Stone Barrington 06-11

if I may,” she said.
    Her accent was southern, and Stone remembered that she was from the same small Georgia town, Delano, as Betty Southard.
    “This is probably not the best time,” Stone replied. “I’m staying at Vance’s bungalow at the studio. You can reach me there.”
    “I’ll call over the weekend,” she said, then turned and went to her car.

    After the service, Stone drove Arrington, Peter, and her mother home to Bel-Air. All the way, he wondered what Charlene Joiner could possibly have to say to him.
    Later, he met Vance’s accountant at the Calders’ bank, where he signed a very large note on Arrington’s behalf and drew a number of cashier’s checks. Now he was ready for the district attorney.

Twenty-four

    O N SATURDAY MORNING, STONE ARRIVED AT THE BEL-Air house, entering through the utility entrance, as usual. Marc Blumberg arrived moments later, and since Arrington was not quite ready, they had a moment to talk.
    “Where do we stand on bail?” Blumberg asked.
    Stone took an envelope from his pocket. “First of all,” he said, handing Blumberg a check, “here is your one-hundred-thousand-dollar retainer.”
    “Thank you very much,” Blumberg said, pocketing the check.
    Stone displayed the remaining contents of the envelope. “I also have a cashier’s check for five million dollars, made out to the court, and five others for a million each, so we can handle any amount of bail up to ten million dollars immediately. If more is required, I can write checks on Arrington’s account for another five million.”
    “I like a lawyer who comes prepared,” Blumberg said. “Now, at this meeting, I don’t want you to say anything at all.”
    Stone shrugged. “All right.”
    “It may get rough, and you may feel the need to come to Arrington’s rescue, but allow me to make the decision as to when that becomes necessary. If we can get through this questioning without either of us having to speak, then we’ll have won our point.”
    “I understand. If they arrest her, though, she’s going to have to spend the weekend in jail. We’re not going to get a judge for a bail hearing on a Saturday.”
    “Let me worry about that,” Blumberg said. “And if, for any reason, we can’t get bail, I’ll arrange for her to be segregated at the county jail.”
    Arrington walked into the room, wearing a simple black suit and carrying a small suitcase. “Good morning, all,” she said, and held up the bag. “I’ve brought a few things, in case I have to stay.”
    Stone was relieved that he had not had to suggest that to her.
    “Let’s go, then,” Blumberg said. “I’ve hired a limo to take us all in comfort. We’ll go out the back way, and we’ll enter the courthouse through the basement parking lot.”
    The three of them joined Blumberg’s associate, Liz Raymond, in the long black car and departed the property by way of the utility gate, unobserved. The ride to the courthouse was very quiet.
    On reaching the courthouse, they drove into the underground garage and stopped at the elevators, where detectives Durkee and Bryant were waiting.
    “Hello, Sam, Ted,” Blumberg said, shaking their hands. Stone ignored them.
    The group rode upstairs in the elevator, walked down a hallway, and entered a large conference room, where the district attorney and two of his assistants, a man and a woman, awaited, along with a stenographer. Blumberg introduced the D.A., Dan Reeves, and the two A.D.A.s, Bill Marshall, who was black, and Helen Chu, who was Asian. No hands were shaken.
    “Please be seated,” Reeves said, and they all sat down around the table.
    “As I understand it,” Reeves said, “you are here to surrender Mrs. Calder.”
    Blumberg held up a hand. “Before any charge is made, I request that you question my client. It’s my belief that, when you are done, you will see that an arrest is unnecessary.”
    “All right; do you have any objection to a steno-graphic record being made?”
    “None whatsoever. I’d also like to volunteer my client for a polygraph; you choose the examiner.”
    “Yes, I saw your press conference,” Reeves said dryly. “Shall we begin?”
    “By all means.”
    Reeves dictated the names of those present and started to ask his first question, but Blumberg interrupted.
    “I’d like the record to show that my client is here voluntarily and is willing to answer all questions.”
    “So noted,” the D.A. said. “Mrs. Calder, you understand you are here