Stuart Woods - L.A. Dead

"Vance didn't keep much from me, but he never mentioned Beverly in those terms. Anyway, he was pretty tight with her husband, Gordon."

"If he was sleeping with her, where do you think it might have happened?"

"In his RV, more than likely, but just about any place that was convenient."

"Did he ever bring her to the bungalow?"

"Not when I was around, but he didn't do that with his women, except maybe after hours. A few mornings there were signs in the bungalow that someone had been there."

"When was the last time you can remember?"

"No more than a day or two before he was shot."

"Did you ever find anything in the bungalow belonging to a woman?"

"Once or twice-a lipstick or a scarf. When I did, I just left it on Vance's desk and said nothing about it."

"Anything that you could identify as belonging to Walters?"

"Come to think of it, the lipstick I found was one I've seen her wear, but I suppose that's a pretty tenuous connection, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Nothing else?"

"Nothing I can think of. I'll call you if I think of anything else."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that. It could be important."

"How's Arrington bearing up?"

"I don't know, to tell you the truth. She's not communicating with me at the moment."

"Uh, oh; I don't want to know about that."

"Good, because I'm not going to tell you about it. What do you have planned for the day?"

"The beach, of course. Can't you hear the surf over the phone?"

"You know, I think I can."

"That's all you need to know about my day."

"You take care, then."

"Bye-bye."

Stone hung up. That had been a disappointment. He called Dino.

"Yes?"

"It's me. How's it going?"

"I'm having a lovely time sitting around the pool, while Mary Ann and Arrington talk and giggle."

"Any thaw there?"

"A little, maybe; I'll have to pump Mary Ann. My guess is, though, if you want her to talk to you, you're going to have to make the first move."

"What did I do?"

"Nothing, nothing, just got married. That seems to have disappointed her."

"But…"

"Listen, Stone, you don't have to convince me. She's behaved badly and won't admit it. I'm just saying that you're going to have to make the move, whether it's logical or not. It's how women work."

"Tell me about it."

"I shouldn't have to. What's up with you? Anything happening?"

"Marc Blumberg has filed for a motion to dismiss the charges against Arrington, so he'll probably turn up over there pretty soon to prep her for her testimony."

"What are the chances of shutting this thing down early?"

"In my view? Two: slim and very slim."

"I guess you've got to make the effort."

"You bet. I don't want to hang around LA. for another six months waiting for this to come to trial. I'm getting homesick for a little New York grit in my teeth, you know?"

"Yeah? Funny, I'm getting to like it here. Think the LAPD could use another detective?"

"You wouldn't last a month out here, Dino. It's all too easy; you're a New Yorker; you like things tough."

"Call Arrington and make nice, then maybe we can all have dinner together."

"Without Dolce?"

"Without Mrs. Barrington."

"Don't say that."

"Call her."

"Okay; see you later." Stone hung up and stared at the phone. He might as well get it over with.

Manolo answered the phone. "Good morning, Manolo," Stone said. "It's Stone Barrington. May I speak with Mrs. Calder?"

"Good morning, Mr. Barrington; it's good to hear from you. I'll see if she's in."

She'd damned well better be in, Stone thought. Next time she decamps I'll let her wait out the trial in jail. "Thank you."

She kept him waiting for a long time. This wasn't going to be easy. "Yes?" she said finally, coldly.

"Good morning."

"What can I do for you?"

"You can be civil, for a start."

"I'm listening; what do you want?"

"I invited Dino and Mary Ann out here as much for me as for you. I'd like to see them. Shall we try dinner again?"

"Oh, I do hope Mrs. Barrington can make it."

"I hope not. And she's Mrs. Barrington only in her own mind, nowhere else."

"How did that happen, Stone? Did you get drunk and wake up married?"

"I could ask you the same question, but I think we should do our best to put our respective marriages behind us and get on with our lives."

Long silence. "You have a point," she admitted finally. "If it makes any difference, I was on the rebound," he said. There was another silence while she thought about that. "Come for dinner at seven," she said, then hung up.

Stone chose his clothes carefully-a tan tropical wool suit, brown alligator loafers, and a pale yellow silk shirt, open at the collar, as a concession to L.A. Arrington had always responded to well-dressed men, and he wanted very much for her to respond. He entered through the front gate, the TV crew having departed for more sordid pastures, and parked in front of the house.

Manolo greeted him, beaming. "Good evening, Mr. Barrington," he said. "It's good to see you back here." There was relief in his voice, as if he'd feared that Stone might never be allowed in the house again.

"Good evening, Manolo," Stone said.

"They're having drinks out by the pool; shall I pour you a Wild Turkey?"

"I feel like something breezier," Stone said. "How about a vodka gimlet, straight up?"

"Of course."

Stone followed Manolo down the broad central hallway, past the spot where Vance Calder had bled out his life on the tiles, and emerged into the garden, past the spot where Felipe Cordova had left his big shoeprint. Where had Beverly Walters stood? he wondered.

Dino waved from a seat near the pool bar, where he, Mary Ann, and Arrington sat in thickly cushioned bamboo chairs around a coffee table. He gave Dino a wave and pecked the two women on the cheek as if there had never been a scene at their last meeting. Manolo went behind the bar and expertly mixed Stone's drink, then brought it to him in a frosty glass on a silver tray.

"Thank you, Manolo," he said.

"That looks good," Arrington said. She pulled his hand toward her and sipped from his drink. "Oh, a vodka gimlet. Let's all have one,

Manolo." Manolo went back to work while, at the other end of the pool, Isabel set a table for dinner.

"I thought wed dine outside," Arrington said. "Such a perfect California evening."

"It certainly is," Stone agreed. This was going well, and he was relieved.

"You know, before I married Vance I had always hated L.A., but evenings like this changed my mind. I mean, there's smog and traffic, and everybody talks about nothing but the business, but on evenings like this, you could almost forgive them."

"I think Dino has caught the L.A. bug, too," Stone said, smiling. "He was inquiring only today whether the LAPD would have him."

"What?" Mary Ann said. "Dino live out here? He wouldn't last a month."

"My very words to him."

"Maybe I wouldn't have to cop for a living," Dino said. "Maybe I'd become an actor. I could do all those parts Joe Pesci does, and better, too."

"You know, Dino, I believe you could," Arrington laughed. "Want me to call Lou Regenstein at Centurion and get you a screen test?"

"Nah, I don't test, and I don't audition," Dino said, waving a hand. "My agent would never let me do that… if I had an agent."

"That's it, Dino," Arrington said. "Play hard to get. Movie people want most the things they can't have. Your price would double."

Then, it seemed to Stone, the clock began to run backward, and they all became the people they had been before all this had happened. They were old friends, easy together, enjoying the evening and each other. The gimlets seemed to help, too. Soon they were laughing loudly at small jokes. Then Manolo called them to dinner.