Stuart Woods - Swimming To Catalina

“No. Arrington is asleep in the next room.”

Vance headed for the door, but Stone stopped him. “Don’t wake her; she’s had a rough night. Let’s have some breakfast.”

Vance finished his coffee and put down the cup. He had said little for the past hour; Stone had done all the talking. “Thank you, Stone,” he said finally. “What has Arrington had to say about…her experience?”

“Nothing; she was too exhausted.”

“It’s important that I talk to her before you do.”

“She’s your wife,” Stone said.

“I have some things to explain to her before you start asking her questions, as I know you will. Then you can ask your questions, and I’ll take her home.”

“I don’t think you should do that, Vance.”

“Why not?”

“Because this isn’t over by a long shot, and she may not be safe. I think it would be better if you arrange a suite here, move in, and not talk to anybody.”

Vance thought about that. “All right. I’d better go and get some clothes for us both.”

“Good idea; I’ll talk to the manager. Come back here when you’re done, and don’t tell your staff where you’re going.”

Vance nodded, got up, and left.

Stone called the manager. “Thank you for the adjoining room,” he said. “Is there a suite on the other side of it?”

“Yes, there is.” He checked for a moment. “And it’s empty.”

“Please open it up and slide the key under my door.”

“Certainly, Mr. Barrington.”

“And please be sure to deny any knowledge of me. If any phone calls come in, say that I checked out this morning.”

“As you wish.”

Stone hung up. Arrington was standing in the doorway, naked.

She came to him and put her arms around him.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked lamely.

She shook her head. “I was hot, so I took off the robe.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“I had some bad dreams.”

“I’m not surprised. Do you want some breakfast?”

“I want to make love to you.”

Stone wanted that, too, more than he had wanted anything for a long time. “Vance was just here,” he said. “He’s gone to get some clothes for the both of you, and he’s moving into the hotel until we get this figured out.”

She didn’t respond.

“I think you’d better be back in your room when he gets here.”

“All right.” She kissed him for a long time, then she turned and started for the door.

“Are you sure you don’t want some breakfast?”

“Maybe later.”

“I’ll send Vance in when he gets here.”

“All right.” She closed the door.

Stone wanted very badly to follow her, but he didn’t. He sat down weakly and put his face in his hands.

Vance arrived a few minutes later, loaded down with suitcases; he hadn’t bothered with a bellman.

“I think she’s awake,” Stone said.

Vance knocked, then he went into the bedroom, carrying suitcases, and closed the door behind him.

Stone took the coffee pot out onto the terrace and sipped it until it was cold. Vance was in the bedroom with Arrington for more than an hour, and he could hear nothing.

Finally Vance emerged from the bedroom, looking tired and drawn. “Arrington wants to talk to you,” he said.

Stone went into the bedroom and closed the door. Arrington was taking things out of suitcases and putting them into another.

“Please sit down,” she said.

Stone sat on a sofa and waited for her to begin.

She came and sat next to him. “First, you need to ask me some questions about the last couple of weeks; let’s get that out of the way, then I have some things to say to you.”

Stone nodded. “All right.” Then he began to ask the questions.

She was terribly calm, he thought, considering what she had been through. She sat looking at him, waiting for his questions. “How were you taken?” he asked, finally.

“I was shopping on Rodeo Drive; I went back to the parking lot to get my car, and two men pushed me into a van. They taped my eyes and mouth and hands, and I heard them going through my handbag, talking about my car keys. I think one of them drove my car.”

“Where did they take you?”

“I don’t know. They moved me every day; sometimes they took off the blindfold when I got there; sometimes they untaped my hands. I got to a phone in some back room somewhere and tried to call you. Twice.”

“I figured that out,” Stone said. “You were in the storeroom of a restaurant. I found the matchbook.”

She smiled. “Good detective.”

“Did anyone ever tell you why you were taken?”

“A couple of times, one of them said, ‘Don’t worry; we’re not going to hurt you. When your husband comes through, we’ll take you home.’I asked what they meant by ‘comes through,’ but they wouldn’t say. I assumed they meant ransom.”

“But you talked to Vance every day.”

“Yes, but they would only allow me to say that I was all right. They wanted me to beg him to get me back, too. I tried not to do that.”

“Did anyone ever tell you who had ordered your kidnapping?”

“No. I asked, but they wouldn’t tell me. I heard an occasional reference to ‘the boss.’”

“When did they take you to the yacht?”

“I was on two boats, at different times; I was on the big yacht twice.”

“Did they take you there by boat?”

“The first time they did; the second time the boat was at a dock. That was yesterday.”

“Did they ever hurt you? Rough you up?”

“Once one of them slapped me, after I used the phone. His name was Vinnie, I remember that. I’d like to kick him in the balls, if I ever have the chance.”

“You won’t; he’s dead. Was there another one named Manny?”

“Yes, but they kept changing. There was a Tommy and one they called Zip, too.”

“Any other names?”

“No, just the four of them.”

“Did you ever hear the names of Sturmack or Ippolito mentioned?”

“No; I know them both, so I would have remembered.”

“It was Ippolito’s yacht.”

“I got that impression from your conversation with Dino last night.”

“Did you ever hear the name of Martin Barone?”

There was a flash of recognition. “I heard one of them mention ‘Marty’ once.”

“In what connection?”

“It was something like, ‘Better check with Marty.’”

“About what?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Do you have any idea at all what they wanted from Vance? He’s been very close-mouthed.”

“No, I don’t. As I said, I thought they wanted ransom, and you can’t blame Vance for not talking about it; I heard them say over and over to him on the phone that if he said anything to anyone, I wouldn’t be coming back.”

“How did you know that I was in L.A., at the Bel-Air?”

“The trade paper. It said you were at a party at Vance’s house, so I figured he had turned to you for help.” She put her hand on his. “I’m glad he did.”

“Would you recognize the other two men-Tommy and Zip-if you saw them again?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Do you know their last names?”

“No.”

“Can you describe them?”

“Tommy was about six-four, well over two hundred pounds, a weightlifter, I’m sure; coal-black hair, about thirty. Zip was shorter, a little under six feet, but heavily built; he had black hair going gray, and I guess he was in his early forties.”

“Good. Can you think of anything else about your captivity that might help us find out who was responsible?”

“It must be Ippolito, since I was on his yacht. Do you really think David Sturmack is involved? He was always very kind to me; I liked him.”