L.A. Dead

"What else was in the safe?"

"I remember who was having the di

"Did you enjoy the party?" Judson asked.

"I don't remember the party," she said.

"Arrington," Stone said, "does Vance own a gun?"

"I think so," she replied. "At least, he said he did. I've never seen a gun in the house."

"Do you know how to fire a gun?" Stone asked.

"My father taught me to fire a rifle, a twenty-two, when I was sixteen."

"Did he teach you to fire a pistol, too?"

She shook her head. "I don't think I've ever even held a pistol."

"Well," Dr. Judson said, "I think we've covered about enough for now."

"Is Peter all right?" Arrington asked.

"Your mother wants to take him back to Virginia with her for a visit."

"I think that's a good idea," Arrington said, nodding. "I want to say good-bye to him."

"Suppose you telephone him," the doctor said.

"Yes, I could do that." She turned to Stone. "Tell me the truth. I'm not crazy, and I want to know. Is Vance dead?"

"Yes," Stone replied. "I'm afraid he is."

She was silent, seeming to think hard. "Who's taking care of everything?" she asked finally.

"You mean the house? The servants are there."

"No, I mean, there has to be a funeral; things have to be done; decisions made. I don't know if I can do this."

"I'll help in any way I can," Stone said. He had intended to bring this up, himself.

"Oh, would you handle things, Stone? There are legal matters, too, I'm sure."

"Who is your lawyer?" Stone asked.

"You are, I guess; I don't have another one. Vance has one, but I can't think of his name."

"Would you like me to represent you both legally and personally?" Stone asked.

"Oh, yes, please, Stone. I'd feel so much better, if I knew you were handling everything."

"What about medical decisions?"

"I'll make those myself," she said. "Unless I'm not able to, then I'd like you to make those decisions, too."

Stone opened a hotel envelope and took out a sheaf of papers. "Dr. Judson, do you believe that Arrington is capable of making decisions about her affairs?"

"I don't see any reason why she shouldn't," the doctor replied.

"Do you have a notary public here?"

"My secretary," he said, picking up a phone.

The woman arrived shortly with her stamp.

Stone explained each of the documents to Arrington-a general power of attorney, a medical authorization, an agreement appointing him as her attorney, and a letter addressed, "To whom it may concern," stating that Stone had authority to act on her behalf in all matters, business and personal. When everything had been signed, notarized, and witnessed by the doctor, Stone kissed Arrington good-bye.

"I'll be back to see you tomorrow and bring you up to date on events," he said. "Why don't you call your mother now, and say goodbye to Peter?"

"All right. Stone, I'd like it very much if you would stay in our… my home; it would be comforting to know you are there. Manolo and the staff will make you comfortable in the guest house, and use the phones, the cars, anything you need."

"Thank you, I may do that," Stone said. "I'm going to go over there now and drive your mother and Peter to the airport. Will you tell her I'm on my way?"

"Yes, of course."

"Is there another way to the house besides through the front gate?"

"Yes, there's a service entrance about a hundred yards down the road, and there's a utility service road into the back of the property; you enter it from the street behind. I'll tell Manolo to open it for you.

"Thanks, that would be good." He kissed her again and left with the doctor. "What did you think, Jim?" Stone asked as they walked down the corridor.

"My diagnosis hasn't changed. She seems to remember something about that night, the thing about the jewelry; I'd like to know exactly when the conversation with the lawn man took place."

"So would I," Stone said. He thanked the doctor, then drove to Vance's house, entering through the utility road, where a servant stood waiting to close the gate behind him. He parked in a graveled area near the back door and went inside, where he was greeted by Manolo, the Filipino buder.

"It's good to see you again," Mr. Barrington.

"Thank you, Manolo," Stone replied. "I wish the circumstances were different. Mrs. Calder has suggested I move into the guest house."

"Yes, Mrs. Calder's mother passed on that message," Manolo said. "The guest house is all ready for you."

"I'm going to take Arrington's mother and Peter to the airport now, and after that I'll go back to the Bel-Air, return my rental car, and take a cab back here. Mrs. Barrington suggested I use one of her cars."

"Of course, and I'll give you a remote that will open the back gate, too," Manolo said. "I'm afraid the media have the front gate staked out-permanently, it seems."

A man approached Stone. "Are you Mr. Barrington?"

"Yes."

"My name is Wilson; I'm commanding the security detail here."

"Good; what kind of vehicles do you have available?"

"I've got a Chrysler van with blacked-out windows, and two unmarked patrol cars."

"I'd like you to drive Mrs. Carter and the boy to Supermarine, at Santa Monica Airport. The Centurion Studios jet is waiting there to fly them to Virginia."

Mrs. Carter appeared in the hallway, a handsome little boy of two holding her hand. "Hello, Stone," she said. "Have you met Peter?"

Stone knelt and took the boy's small hand. "Not since he was a baby," he said. "Peter, you're getting to be a big boy."

"Yes, I am," the boy said gravely.

There was something familiar in the child's face, Stone thought-some characteristic of Vance or Arrington, he wasn't sure just what. "You're going to get to ride on a jet airplane this afternoon," he said.

"I know," Peter replied. "My bags are all packed."

Two maids appeared, carrying the luggage, and everyone was bundled into the van.

"I'll lead the way out the back," Stone said, "and I'd like a patrol car to follow us. If necessary, I'd like that car to block the road."

"I understand," Wilson replied. He spoke softly into a handheld radio. "My people are assembling out back, now. Shall we go?"

"Manolo," Stone said, "I'd like to talk with you when I get back."

"Of course, Mr. Barrington," Manolo replied. "I thought you might wish to." He handed Stone a small remote control for the rear gate.

"By the way," Stone said, "on what days is the lawn mowed?"

"The man is here today," the butler replied. "Ordinarily, it's on Fridays, but he was ill last Friday."

"When was the last time he was here?"

"A week ago Friday."

"Do you recall Mrs. Calder having a conversation with him on that day?"

"Yes, she asked him not to cut the lawn so closely. She asked me to see that it was done."

"A week ago Friday?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you, Manolo. And do you recall if Mr. and Mrs. Calder went out that evening?"

Manolo looked thoughtful. "Yes, they went to Mr. Regenstein's home for di

"Was it a black tie di

"Yes, sir; Mr. Calder was dressed in a di

"And do you remember what jewelry Mrs. Calder wore?"

"She wore diamonds," he said. "She usually does, when it's a black tie event."

"Thank you, Manolo; I should be back in a couple of hours."

"Will you be dining here, then?"

"Yes, I think I will," Stone said.

"I'll tell cook."

"Something simple, please; a steak will be fine."

"Of course."

Stone helped Mrs. Carter and Peter into the van, then got into his own car. They made it out the back way undetected.