Stone Barrington 06-11

it becomes necessary.”
    “I think you’re right about my presence being a red flag; the media would play that big. Here’s what we do. I don’t so much as even speak to Arrington, unless we find out she’s going to be arrested.”
    “I might be able to get advance notice of that, if it happens.”
    “Good. If you do, I surrender her to the D.A. I can arrange that. From then on, I’m her lawyer, not you; I’m running the case.”
    Stone shook his head. “If it comes to that, I’ll want to be involved every step of the way.”
    “That’s not how I work.”
    “Then I can only thank you for your time,” Stone said.
    Blumberg thought for a moment. “What do you want?”
    “Second chair; partner in decision-making; no move without my agreement.”
    “All right,” Blumberg said. “Are you licensed in California?”
    “No.”
    “I’ll deal with that. I’ll want a hundred-thousand-dollar retainer up front, against a half-million-dollar fee, the remainder payable before the trial starts.”
    “To include all your expenses,” Stone said.
    “Agreed. If I can stop it before it goes to trial, I’ll bill her at a thousand dollars an hour.”
    “To include your associates and staff.”
    “Done.” Blumberg held out his hand, and Stone shook it.
    “I’ll draft a letter appointing you and get a check drawn, immediately after any arrest.”
    “When is Arrington returning home?”
    “Tomorrow, I think.”
    “Where are you living while you’re here?”
    “In the Calders’ guesthouse.”
    “I don’t want the two of you to spend so much as a single night under the same roof. Move out before she gets home.”
    “All right.”
    Blumberg looked at his watch and stood up. “I’ve got to run,” he said.
    “One thing, Marc,” Stone said. “I don’t want you to mention this to anybody —staff, wife— anybody .”
    “That goes without saying,” Blumberg replied.
    Stone walked him to his car. “Thanks for coming,” he said.
    “Don’t worry about a thing,” Blumberg said breezily. “I’ll get her off.”
    Stone waved good-bye, then went to his own car. You probably will, he thought, but I hope to God it doesn’t come to that.
    He went back to his desk, called Dolce again and got the same message. It only made him angrier. He was glad to be having some company tonight.

Fifteen

    S TONE AND BETTY SAT AT A GOOD TABLE AT SPAGO BEVERLY Hills. “I remember when this was another restaurant,” he said. “I had lunch here a couple of times, in the garden.”
    “I’ll give you a little Beverly Hills gossip,” Betty said. “You know why the old place failed, after many years as a success?”
    “Tell me.”
    “The story is, a group of prominent wives were having lunch here, when they overheard the owner make an anti-Semitic remark. They told their friends, their friends told their friends, and within two weeks, the place was empty. It went out of business not long afterward.”
    “I’ll bet you’re full of Beverly Hills gossip,” Stone said.
    “You bet I am.”
    “Then tell me, was Vance sleeping with Charlene Joiner?”
    Betty smiled. “What do you know about Charlene Joiner?”
    “Just what I read in the papers during the presidential campaign. She had once had an affair with Will Lee, back when he was first running for the Senate, and the Republicans tried to make something of it.”
    “Well, let me tell you: Charlene is some piece of work. She has cut a swath through the rich and powerful in this town, and she has done it very cleverly, choosing her partners carefully, as much for their discretion as for what they can do for her career.”
    “Sounds like a smart girl.”
    “Smart, and from what I can glean, spectacular in the sack, in a town where outstanding is ordinary.”
    “But was Vance sleeping with her?”
    Betty toyed with her drink.
    “I don’t think it would be disloyal of you to tell me.”
    “Yes, I know; Vance is dead, but sometimes I feel as though he’s just on location, or something, and that he might walk into the bungalow at any moment.”
    “If you feel you’d be betraying a confidence, I understand.”
    “This has something to do with Arrington, doesn’t it?” she asked.
    “It might, before this is all over. It’s important that I know whether this is just a rumor, or if it’s true.”
    Stone looked up to see a lush-looking brunette in her midthirties walk up to their table. She was fashionably dressed, coiffed, and made up, and Stone thought