L.A. Dead Part 13

"I suppose you're right," she said. "G.o.d, but I hate living under a microscope. How long is this going to go on?"

"Weeks, maybe months. If the police find Vance's killer, that will help it go away. How is Peter?"

"He's wonderful. We talked this morning, and he's having a great time in Virginia. Mother keeps horses, and she has a pony for him. I want him to stay there until this is over."

"That's a good idea, I think."

"Drive straight through the town," she said. "The house is in the Malibu Colony, just past the little business district."

Stone followed her instructions, and turned through a gate, where they were stopped by a security guard.

"It's me, Steve," she said to the man.

"Welcome back, Mrs. Calder," he replied.

"If anybody asks, I'm not here," she said. "This is Mr. Barrington; he'll be coming and going."

"I'll put his name on the list."

Stone followed Arrington's directions to the house, a large stone and cedar contemporary on the beach. He gave her the key, and she opened the door and punched in the security code. He made a note of the code.

Stone went to the phone and called Betty.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"I've taken Arrington to the Malibu house; there was a mob of press at the clinic."

"The police have called here twice."

"Guy named Durkee?"

"That's right."

"If he calls again, tell him you haven't heard from me today."

"All right; are you coming in at all?"

"Maybe later." He gave her his cell phone number. "You can reach me there in an emergency. If you call here, let it ring once, hang up, and call again."

"You were wonderful last night," she said. "This morning, too."

"Same here," he replied.

"Oh, she's there, huh?"

"I'll talk to you later." He hung up.

"I want to take a bath," Arrington said. "Join me?"

"Thanks, I've just showered," he replied.

"Oh, it's going to be like that, is it?"

"You're a grieving widow, and I'm an old family friend."

"We'll see." She went upstairs.

Stone found Vance's study and picked up the phone. It was time to call Marc Blumberg.

Seventeen.

MARC BLUMBERG CAME ON THE LINE. "CONGRATULATIONS on getting her out of the Judson place," he said. "I pa.s.sed the clinic on the way to work this morning; there were a lot of disappointed TV people out on the street."

"The cops leaked it to the media," Stone said. "I made the mistake of giving them advance notice."

"I saw a cop car there this morning, with Durkee in it."

"I saw them, too; do you think they were just there to watch the fun?"

"I think they were there to arrest Arrington," Blumberg said.

"Why do you think that?"

"I heard from a source at the LAPD that they have a witness who says Arrington expressed an interest in killing Vance."

"I don't believe it," Stone said.

"I don't believe she'd say that, either," Blumberg replied, "but I do believe that someone might say she did."

"Any idea who?"

"Not yet. I think it's time for me to call the D.A. and express our desire to cooperate, offer to let them question Arrington."

"They're not going to like what she has to say. She still has a memory gap from the day before the killing until she woke up in the clinic. They're probably going to want a polygraph, too."

"I'll have the usual reasons for not cooperating on that, plus there's the memory loss; she can't lie about what she can't remember."

"They'd want to ask her if she can can remember," Stone said. "If she says she can't, and the needle jumps, they'll be all over her." remember," Stone said. "If she says she can't, and the needle jumps, they'll be all over her."

"I think we should consider doing a polygraph of our own," Blumberg said.

"And leak it to the press?"

"Right."

"Couldn't hurt."

"Where is she now?"

"At the Malibu house; I'm with her." Stone gave him the phone number.

"Have any funeral arrangements been made yet?"

"Lou Regenstein is handling that; he plans to do it on a sound stage at the studio."

"Good idea; that'll keep the public at arm's length. Stone, I think they're going to arrest Arrington, but I think I can hold them off, until after the funeral."

"What do you think the charge will be?"

"If they have faith in their witness, it could be murder one."

"s.h.i.t," Stone said. "And that will mean no bail. I don't want to see her in jail for weeks or months, waiting for a trial."

"Neither do I," Blumberg said. "There's an outside chance that I could get house arrest, under police guard, with high bail. Can she raise it?"

"How high are we talking about?"

"At least a million; maybe as high as ten million."

"I'll have to talk to Vance's lawyer and financial people about that," Stone said. "I've been putting it off, hoping the situation would be resolved. There are two big insurance policies, but they're not going to pay if Arrington is arrested."

"Is she the beneficiary?"

"No, the estate is, but she's the princ.i.p.al heir."

"If the estate is the beneficiary, the insurance company has to pay; no way around it for them. But, of course, there's a law against a murderer profiting from his crime, so probate would be another story. However, we could offer to sign over Arrington's interest in the estate to secure a high bail; a judge might go for it, because until she's convicted, she's innocent."

"Any precedent for that?"

"I'll get somebody researching; we'll do a brief."

"Good; I'll get on to the Calders' financial people and see how liquid she is."

"Okay. If the police show up there and want to arrest Arrington or take her in for questioning, tell them her doctor has ordered her to bed and to call their captain or the D.A. before proceeding."

"Right." Stone said good-bye and hung up. Immediately, the phone rang. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Stone, it's Betty; Manolo just called and said the police are at the Bel-Air house with a search warrant, tearing the place apart."

"Call him back and tell him not to impede them in any way," Stone replied. "I'll call him later."

"All right. Anything else?"

"Did Vance have a princ.i.p.al financial adviser?"

"He pretty much managed his own affairs," she replied, "but the person who would have the greatest grasp of his affairs is Marvin Kitman, his accountant. His lawyer is Bradford Crane."

Stone jotted down both numbers. "Call both of them, and tell them I'm handling Arrington's affairs. There's a power of attorney in Vance's office desk, giving me full authority; fax that to both of them."

"All right. Are you still out of touch, if the police call again?"

"I am. I'll talk to you later." Stone hung up to see Arrington coming down the stairs. She was wearing a thin, silk dressing gown, and judging from the way she was lit from behind by a large window on the stair landing, nothing else.

"Ah, that's better," she said, heading for the bar. "Can I fix you a drink?"

"It's a little early for me, and for you, too. Come and sit down, Arrington; we have to talk."

"I'm having a Virgin Mary," she said, pouring tomato c.o.c.ktail over ice, "or, as Vance used to call it when he was dieting, a 'b.l.o.o.d.y awful.'" She came and sat down beside him on the sofa, drawing a leg under her, exposing an expanse of inner thigh. "I'm here," she said, placing her hand on his.

Stone took her hand. "I've got to explain your situation to you," he said, "and you're going to have to take what I tell you seriously."

She withdrew her hand. "All right, go ahead."

"I've retained a criminal trial lawyer to represent you, a man named Marc Blumberg."

"I know him a little," Arrington said. "His wife is in my yoga cla.s.s. But why do I need a criminal lawyer?"

"Because there's a good possibility that you may be charged with Vance's murder."

"But that's ridiculous!" she said. "Utter nonsense!"

"I know it is, but you have to understand how the police work. They suspect you, because you were the only one in the house when Vance was shot."

"Except the murderer," she said.

"They think you hid the gun somewhere in the house, and they're over there right now with a search warrant."

"Suppose they find it? What then?"

"Then they'll check it for your fingerprints."

"Complete nonsense."

"What I'm trying to tell you is that you have to be prepared to be arrested and charged."

"You mean go to jail?"

"It's possible that, in such a case, bail could be denied by a judge, and you'd have to remain in custody until the trial was over."

"Oh, G.o.d," she said, bringing both hands to her face, "I don't think I could take that."