Stone Barrington 06-11

surprised that Arrington’s questioning had been so brief, and that no further evidence against her had been offered.
    “Mrs. Calder,” the district attorney said, “you are under arrest on a charge of second-degree murder. Please stand up.”
    Arrington stood, and the two police detectives began to handcuff her.

Twenty-five

    O N SUNDAY MORNING, STONE GOT UP AND WENT OUT for the papers. He’d have to arrange daily delivery, he thought. The studio, ordinarily a hive of activity, was dead on a Sunday. He drove through the empty streets, inquired of the guard at the gate where to get a paper, and for his trouble was rewarded with a New York Times and a Los Angeles Times .
    “We get a few delivered for folks who are working over the weekend,” the guard said.
    Stone returned to the bungalow, and as he entered, the phone was ringing. He picked it up.
    “Stone Barrington?”
    “Yes.”
    “This is Charlene Joiner.”
    “Good morning.”
    “As I mentioned at the funeral, I’d like to get together with you; I have some information you might find interesting.”
    “All right,” Stone said.
    “Why don’t you come to lunch? There’ll be some other people here, but we can find a moment to talk.”
    “Thank you, I will,” Stone replied.
    “Do you know the Malibu Colony?”
    “Yes, I’ve been to the Calder house there.”
    “I’m six doors down,” she said. She gave him the house number. “One o’clock, and California casual.”
    “See you then.” He hung up, wondering what information she might have for him and what “California casual” meant.
    Betty had left Danish pastries in the fridge for him; he made himself some coffee and spent the morning reading the papers. The L.A. paper had a front-page story about Arrington’s arrest, while the New York paper had a blurb on the front page and an inside story—this seemed to be the standard coverage. Marc Blumberg had issued a press release, detailing Arrington’s willingness to answer all questions. “I don’t expect this to go to trial,” he said, “if the LAPD does its job, but should it do so, Mrs. Calder will testify without fear of any question.”
    Stone thought that was immoderate; things might change before the trial, and they might not want her to testify. Still, it sounded good now, and helped create the impression that Arrington had nothing to fear from a trial. He was troubled by the D.A.’s reluctance to disclose the evidence against her. Normally, they would use the press to reinforce the idea that they had a strong case.
    He passed through the Malibu Colony gate a little after one, then drove to Charlene Joiner’s house. A uniformed maid opened the door for him and took him out to a rear terrace. Charlene and another woman were sitting beside the pool, talking, both wearing swimsuits. Charlene stood up, wrapped a colorful sarong skirt around her lower body, and came to greet him, hand out.
    “Hello, Stone,” she said, taking his hand and leading him toward the other woman. “This is Ilsa Berends,” she said.
    Stone recognized the actress from her films. She was in her early forties, he thought, but in wonderful shape. “How do you do, Miss Berends,” he said. “I’ve enjoyed your work in films.” He turned to Charlene. “Yours, too. In fact I saw one on the airplane from Milan.”
    “You were in Milan recently?” Berends asked.
    “Venice, really; I flew out of Milan.”
    “Vacation?” Charlene asked.
    “Sort of,” Stone replied. He turned to see another woman arriving, and she was another recognizable actress, though he could not remember her name. Five minutes later, two more arrived.
    Charlene introduced everyone. “I’m afraid you’re going to be in the middle of a hen party,” she said. “You’re our only man.”
    “The pleasure is mine,” Stone replied. A houseman brought everyone mimosas, and half an hour later, they sat down to lunch.
    The conversation was about L.A. matters—films, gossip, and shopping.
    “I understand you’re a friend of Arrington Calder,” Ilsa Berends said to Stone.
    It was the first question addressed to him by anyone. “That’s right,” Stone said.
    “I also hear you used to live together,” the actress said. This got everyone’s attention.
    “I think I’ll stand on attorney-client privilege,” Stone replied.
    Everyone laughed.
    “Were you there when Arrington was arrested?” another woman asked.
    “I was at the meeting at the D.A.’s office, where