Stuart Woods - Swimming To Catalina

“That’s okay; it gave me some thinking time, not that it did much good.”

“How’d it go with Arrington’s car?”

“Your guys did good; they were still there when I arrived. Marina Del Rey is a big place; lots of people there. I waited and watched for more than two hours, and the second I went to the can she drove away.”

“The girl was the driver?”

“Yeah; somebody saw her.”

“Were you in plain sight all of this time?”

“Most of it I was sitting in my car; I did walk around a little when I first got there.”

“Could somebody have recognized you?”

“Well, I was standing on top of an ice machine with binoculars for a good five minutes. I’d have been hard to miss.”

“If somebody had an eye on you, she could have waited for you to disappear into the john before driving off.”

“I don’t think Arrington isavoiding me,” Stone replied. “After all, she’s tried to telephone me twice.”

“Good point. Was anybody with her when she drove off?”

“No, and what’s more, she was wearing a bikini under a man’s shirt.”

“Sounds like she was just sunning herself on somebody’s boat and decided to leave.”

“Yeah, that’s twice she’s been seen alone in her car, and I have to think she could have driven anywhere she wanted to, including back to Calder’s house.”

“Doesn’t sound like there’s any duress involved.”

Stone sighed. “There’s all kinds of duress.”

Grant handed him a menu. “Let’s order.”

“You order for me; I don’t think I can get my mind around a menu right now.”

Grant ordered for both of them, and soon Stone was enjoying a selection of pâtés and a moussaka, along with a Cypriot wine.

“Feeling better?” Grant asked.

“Yeah, I am; I guess I was a little depressed.”

“Not without cause. You’ve got a real mystery on your hands.”

Stone looked around; the restaurant was only half full and was very quiet. “You mind if I make a phone call?” He produced his pocket phone.”

“Go ahead.”

“Calder called me in New York; he thinks I’m back there.” He dialed the number in Bel-Air.

“Good evening, Mr. Calder’s residence.” It was the Filipino butler.

“Good evening, this is Stone Barrington; I’m returning Mr. Calder’s call.”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Barrington; please hold.”

“Stone?”

“Hello, Vance.”

“Did you have a good flight home?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“I understand you stayed over for a couple of days.”

“Betty is very attractive.”

“Of course she is; I don’t blame you a bit.”

“Is Arrington back home yet?”

“Not yet; she’s still out in the Valley, but everything is all right.”

“Vance, are you absolutely certain about that? I have to tell you that my impression when I was out there is that things are not entirely all right.”

“Well, I can see how you might have gotten that impression, but I assure you, they are.”

“How’s shooting going on your film?”

“We wrapped today,” Calder said, “and I think we’ve got a winner. Certainly your work helped.”

“Thank you. Well, please give Arrington my best when she’s home. Ask her to give me a call when she has a moment.”

“Of course, yes. Goodbye, Stone.”

Stone closed the phone. “It’s all very weird,” he said to Grant.

“How is it weird?”

“Vance’s wife has disappeared; I don’t think he has any idea where she is, but he pretends she’s staying with a friend in the Valley, and that he’s talking to her.”

“Why is that weird? Sounds reasonable to me.”

“She was seen in Marina Del Rey this afternoon, so I know she’s not out in the Valley.”

“Maybe that’s just what she told Calder.”

Stone blinked. “She’s with another man, you mean?”

“That’s what I mean. If you look at this as purely a domestic matter, it all fits. They have a fight, and she takes off for a few days; not the first timethat has happened. Calder panics and calls you. You arrive, and Calder is feeling a little stupid for having done so, so he entertains you for a while, then ships you back to New York. In the meantime, the Calders haven’t settled their differences, one of which might be another man, so she hasn’t come home yet. Maybe she’s cranking up for a divorce.”

“But why would they stick me in Vance’s movie, pay me a lot of money, then replace me with another actor?”

“To keep you out of Calder’s face about his wife. He certainly has enough power to ask the producer to do that; maybe he even reimbursed Centurion for their costs. He’s rich enough.”

“Yes, he is, I suppose. But if the explanation is as simple as that, why were Ippolito’s men following me last night?”

“Maybe Ippolito is doing Calder a favor. Look, I think your presence here has been an embarrassment for Calder-it shows him up as something of a schmuck-and movie stars don’t like being seen to be schmucks, not to mention cuckolds.”

“Why would the two guys who were following me break into Betty’s house and search it?”

“To find out if you’re still in town?”

“Maybe. I think I shook them by changing cars.” He thought for a moment. “Why would Arrington call me from Grimaldi’s?”

“Because she wanted to talk to you?”

“What would she be doing there?”

“Maybe she’s seeing somebody who frequents the place.”

“So you’re saying that every move that everybody has made this week can be explained by a domestic quarrel and a boyfriend on the side?”

“Stone, try and look at this business like a cop. Doesn’t that scenario answer all the questions? If you had been assigned to investigate possible foul play, would you continue to investigate at this point?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Stone admitted.

“So, maybe your personal stake in all this is what’s driving you. I mean, I admit that a lot of screwy stuff has happened in a very short time, but I’ve seen screwier stuff happen without a crime being committed, haven’t you?”

“Sure.”

“I’m not underrating the value of a good hunch; if you’ve got a hunch, then that’s a good enough reason to pursue this.”

“I guess a hunch is all I’ve got,” Stone said. “What would you do, in my place?”

Grant thought about that for a minute. “I guess I’d pursue it until I was convinced one way or the other.” He laughed.

Stone laughed with him. “I guess that’s what I’m going to do,” he said. “I’m going to find out what’s going on, one way or the other.”

Stone was wakened by a ringing telephone at his bedside. He tried to ignore it, but it rang on and on. Finally, he picked up the instrument. “Hello?” he said grumpily.

“Rise and shine,” Betty said. “Today, you’re mine.”

“What time is it?”

“Nearly eight o’clock.”

“I haven’t slept like that in months,” he said. “I could have kept going another four hours.”

“Today we play, pal. Now here’s what you do; you pack an overnight bag, and don’t bring a necktie. A swimsuit and tennis clothes would be nice, but if you didn’t bring them we can pick them up later. Got that?”

“Where are we going?”

“To a favorite place of mine, and that’s all you need to know. I’ll pick you up in half an hour.”

“No, don’t come here. Take a cab to the Beverly Hills Hotel, make sure nobody’s following you, and I’ll pick you up at the front door in an hour.”

“Whatever you say, Sir,” she replied, then hung up.

Stone sat up in bed and thought about how he felt. A hell of a lot better than last night, was the verdict. He’d gotten some sound sleep, and he didn’t feel the heavy weight of depression that had burdened him the previous evening. He struggled out of bed and into a shower.