Stuart Woods - L.A. Dead

Stone poured three Stregas and handed two of them to Eduardo and Dino. They raised their glasses and sipped.

"Come, sit," Eduardo said, motioning them to a sofa. "Why have you come to see me?" he asked when they were settled.

"Eduardo," Stone said, "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but about two hours ago, Dolce attempted to kill Charlene Joiner, the actress you met the other evening at the Regensteins'."

Eduardo winced, and his hand went to his forehead. His face showed no incredulity, simply painful resignation. "How did this occur?"

"Dolce apparently drove out to Malibu, parked her car, and approached Charlene's house from the beach. She fired two bullets through a sliding-glass door at Charlene, who was lying on a sofa, reading."

"Was Miss Joiner harmed?"

"No, only frightened."

"Do you think Dolce seriously tried to kill her?"

"I'm afraid I do, and she came very close."

"Where would Dolce have gotten a gun out here?" Eduardo asked. He seemed to be thinking quickly.

"Apparently, she took it from my house in New York without my knowledge. The gun belonged to Dino; he had loaned it to me."

"Does she still have the gun?"

Dino spoke up. "I saw no sign of it outside Miss Joiner's house, so I assume she does."

"Are the police involved?"

"No," Stone replied. "Charlene called me, instead of the police, and she has no intention of involving them."

"Thank God for that," Eduardo said. "This would have been so much more difficult."

"It's difficult enough," Stone said. "I feel responsible."

Eduardo shook his head. "No, no, Stone; something like this has been coming for a long time. If it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else."

"Why do you say that, Eduardo?" Dino asked. "Has she ever done anything like this before?"

Eduardo shrugged. "Since she was a little girl she always reacted violently if denied something she wanted."

The doorbell rang, and Dino jumped up. "I'll get it," he said.

"Dolce is all right most of the time," Eduardo said to Stone. "But she occasionally has these…" He didn't finish the sentence. "I had hoped that if she were happily married, she might be all right." He stopped talking while the waiter set the dining table, then he motioned for his guests to take seats.

He poured them some wine and waited until they had begun to eat their pasta before continuing. "She's seen a psychiatrist from time to time, but she always discontinued treatment after a few sessions. Her doctor advised me at one point to have her hospitalized for a while, but instead I took her to Sicily, and after some time there, she seemed better."

"What can I do to help?" Stone asked.

"I'll have to ask her doctor to recommend some place out here where she can be treated," Eduardo replied.

"I believe I know a good place," Stone said. He told Eduardo about the Judson Clinic and Arrington's stay there. "Would you like me to call Dr. Judson?"

"I would be very grateful if you would do so," Eduardo replied.

Stone left the table, called the clinic, and asked them to get in touch with Judson and have him telephone him at the Bel-Air. "I'm sure they'll be able to find him," he said when he had returned. "I was very impressed with Judson," he told Eduardo.

"Good," Eduardo said. "I'll get in touch with her own doctor and ask him to come out here and consult."

"I expect that, after treatment, she'll be all right," Stone said.

"I hope so," Eduardo replied, but he did not sound hopeful.

The phone rang and Stone answered it. "Hello?"

"May I speak with Stone Barrington, please?"

"Speaking."

"Stone, this is Jim Judson, returning your call."

Stone briefly explained the circumstances. "Do you think you could admit her to your clinic? Her father will be in touch with her doctor in New York and ask him to come out here."

"Of course," Judson replied. "When can you bring her to the clinic?"

"I'm not sure," Stone said. "We have to find her."

"Is she likely to be violent?"

"That's a possibility, but I don't really know."

"I'll have my people prepare, then. When you're ready to bring her here, just call the main number. I'll alert the front desk. If you need an ambulance or restraints, just let them know."

"Thank you, Jim; I'll be in touch." Stone hung up and returned to the table. "Dr. Judson will admit her," he said.

"But now we have to find her," Dino said. "Where do we look?"

Eduardo sighed. "I know where she is," he said sadly. "She's at the home of some friends of mine who are out of the country. We'll go there together."

Stone shook his head. "Dino and I can do this, Eduardo. Dolce is already angry with me; let's not make her angry with you, too."

Eduardo nodded. He found a pad, wrote down the address, and handed it to Stone. "I know I don't have to ask you to be gentle with her."

"Of course, I will be."

"But be careful," Eduardo said. "Don't allow her to endanger you or Dino."

Stone nodded and shook Eduardo's hand. "When this is done," Eduardo said, "there's something else I must talk with you about. Please call me."

"I'll call you as soon as we get Dolce to the clinic." He and Dino left before dessert arrived.

With Dino navigating, Stone found the house. It was on Mulholland Drive, high above the city, a contemporary structure anchored to the mountainside by a cradle of steel beams. The front door was at street level, but the rear deck, Stone noticed, was high above the rocky hillside. The house was dark, but there was a sedan with a Hertz sticker on the bumper parked in the carport.

Stone parked on the roadside and headed for the front door, but Dino stopped him.

"Give me a couple of minutes to get around back," he said.

"Dino, the back of the house is at least fifty feet off the ground."

"Just give me a couple of minutes."

Stone stood at the roadside and looked out at what was nearly an aerial view of Los Angeles-a carpet of lights arranged in a neat grid, disappearing into a distant bank of smog, with a new moon hanging overhead. The air seemed clearer up here, he thought, taking a deep breath of mountain air. How had it come to this? he wondered. What had started as a passionate affair and had ripened into something even better was now broken into many pieces, ruined by Dolce's obsession with him and his own bond with Arrington. He didn't know where this would all end, but nothing looked promising. He glanced at his watch, then started up the driveway to the house.

The house's entry was dark, but as he approached, his feet crunching on gravel, he saw that the front door was ajar. He stopped and listened for a moment. Music was coming from somewhere in the interior of the house-a Mozart symphony, he thought, though he couldn't place it. Some instinct told him not to ring the doorbell. He pushed the door open a little and stepped inside into a foyer. He could hear the music better now. It seemed to be coming from the living room, beyond. He moved forward. A little moon and starlight came through the sliding glass doors to the deck, on the other side of the living room. He walked down a couple of steps. He could see the dim outlines of furniture. Then the silence was broken.

"I knew you'd come, Stone," Dolce said.

Stone jumped and looked around, but he couldn't find her. "Do you mind if we turn on a light?"

"I prefer the dark," she said. "It's better for what I have to do."

"You don't have to do anything, Dolce," he said. "Just relax; let's sit down and talk for a little while."

"Talking's over," she said. "We're way beyond talk, now."

"No, we can always talk."

The sound of two light pistol shots cracked the silence, and Stone dove for the floor, but not before the muzzle flash illuminated her, standing with her back to the fireplace, holding the pistol in both hands, combat-style.