Swimming to Catalina (6 page)
Betty spoke up. “Arlene, you know Vance is a very private person.”
“Shy, you could say.”
“You could say. I’d think you’d be pleased to be the first reporter in this house for years.”
“Well, there was the
Architectural Digest
piece last year, wasn’t there?”
“It’s hardly the same thing.”
Stone took Betty’s arm and guided her away. “Arlene, would you excuse us for just a moment? There’s something I have to discuss with Betty.”
“Sure,” Michaels replied.
Stone made sure his back was to the woman. “I understand that L.A. parties end early.”
“Always,” Betty said. “It’s an early town; everybody is at work at the crack of dawn.”
“Do you think you and I could have a drink somewhere later?”
“All right, but I have to be at work early, too. Let’s meet at the bar in the Bel-Air Hotel,” she said.
“Fine.”
“Now, we’d better rejoin Arlene; we don’t want her to go away miffed.”
They turned back to the woman and found her gone. She’d cornered Vance, and he was saved only by the tinkling of a silver bell.
“Dinner is served,” the Filipino butler called out.
The crowd, which had grown since Stone had arrived, moved out of the rear doors to a wide terrace, where tables of eight had been set. Stone looked at the place cards and found his seat, between Barbara Sturmack and a man who appeared, like Stone, to be alone. He helped Mrs. Sturmack with her chair, then turned to meet the man next to him.
“I’m Onofrio Ippolito,” the man said. He was shorter than Stone, heavily built without being fat, with thick, short salt-and-pepper hair.
“I’m Stone Barrington.” They shook hands.
“What brings you out here, Mr. Barrington?” the man asked.
“Just visiting friends,” Stone replied.
“That’s not what I heard,” Ippolito said.
Stone was about to ask what he’d heard when Barbara Stunnack tugged at his sleeve and began introducing him to others seated at the table. Stone never did resume his conversation with Ippolito.
When dinner was finished, they rose to go into the house for coffee, and Stone found David Sturmack walking alongside him. “Could I have a word with you alone?” he asked.
“Of course,” Stone replied and allowed himself to be steered into what he thought must be Vance’s study, a medium-sized room paneled in antique pine, with many fine pictures on the walls. When they were comfortably seated, Sturmack began.
“Stone, I do a great deal of business on the West Coast and some business in New York. I’m considering changing my legal representation in the city, and I wondered if you might be interested in representing me?”
“That’s very flattering, Mr. Sturmack—”
“David, please.”
“David. What sort of business do you do in New York?”
“Some real estate; I have interests in a couple of restaurants, and I may want to develop more with some friends; I invest in businesses; I buy, I sell; occasionally I litigate something. I’m a lawyer myself by training, but I haven’t practiced in years.”
“I should tell you that I don’t have any extensive experience in real estate and none at all in restaurants.”
“I’m aware of that; I spoke at some length with a Mr. William Eggers at Woodman and Weld this afternoon. He says that since you’re of counsel to his firm, they’d be willing to lend backup support and expertise in various specialties as needed.”
Stone was off balance; he hadn’t expected this. “Who represents you at the moment?”
“My principal attorneys are Hyde, Tyson,
McElhenny and Wade, but I’ve been contemplating a move for some time.”
“What sort of billing have they experienced with you?”
“In excess of a million dollars a year. Of course, you’d have to take care of Woodman and Weld, but all the billing would be through you, and I imagine you’d be able to hang on to most of the fees. Also, there would be opportunities to invest some of your fees in various ventures, at an extremely good rate of return.”
“Mr. Sturmack, may I be frank?”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“You and I have met only this evening; you know little about me or my skills; why do you want me to represent you?”
“Stone, I know a great deal more about you than you think: I know about your record with the NYPD, I know about the major cases you’ve handled, and I know about how you handle yourself”
“You must understand that Woodman and Weld make some demands on my time, and it’s an association I value; I couldn’t undertake to represent you as my only client.”
“Of course I understand that, Stone. I’m not making this offer off the top of my head.”
“You don’t seem the sort of man who would do that,” Stone said.
“You’re right. Understand, a great deal of what I want from a lawyer is his personal skills—the way he handles himself in a situation. I like to avoid litigation when possible, but I like to get my way, too.”
Stone smiled. “All clients do. David, I really don’t think I can give you an answer immediately. Of course, your proposal is extremely attractive, but I
think I’d have to talk with Bill Eggers about it, preferably in person, and I expect to be here for another week, maybe longer.”
“Of course. Tell you what: I’m jammed up for the next few days, but I expect to be in New York late next week. Why don’t you and I sit down and talk about it then. I’ll gather some specifics on my current situation, and we can discuss the workload.”
“That sounds very good.” They exchanged cards, shook hands, and rejoined the other guests.
Over coffee, Stone exchanged a glance with Betty Southard and nodded toward the door. She smiled and nodded, and after a moment, he said his goodbyes to his host and left, a minute behind her.
S
tone pulled into the Bel-Air parking lot and surrendered the car. In the lobby, he had to ask where the bar was. The room surprised him; it was more English than Californian, darkly paneled, with a blazing fire in a handsome fireplace. He found Betty already seated on a small sofa near the fireplace, a waiter hovering nearby; it was only a little after ten, but there were few people in the room.
He sat down beside her and ordered a brandy. “Thanks for coming; I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk more at the party.”
“Oh, it was my job to shepherd Arlene, the journalist, around the place; Vance didn’t want her talking to any one person for too long. He was very nervous about having her there at all; I still can’t figure out why he wanted her, and he wouldn’t tell me when I asked.”
“I’m sure he had his reasons,” Stone said, a little uncomfortable with knowing something she didn’t. “Does he confide in you about everything?”
“Not necessarily; it’s just that I work so closely with him that it’s hard to hide anything.” She smiled. “Say, you were quite a hit at the party.”
Stone squirmed in his seat. “Aren’t they that nice to everybody?”
She shook her head. “Normally, an out-of-town lawyer at a party like that would find himself talking to the wallpaper.”
“So how come I’m so popular?”
“You’re a handsome man they’ve read about in the papers, you’re younger than most of the other men there, and you’re the personal guest in town of their host, who is a major movie star.”
“And what was all that about the screen test?”
“Have you
seen
the test?”
“Yes. I found it excruciating.”
She laughed. “I saw it in a room with a dozen secretaries who’d heard about it, and there was a heavy scent of vaginal juices in the air.”
“Stop it!” he groaned.
“I believe you really are embarrassed,” she said, surprised.
“The whole thing is humiliating.”
“Forgive me; I’m accustomed to actors, any one of whom would have understood immediately what that test meant to his future in this town.”
“I don’t have a future in this town.”
“You do if you want it.”
“That’s what Fred Swims said,” Stone replied disconsolately.
“Come on, Stone, cheer up! It’s not as though you’re being tarred and feathered and ridden out of town on a rail. You’re having a moment in the limelight; enjoy it! Most men would be jumping up and down with glee!”
Stone laughed. “I suppose you’re right, but it’s a lot more than I’m accustomed to. I’m a bit at sea.”
She put a hand on his cheek. “What is it, baby?” she asked as if talking to a small child.
“Well, the test is pretty strange,” he said. “Then there’s the party tonight.”
“What about the party?”
“Look, I’m in town for hardly more than twenty-four hours, and I get a screen test and a part in a movie for very nice money. Then an agent—apparently a top one—wants to represent me, and then…” He stopped himself.
“Go on.”
“Here we get into a confidential area.”
“Most of my job is keeping Vance’s secrets; I suppose I can keep yours, too.”
“What do you know about David Sturmack?”
She shrugged. “He’s very important in these parts—behind the scenes, mostly.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, you never see anything in the trades about how Sturmack made this deal or even made a movie, but you hear stories…”
“What sort of stories?”
“Did you see Vance’s movie
Parting Time
?”
“Yes, a long time ago.”
“Vance wasn’t supposed to be in that movie; he was under contract to another big studio, and they wouldn’t release him. Story is, Sturmack made one phone call and ten minutes later, Vance was in
Parting Time.
It got him his first Academy Award, and the picture did half a billion dollars worldwide. A lot of informed opinion says that the picture would have tanked without Vance. So you see the kind of power
that Sturmack can wield in a single phone call.”
“How did he come by all this power?”
“He had something to do with the unions.”
“What unions?”
“The craft unions, the ones that have all the technicians in the business as members. He got a reputation early on for solving the most difficult contract negotiations—he represented at least two of the unions, I forget which ones. That’s really about all I know about him, except that he and Vance are very close. I can tell better than anybody who Vance is really close to by the way he responds to their telephone calls. He drops
everything
when Dave Sturmack calls. The only other person who gets that kind of attention from Vance is Lou Regenstein. And right now, you.”
“Me?”
“You’re on the hot list right now.”
“You mean, for the moment.”
“Nobody stays on Vance’s hot list forever, but right now, you’re up there.” She frowned. “Why is that, Stone?”
“Beats me,” Stone replied.
“Yeah, sure. I know it’s something to do with Arrington, but I can’t figure out what.”
“I haven’t spoken to Arrington for months.” Not many months, he thought, but months.
“You’re not going to tell me, huh?”
He shrugged. “I’m a lawyer, Betty; some things have to remain…”
She patted his hand. “I understand. I operate under pretty much the same strictures. When you work for somebody like Vance, confidentiality is currency. If Vance suddenly clutched his chest and turned blue, half the town would be trying to hire me before the
paramedics arrived. But if I talked out of turn about Vance…”
“I understand,” he said.
“Then we both understand.” She smiled. It was sowthing she did well.
“Will you give me some advice?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“Should I actually do this part in the movie?”
She placed a hand on her chest. “Good God! If you don’t, Lou Regenstein will have a stroke. Mind you, he strokes very quietly: he’ll lift an eyebrow and you won’t ever get a dinner table in this town again.”
“So I’m stuck?”
She put her hand back on his cheek. “Don’t take it so hard, baby; it’s only fame and fortune. Most men would jump at the chance.” She lowered her voice. “And most men would have propositioned me by now.”
“You are bold, miss.”
“By this time tomorrow, any woman on the Centurion lot can be yours; I figure I’d better hurry.”
“I live near here.”
“Show me.”
Stone signed the check, and they left the bar and walked through the cool evening toward his suite. She put her hand in his, but neither of them said anything. Along with the scent of frangipani, there was anticipation in the air.
The suite was softly lighted, and she went straight to the bedroom, dropping articles of clothing along the way. A message envelope had been pushed under the door; Stone couldn’t think about that now. He dropped it on the bedside table and started working on his own buttons.
She was naked first. “Leave the lights on,” she said, stripping the bedcover and top sheet off the bed.
He followed instructions.
She stretched out on the bare bed and clasped her hands behind her neck. Her tan ran from top to bottom without interruption, something he wasn’t accustomed to seeing in New York.
“Me first,” she said.
He started with her breasts and worked his way down. She kept her hands clasped behind her neck until he hit bottom, then her fingers were in his hair, pulling, while she made little noises.
After a while, it was his turn. It was worth the wait.
S
tone woke slowly, at first disoriented in the strange room. The bed was a wreck, with covers everywhere, and he was alone. He stretched and thought about the night before, which was indeed a pleasant memory, then jumped as the phone rang. The bedside clock said six-thirty. He grabbed the phone.
“Hello?”
“It’s Bill Eggers; why didn’t you call me last night? I was up half the night waiting.”
“Why, Bill, I didn’t know you cared.”
“Didn’t you get my message?”
“Oh,” Stone said, ripping open the little envelope. It read:
CALL ME TONIGHT, NO MATTER HOW LATE.
“Sorry, Bill, I was preoccupied, I guess, and I didn’t even read it.”
“How the hell did you get to know David Sturmack?”
“I met him at a dinner party last night, at Vance Calder’s house.”
