Swimming to Catalina

With my help.”
    “And how could you help our stock to go up?” Ippolito asked.
    “By helping you gain control of CenturionStudios,” Stone replied. He was improvising, but he had their attention.
    “And how could you possibly do that?”
    Sturmack seemed to have regained control of himself. “This is ridiculous,” he said to Ippolito. “Kill him now; have Tommy and Zip take him somewhere and shoot him. We don’t need this.”
    Ippolito held up a hand and silenced him. “Easy, David; let’s hear what Mr. Barrington has to say.” He turned his attention to Stone. “You were about to tell us how you could be helpful in acquiring Centurion.”
    “Well, for a start, I can deliver Vance Calder’s shares to you, for a price, of course. I can also deliver his services to Safe Harbor as a television spokesman.”
    “And how will you accomplish those things?” Ippolito asked.
    “Let’s just say that Mr. Calder and I have reached an understanding; he values my advice.”
    “You’re an interesting man, Mr. Barrington,” Ippolito said. “I know something about you, of course; in fact, just about everything there is to know. I know, for instance, that you have something over a million dollars in marketable securities in your brokerage account, so you can afford to invest in Albacore. And if you could arrange the exchange of Mr. Calder’s Centurion stock for Albacore stock, I might let you buy in.”
    “Oh, I can do better than that, Mr. Ippolito,” Stone said. “I can arrange for you to buy Mr. Calder’s stock for cash, and at a reasonable price. No need to give him Albacore stock when that stock is going to go through the roof.”
    “Now that is interesting,” Ippolito said.
    “In fact, I can help you buy nearly all, perhaps all ofCenturion’s stock, including Louis Regenstein’s shares.”
    “You amaze me, Mr. Barrington. How did you suddenly acquire all this influence?”
    “I have replaced Billy O’Hara in Mr. Regenstein’s affections,” Stone said.
    “That’s what I came to tell you, Oney,” Sturmack interjected. “Regenstein fired O’Hara yesterday, and I haven’t been able to find him.”
    Stone had an idea. “You won’t find him,” he said.
    “Why not?” Ippolito asked.
    “Because Mr. O’Hara expired last night, during a conversation I was having with him. He’s where you believed me to be.”
    “He’s dead?”
    “Regrettably, yes.”
    “And you killed him?”
    “Not until he had told me everything he knew about you and your plans for Centurion—also about the murders of Vincent Mancuso and Manolo Lobianco.”
    Ippolito thought about that for a moment, then he stood up, walked to the window, and beckoned for Stone to join him.
    Stone walked over, stood next to Ippolito, and looked out at the view.
    Ippolito put a hand on Stone’s shoulder and pointed. “There’s Centurion Studios,” he said, indicating a large mass of land and buildings a few miles away. “And over there is Century City, one of the most successful real estate developments in the history of Los Angeles. What I’m going to do is to build something twice as large and twice as valuable. It’s going to make billions of dollars over the next ten years or so, and a very select group of people are going to be allowed to participate in that. Is that what interests you, Mr. Barrington?”

    “Yes,” Stone replied, “it is.” And as he spoke he saw something besides the view outside Ippolito’s window. He had changed his focus, because something much closer had caught his eye. He leaned slightly toward the window and concentrated. What he saw was, imbedded in the tinted glass, a screen of tiny wires, smaller than human hairs. He suddenly understood that the radio signal from the transmitter he wore was not going to be heard outside this office.
    Ippolito returned to his seat and motioned for Stone to return to his.
    “And I think I can tell you how you’re going to finance all this,” Stone said, mindful that the tape recorder in the heel of his other shoe was still operational.
    “Please do,” Ippolito said.
    “You’re somehow laundering—I haven’t quite figured out how—millions, perhaps billions of dollars in income from loan sharking, drugs, and probably casino skimming, considering Mr. Sturmack’s connections in Las Vegas, and you’re pumping it into Albacore, then using the laundered money for acquisitions like Centurion. How much more land have you bought up around the