?”

“You sure have,” Dino replied.

“Well, Arrington can take you as far as Virginia, and Mike, all the way to New York. You can have your choice of jet travel.”

“And if I do that, who’s going to watch your back?”

“There is that,” Stone replied.

Arrington finished her nap in time for cocktails, and Mike Freeman joined them at her invitation.

Manolo took orders and served the drinks, along with canapes.

Mike spoke up. “Rick Barron called me a few minutes ago and asked me to join the board of Centurion,” he said.

“I hope you accepted,” Arrington said.

“I did. Who could resist? Are you on the board?”

“No, I didn’t want that, but I’ve asked Rick to appoint Stone instead. He can represent my interests on the board, and eventually, Peter’s.”

Stone nearly dropped his gimlet. “When did this happen?” he asked.

“A few minutes ago,” she replied.

“Same here,” Mike said. “Something else: Rick has decided that, rather than leave his Centurion stock to his grandchildren, he’d rather sell and leave them cash.”

“Is Strategic Services going to buy it?” Stone asked.

“We already have,” Mike said, “pending board approval. As our counsel, will you vote for that?”

“I certainly will,” Stone said.

“Then the vote will be a formality.”

“Then you two gentlemen,” Arrington said, “will have effective control of Centurion Studios.”

Stone took a deep breath. “Whew!”

“Don’t worry, Stone,” Mike said, “it’s just a business, like any other.”

“Not like any other,” Stone said.

“You have a point, I guess. Now that the issue of the land sale is settled, I suppose the next big decision for the board will be who succeeds Rick Barron as chairman and CEO.”

“Rick wants to retire?”

“Do you blame him?” Mike asked. “The man is in his midnineties, and this fight took a lot out of him, I think. He and Glenna want to move up to Santa Barbara full-time.”

“I don’t blame him. Did he make a recommendation on who should succeed him?” Stone asked.

“He told me that Jim Long wants the job,” Mike said.

Stone shook his head. “That’s way too close to Mrs. Grosvenor for me.”

“Me, too,” Mike agreed. “Rick’s recommendation is a fellow named Leo Goldman, Jr. He’s a producer at the studio and a board member, and his late father, Leo Senior, was a very successful CEO.”