Stone Barrington 36 - Scandalous Behavior (15 page)

“That’s fascinating,” Peter said as he dismounted and tied his reins to a bush. “I think I can use that story.”

Stone tied his horse, and they tried the door to the house. It was unlocked, and they walked in. Stone had expected a hovel, and he was surprised to see how well the space was used and how neat the place was. It was, essentially, one room; there was a kitchenette in a corner, a woodstove, a small desk, and a single comfortable chair. There were built-in bookcases holding volumes that seemed mostly about military history. There was a tiny cupboard that held some military uniforms and a Squadron
mess kit, along with some rougher clothing, and a sleeping loft had been built at one end, with a small bathroom underneath.

“This is what I call simple living,” Peter said. “I don’t think I could ever get along with so few possessions.”

“Nor I,” Stone said, “but I admire him for doing it. I think it must be part of his penance for the behavior that ruined his career.”

“What did the police think was the brigadier’s motive for killing Richard Curtis?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know, and the police inspector never mentioned one. His suicide seemed to bring the investigation to a screeching halt, and when I last spoke to Inspector Holmes, I thought I detected a note of relief in his voice.”

“Are you going to seek out a new hermit for the place?”

“No, I think I’ll wait and see if one comes to me.”

They had a look around the exterior and found a shed containing a couple of chain saws and some hand tools.

“He earned his keep here as a woodcutter,” Stone explained to Peter.

They went back to their horses and mounted up, then rode on. As they passed within sight of the airfield, a twin-engine Piper Navajo came in and touched down, and Sir Charles and the new Lady Bourne got out, as Stan arrived with the Land Rover.

Stone rode over to meet them and introduced Peter. “I hope the honeymoon went well,” he said. Charles, he thought, looked a little tired and perhaps a bit thinner, but then, the groom was supposed to be worn out after the honeymoon.

“We had a wonderful time, Stone,” Elizabeth said, “and Marie was very kind to us, as well. We can’t thank you enough.”

They got into the Land Rover and drove toward Charles’s cottage, and the airplane started up, took off, and headed south, toward France.

Stone and Peter rode on, passing the cemetery and the Norman church beyond. They had a good view of Curtis Hall from there.

“Why don’t we jump that wall and ride around the Curtis estate?” Peter asked.

“I think it would be more neighborly to ask permission first,” Stone said, and as they watched, Lady Curtis came out the front door with four people who, somehow, looked American. She waved at Stone and Peter, and they waved back, then she beckoned to them and waved her arm in a sweep, as if to say, “Come ride on my property.”

They jumped the horses over the wall and walked on, as the group got into a limousine and drove away, passing a few yards ahead of their path.

“They looked American,” Peter said.

“I thought so, too,” Stone replied, “and the tall one looked like pictures I’ve seen of Dr. Don Beverly Calhoun.”

“Oh, shit,” Peter said.

26

T
hey spent a good two hours covering the whole of the Curtis estate, which was indeed larger than Stone’s property, and then they rode along the Beaulieu River toward the dock of Windward Hall. Stone’s cell phone vibrated.

“Hello?”

“It’s Felicity.”

“I know what you’re going to tell me.”

“Okay, what?”

“That Dr. Don Beverly Calhoun somehow got into the country.”

“How could you know that?”

“Because I just saw him leaving Curtis Hall.”

“He flew private, into Biggin Hill.”

“I figured.”

“We didn’t cover private airfields; there are too many.”

“I figured. Why don’t you get your friend the Home Secretary to throw him out of the country?”

“Oh, no, it’s easy to block someone from entering, and that way, you deny him the media, but arresting and deporting him is much more complicated and could even be appealed, and we’d have the papers and TV all over us.”

“I see your point.”

“Did you actually see Calhoun and Glynnis together?”

“I saw her saying goodbye to him and three others, then they got into a limo and passed within a few yards of us.”

“Did they look as though they had concluded a deal?”

“Oh, come on, Felicity, what sort of look is that?”

“Oh, all right, I’ll call her. Goodbye.”

Stone hung up. “The river runs down to the Solent,” he said to Peter. “Very convenient for boating.”

“Are you going to get a boat?”

“I don’t have a crew—maybe a powerboat.”

“Another Hinckley?”

“That’s a good thought—it could be shipped to Southampton. I’m not really in the mood to research British boats. I’d know what I’m getting with a Hinckley.”

“Good. The next time we visit, I’ll expect a Hinckley ride.”

“It sounds to me as though you’re going to be spending the rest of the year here, and why not? You can finish your script, do a deal with a British production house for a crew and equipment,
and get your casting done. What sort of schedule are you thinking about?”

“I’ll have to work it up. We’ll need to finish the script, do production drawings, and run it by the studio. Then preproduction and a few weeks of shooting. We’d want to do postproduction at home, since we have all the equipment in our offices. I think we could be ready for release in December, in time for Academy Awards qualification and screenings.”

“Sounds like you’ve given it a lot of thought.”

“I’ve hardly thought about anything else. It would be a new experience, having a film go from inspiration to completion so quickly.”

“Maybe I’ll figure out a way to get my New York work done over here. I’d love to watch your film happen. I’d promise not to get in the way.”

“Nonsense, you’ve been nothing but helpful. This film wouldn’t have happened but for you.”

“You sound as if it’s already made.”

—

T
hey were back at Windward Hall in time for tea in the library, which turned out to be more of a production meeting, as Peter brought Ben and Billy up to date on what he’d seen and planned.

Felicity called again. “It’s all right, Glynnis hasn’t accepted the Calhoun offer yet.”

“Swell.”

“You don’t sound pleased.”

“It’s nothing to do with me.”

“So you’re looking forward to having Dr. Don and his tribe as neighbors?”

“You have a point.”

“You’d better get interested.”

“I’ll think about it, I promise.”

“That’s all I ask.”

“The hell it is. You won’t be happy until I’ve written another enormous check.”

“You know me so well.” She hung up.

—

T
he following day Stone was about to sit down for lunch when Susan Blackburn called. “Are you sitting down?”

“Oh, God.”

“My hotelier prospective client has not the slightest interest in having a country hotel in his portfolio of properties.”

“He sounds like me.”

“All too much. In thinking about this, though, it occurred to me that we both know another hotelier.”

“And who would that be?”

“You.”

“Me, a hotelier?”

“You’re building your third in Rome right now.”

“That’s Marcel. I’m just a kibitzer.”

“Well, kibitz your way into getting Marcel aboard.”

Stone thought about that.

“I take your silence as consideration.”

“Oh, all right, I’ll call him.”

“I’d like to hear the result of that conversation quite soon.”

“I’ll call him now.” Stone said goodbye, then dialed Marcel duBois’s number in Rome.

“Pronto.”

“You sound very Italian.”

“Stone! How are you?”

“Very well, thank you. I’m in England, where I’ve bought a country place.”

“Word has reached me. Is it beautiful?”

“Very. Have you ever thought of having a country Arrington?”

“Oh, yes, I’ve looked in France, but I haven’t found the right place.”

“I believe I may have found the right place in England, and right next door to me.” He told Marcel about Curtis House.

“That sounds very interesting.”

“There’s a landing field on my property. Why don’t you hop over here tomorrow and see the place?”

“Tomorrow? I can do that.”

“And stay the night with me—longer, if you can.”

“One night, perhaps.”

Stone gave him the landing particulars. “I’ll see you tomorrow, around ten
AM
, then.”

“I look forward.”

27

S
tone called Susan. “All right, I’ve taken your suggestion: Marcel is coming tomorrow, which means you have to come down tonight so we can give him a tour of the Curtis estate early in the day.”

“I can do that,” Susan said.

He hung up and called Felicity, explained things to her, and asked her to tell Glynnis to expect callers in the morning. He hung up feeling the first twinges of excitement about Curtis House.

—

M
arcel and Lady Curtis got on immediately and well. She showed them the house, top to bottom, while Susan took photographs with a digital camera, and there followed another
lunch in the conservatory. After coffee, Marcel begged to have a moment alone with Stone. “You say she has an offer for twenty-two million pounds?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll offer her twenty-two million five?”

“Good.”

“To include the furnishings?”

“We can ask. If she doesn’t go for that, we can have Susan go through the house and designate pieces for us to make an offer on.”

“Agreed.”

They went back into the conservatory. “Lady Curtis,” Marcel said, “I am pleased to offer you twenty-two million, five hundred thousand pounds for your house and its contents.”

Lady Curtis didn’t bat an eye. “I will accept your offer, but excluding the art in the drawing room, the library, and the master suite.”

Marcel glanced at Stone and got a tiny nod. “Done.” He stood up and took her hand. “I will have a contract and a check for ten percent of the purchase price in your hands tomorrow morning, and we will close as quickly as our respective lawyers will allow us.”

“Oh, good,” she said.

Marcel gave her hand a kiss, and they were gone.

“I don’t believe it,” Susan said when they were in the car. “Do you always do business so quickly?”

“Delay and doubt are always partners,” Marcel replied. “And you will be our designer for the Curtis Arrington?”

“I will be delighted. I have enough photos to begin work tomorrow.”

“I have a thought,” Stone said. He told her about Peter’s desire to work in England until his film was done. “We have a dozen unoccupied staff bedrooms at Windward Hall,” he said. “The staff, over the years, has moved either into the cottages or into Beaulieu. Why don’t you make your first design job converting those rooms into work space for Peter’s crowd and for you? The two of you can collaborate.”

“And I will turn the servants’ rooms at Curtis House into hotel rooms,” Marcel said. “If we include the cottages, we’ll have forty-odd guest rooms to sell.”

“I’m going to have to start hiring those people your firm recommended, Stone,” Susan said. “And I’m going to make an offer on the building in Wandsworth for our shops. I’ve had a word with my bankers already.”

“You know,” Stone said, “a month ago none of this was real. Now we’re going to be giving work to a couple of hundred talented people for the rest of the year, at least, and early next year there will be a record on film of what we did.”

“It’s breathtaking,” Susan said.

The news of the acquisition of Curtis House was met with glee by Peter and his entourage, and a celebratory dinner was instantly arranged.

Stone called Felicity. “It’s done,” he said.

“I know, I’ve already talked to Glynnis.”