Stuart Woods_Stone Barrington 21

kidnapped—someone wanted something from Vance, I forget what. I called him, and he denied the whole thing, and so did the police, so that was the end of it.
    “The last time I heard anything about her was a year or so ago when some L.A. developer took a run at Centurion. He wanted the back lot to build an office complex and hotel on, and Mrs. Calder opposed him and won. Vance had been buying stock in the studio since the early days and I hear owned at least a third of it.”
    “So Mrs. Calder inherited that?”
    “That and a great deal more. Vance was very smart and a very good businessman. He worked all the time, for big money, and he invested brilliantly, the way Bing Crosby and Bob Hope had done. I don’t think there was ever a richer actor in Hollywood. Some reports said he was worth more than a billion dollars.”
    “Wow. And then he was murdered.”
    “That’s right.”
    “Who killed him?”
    “Some woman he’d been having an affair with, I think. His wife was a suspect for a while, and she was dodging the police, but the thing was settled when the other woman committed suicide and left a note, as best I can recall.”
    “Are you acquainted with someone called Stone Barrington?” Kelli asked.
    “Lawyer, habitué of Elaine’s. I don’t go so much anymore.”
    “He was apparently involved in the investigation into Calder’s death.”
    “Oh? I don’t remember that.”
    “Was Mrs. Calder’s name Christine?”
    Wheaton shook her head. “No, not Christine. Funny, I can’t remember it now.”
    “Thank you, Miss Wheaton,” Kelli said, rising.
    “You’re a beautiful young thing,” Wheaton said. “Call me Prunie; everybody does.”
    “Thank you, Prunie.”
    “Come see me anytime.”
    Kelli thanked her again and went back to her desk. She got on her computer and went into the paper’s archives, business section, and started a search beginning a year before. “Centurion, Calder” brought up the headlines about the stock battle at the studio and Mrs. Calder’s part in it. She read the accounts without ever seeing Mrs. Calder’s first name, but then, at the very end was a short piece saying that Michael Freeman, chairman and CEO of Strategic Services, who had voted his stock with Mrs. Calder, and Stone Barrington, of the law firm of Woodman & Weld, had joined the board of directors of Centurion Studios.
    Kelli knew of Strategic Services as some giant security company that supplied bodyguards and armored cars to companies all over the world, and if the company was a major stockholder in Centurion, it made sense that Freeman might become a director. But Stone Barrington? He was a fixer for Woodman & Weld, who had been a partner for only a year. What was he doing on Centurion’s board?

27
    S tone and Arrington were having breakfast in bed when Peter appeared, wearing a parka over a sweater and jeans, and carrying a leather tote bag. “Good morning,” he said, “I’m off to school.”
    “Sweetheart,” Arrington said, “are you sure you don’t want us to drive you?”
    “Oh, come on, Mom, I’m way beyond that. I’ll get the bus and walk a couple of blocks. I can’t be seen arriving at the front door in a Bentley.”
    “He’s right, you know,” Stone said. “Did Joan give you your Metrocard, Peter?”
    “Yep, I’m all set.”
    “You need lunch money?”
    “You gave me a hundred bucks a few days ago. I haven’t eaten my way through that, yet.”
    “Okay, sport, go get ’em.”
    Peter gave them a little wave and left.
    “God,” Stone said, “I never thought I’d be sending a kid off to school.”
    Arrington laughed. “Thank your lucky stars that you never had to change his diapers.”
    “I thank my lucky stars.”
    “What are we doing for dinner?”
    “Meeting Dino and Ben at Elaine’s, what else?”
    “You’re right, what else?” she said.
     
     
    Kelli Keane and her friend from the mayor’s office, Bruce Sirowitz,  arrived at Elaine’s at eight-thirty, and were given a decent table along the main wall, but near the back of the restaurant.
    “Good work,” she said.
    “It’s not my first time here,” Bruce replied.
    They ordered drinks, and Kelli leaned out into the aisle and looked again at the tables up front. “They’re not here yet,” she said.
    “Who’s not here?”
    “Dino Bacchetti and Stone Barrington.”
    “Bacchetti from the Nineteenth Precinct? He’s one of the mayor’s favorite cops.”
    “He was at that wedding at