L.A. Dead

'Nope, just you and me-and your friend. Anybody I know?'

'I'll surprise you,' Stone said. 'See you in an hour.' He hung up and turned to Arrington. 'Get dressed,' he said, 'and put on your disguise.'

'I'll have to dry my hair,' she said.

'Then do it fast.' He picked up the phone and buzzed Joan Robertson. 'Morning.'

'Good morning.'

'I've got to leave for L.A. in half an hour; I want to drive, so will you come along and drive the car back?'

'Sure; I'll put the answering machine on.'

'See you downstairs in a few minutes.'

While Arrington dried her hair, Stone packed, put his bags in the elevator, and pressed the down button. Then he grabbed a quick shower and shave and threw on some casual clothes. 'Ready?' he asked Arrington.

'Ready,' she said, getting into her raincoat, wrapping the scarf around her head and slipping on her dark glasses.

They took the stairs to the ground floor. Stone led her through the door to the garage, put their bags into the trunk of the car, and opened a rear door for her. 'You wait here, while I get Joan, and don't talk on the way to the airport; I don't want her to know who you are.'

Arrington shrugged. 'Whatever you say.' She got into the car and closed the door.

Stone went to his office, signed a couple of letters, and brought Joan back to the car. 'There's someone in the backseat,' he said. 'Please don't look, and please don't ask any questions.'

'Okay,' Joan replied.

He opened the passenger door. 'You sit up here; I'll drive.'

Stone pressed the remote button on the sun visor and started the car, all in one motion. He had visions of Dolce waiting for him in the street, and he wasn't going to give her time to react. He reversed out of the garage, across the sidewalk, and into the street, causing a cabby to slam on his brakes and blow his horn. He pressed the remote button again, put the car into gear and was off, checking his mirrors. He thought for a moment that he saw a dark-haired woman across the street from his house, but he wasn't sure it was Dolce. He made the light and crossed Third Avenue. He would take the tunnel.

The car was something special-a Mercedes E55, which was an E-Class sedan with a souped-up big V8, a special suspension, and the acceleration of an aircraft carrier catapult launcher. Something else for which he was grateful, at the moment: The car had been manufactured with a level of armor that would repel small-arms fire. He had been car shopping when it was delivered to the showroom and had bought it in five minutes, on a whim, at another time in his life when he feared that somebody might be shooting at him.

Rush hour was over, and he made it to the Atlantic Aviation terminal in twenty-five minutes, without getting arrested, all the while dictating a stream of instructions to Joan about what had to be done in the way of repairing the house.

At the chain-link gate to the ramp, he buzzed the intercom and gave the tail number of the Centurion jet. The gate slid open and he drove onto the ramp and to the big Gulfstream Four. He parked at the bottom of the airstair door, gave the bags to the second officer, who was waiting for them, and gave Joan a peck on the cheek. 'Thanks for not asking any questions,' he said. 'One of these days, I'll explain.'

Joan leaned forward and whispered, 'She's just as beautiful as her pictures.' Then she took the keys, got into the car, and headed for the gate.

Stone led Arrington up the stairs and into the airplane. Lou Regenstein was sitting on a couch, reading The New York Times. He looked up as Arrington took off her glasses and scarf. 'Holy shit,' he said. 'What are you…'

Stone held up a hand. 'Don't ask. You have not seen what you're seeing.'

'Well,' Lou said, standing up and hugging Arrington. 'You're the nicest invisible lady I've ever seen.'

The airplane began to move, and Stone began to breathe again.

Chapter 34

With the time change in their favor, it was late afternoon when the G-IV touched down at Santa Monica airport. There was a short taxi to Supermarine, where Lou Regensteins stretch Mercedes limousine was waiting at the bottom of the airstair when the engines stopped. It took a minute to load their luggage, then they were headed toward the freeway.

'May I use your phone, Lou?' Arrington asked. 'I want to call home.'

'Of course.'

She dialed the number. 'Hello, Manolo, I'm…' She stopped and held her hand over the phone. 'Something's wrong,' she said. 'Manolo just called me, 'sir.''

Stone took the phone. 'Manolo, it's Mr. Barrington; is there someone there?'

'Yes, sir,' Manolo said smoothly. 'I'm afraid she's resting at the moment. Can I have her call you back? There are some gendemen waiting to see her now.'

'Gentlemen? The police?'

'Yes, sir,' Manolo said, sounding relieved that Stone had caught on.

'Just arrived?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Do this: Go and knock on Mrs. Calder's bedroom door and pretend to speak to her, then put the policemen in Mr. Calder's study, and tell them she's getting dressed, and she'll be a few minutes. Give them some coffee to keep them occupied.'

'Yes, Mr. Regenstein, I'll tell her you called,' Manolo said, then hung up.

Stone put the phone back in its cradle.

'Trouble?' Lou asked.

Stone nodded. 'Tell your driver to get moving; the cops are at the house.'

Lou picked up the phone and pressed the intercom button. 'Get us to the Calder place pronto,' he said.

Stone took the phone and told the driver how to find the utility gate.

Arrington looked out the window. She seemed finally to have grasped what a difficult position she had put herself in.

Ten hair-raising minutes later, the limousine pulled into the rear drive and stopped at the gate.

'We'll walk from here, Lou,' Stone said. 'Please ask your driver to leave our bags at Vance's bungalow.' He shook hands with Lou, grabbed Arrington's hand and practically dragged her from the car.

'I don't have the remote control for the gate with me,' he said. 'Is there some other way to open it?'

'Not that I know of,' Arrington said, jogging to keep up with him.

'We'll have to go over the fence, then.' He husded her into the woods beside the gate and made a stirrup with his hands, then practically threw her over the fence. She landed in a pile of leaves, and a moment later, he joined her. She was laughing.

'I'm sorry, this is so ridiculous,' she said.

'We'll laugh about it later,' Stone said, taking her hand and starting to run. They made it to the rear of the house, and Stone looked into the living room. 'All clear,' he said. 'Now here's what you do: Go into your room, brush your hair, then go into Vance's study, looking ill. You don't feel well at all. Let me do the talking.'

She nodded, then ran into the house and through the living room, toward the master suite.

Stone took a couple of deep breaths, made sure there were no leaves stuck to his clothes, then went into the study. Durkee and Bryant were drinking coffee and looking at Vance's Oscars, while Manolo stood, watching them.

'Afternoon, gentlemen, what can I do for you?'

'We're here to see Mrs. Calder,' Durkee said.

Manolo spoke up. 'I let Mrs. Calder know the gendemen are here, Mr. Barrington. She'll be out shortly.'

'Thank you, Manolo, that's all.' He took a chair. 'So, to what do we owe the honor of your visit?'

'We just want to see Mrs. Calder,' Durkee said.