Cut and Thrust (6 page)

S
tone was waiting by the pool when Ed Eagle arrived. Manolo saw to the couple’s luggage, then brought a pitcher of iced tea for Stone and his guest.

“You’re looking well, Ed.”

“You, too, Stone. I was awfully sorry about Arrington’s death.”

“I got your note, thanks, and the flowers. Is Susannah well?”

“She’s just great. She’s been developing her own films for a while now and she enjoys that.”

“She’ll have to meet my son, Peter. He and Dino’s son, Ben, are at Centurion now.”

“I’ve read about him and I’ve seen both his films. Susannah and I were impressed.”

“I’m sorry she couldn’t make lunch. My girlfriend, Ann Keaton, may join us if she can get away from work.”

“What does she do?”

“She’s Kate Lee’s deputy campaign manager, and, as you can imagine, she’s pretty busy this week.”

“I expect so.”

“Let’s give her a few minutes before we go ahead and eat,” Stone said. “Tell me, what’s going on with your ex-wife these days?”

“She remains a thorn in my flesh,” Ed said. “I won’t feel entirely safe until she’s dead.”

“Just don’t help her along.”

“It’s crossed my mind,” Eagle said. “Susannah would go up to San Francisco and shoot her on sight if I’d let her.”

Stone laughed. “That would be even worse than doing it yourself.”

“You’d think that with all the money she’s got these days she would forget about me, but, no, she hasn’t.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Stone looked up to see Ann approaching, and the two men stood up. Stone introduced them and poured her a glass of iced tea.

“I’m very pleased to meet you,” Ed said. “I hear you’re up to your neck in Kate Lee’s campaign.”

“Over my head, half the time. Oh, Stone, I was right—the photograph of Marty Stanton and Charlene Joiner made the front page of the
Post
! It’s also all over the West Coast papers.”

“Why hasn’t Stanton dropped out of the race?” Ed asked.

“We’re working on it,” Ann replied.

“I’d sure like to see Kate get the nomination,” Ed said. “I’ve already sent money. Stone, I hear you were in at the beginning, among the big twenty-one contributors.”

“Best money I ever spent,” Stone said, “if she gets elected.”

Ed looked around him. “This is certainly a beautiful place,” he said. “Why don’t you open an Arrington in Santa Fe?”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Stone said.

“A client of mine has a little ranch for sale near Tesuque, on the outskirts of the city, that would make a good site.”

“I’ll speak to the board about it,” Stone said. “We’re opening a hotel in Paris next year with a French partner, but we haven’t made another move in the States yet.”

“I’d be glad to work with you if you want to come to Santa Fe. Susannah and I would invest, too.”

“Let me talk to some people,” Stone said.

“I’ve never been to Santa Fe,” Ann said. “What’s it like?”

“God’s country,” Ed said. “Seven thousand feet up in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, beautiful climate, great restaurants and art galleries.”

“We can stop there on the way home, if you like,” Stone said.

“Only if we lose the nomination,” Ann said. “Then I’d need somewhere to lick my wounds. But if Kate wins, then I’m going to have more on my hands than I know what to do with.”

“That gives me a terrible conflict of interest,” Stone said.

The phone on the table buzzed, and Stone picked it up. “Yes?”

“Mr. Bill Eggers for you, Mr. Barrington,” Manolo said.

“Excuse me a minute while I take this,” Stone said. He picked up the phone and walked away from the table. “Hello, Bill?” Eggers was the managing partner of Stone’s law firm, Woodman & Weld.

“Hello, Stone,” Eggers said. “I know you’re having too much fun out there, so I scared up some work for you.”

“Gee, thanks, Bill, I’m just sitting here, having lunch with Ed Eagle, and you had to interrupt.”

“Tell Ed I said hello. This could be a good client,” Bill said. “A Britisher named Charles Grosvenor is making a move to Los Angeles and he wants a law firm to represent him. Word is, they’re part of the London Grosvenor family, which includes the Duke of Westminster.”

“You’ve got a dozen good lawyers in the L.A. office,” Stone said.

“Your name came up—apparently he’s heard of you from a friend.”

“What friend?”

“I don’t know, but I’d appreciate it if you’d meet with them. They’re staying down the road at the Bel-Air Hotel.”

“All right, I’ll call them this afternoon,” Stone said. “Maybe we can have a drink later in the day.”

“That’s good. Let me know what comes of your conversation.”

“I’ll do that.” Stone hung up and went back to the table.

“Bill Eggers says hello, Ed. He also says I’m having too much fun out here, so he’s found me some work.”

“It’ll be good for you,” Ed said.

“We’ll see.”

S
tone called the Bel-Air and was connected to Grosvenor’s suite. A young woman with an upper-class English accent answered the phone.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Barrington,” she said. “Mr. Grosvenor is out at the moment, but he asked if you could meet him at the Bel-Air for a drink later today.”

“Of course.”

“Five o’clock, in the bar, then?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Mr. Grosvenor looks forward to meeting you.” She hung up.

—

THE BAR AT
the Bel-Air was virtually deserted when Stone arrived, wearing a necktie for the occasion, and he looked around, then selected one of two chairs by the fireplace, where a small blaze lit up that side of the room. A moment later, a tall, beautifully dressed, distinguished-looking man, fiftyish, entered the room, spotted him, and walked over.

“I expect you must be Mr. Barrington,” he said, smiling, “since you’re the only person here.”

Stone rose to greet him. “I am Stone Barrington,” he said.

Grosvenor took the other chair, and Stone waved at a waitress who was loitering by the bar, waiting for business to pick up. “What may I order for you?” Stone asked as the waitress arrived.

“A Laphroaig,” Grosvenor said, “no ice, please, just a little cool water.”

“And a Knob Creek on the rocks,” Stone said to her, and she disappeared.

“Welcome to Los Angeles,” Stone said.

“Thank you. We’ve been here many times, of course, but we’ve come this time to purchase a residence and settle.”

The waitress returned with their drinks, then left.

“Bill Eggers said that someone had referred you to me.”

“Ah, yes, a New York friend, Emerson Wilson.”

Stone had met the man at a dinner and talked with him for half the evening, but that was it. “Of course.”

“I regard Emerson as a keen judge of character,” Grosvenor said, “and he regards you as a good man to deal with.”

“I’m flattered,” Stone said. “What sort of services will you require from Woodman and Weld?”

“Perhaps you might tell me how your firm could best serve?”

“We can provide you with essential legal services, including finance and tax assessment. We can introduce you to a reputable investment adviser and a realtor to help in your search for a residence. We can also help you deal with any immigration issues you may have.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem for us—my wife is an American citizen.”

“That makes things much simpler. Where do you currently reside, Mr. Grosvenor?”

“In Eaton Square, London, and we have a country house near Chester.”

Stone recalled that Eaton Square was owned by the Duke of Westminster and that his family seat was near Chester. “And how soon do you plan to relocate?”

“You might say that, having arrived, we have already relocated. All we need is a house to complete the move.”

“Have you chosen a neighborhood?”

“We quite like Bel-Air,” Grosvenor said.

“You understand that I work in the New York office of Woodman and Weld and that I live in that city.”

“Quite.”

“There are a dozen partners in our Los Angeles offices. I think it’s best that I introduce you to one of them tomorrow and that he begin to assess your needs and make recommendations.”

“I was rather hoping that you could be involved.”

“Of course, but I think it’s best that you have an attorney on the ground in Los Angeles. I can be available in New York whenever I’m needed.”

“Do you not have a residence in Los Angeles?”

“I do, at The Arrington, just up Stone Canyon, but I’m normally here only two or three times a year. I may be here more often now since my son is living here, working as a film director at Centurion Studios.”

“Ah, Hollywood. That interests me.”

“Well, you’ll see a lot of it in Los Angeles,” Stone said. “Are you available for lunch tomorrow?”

“I believe so.”

“Let me invite a partner to join us who is more savvy about living in California. He will be up to date on taxes, for instance.”

“Of course. What is his name?”

“I have in mind Thomas Wise, our managing partner here. He’s a native Angeleno and a very knowledgeable attorney.”

“May I bring Mrs. Grosvenor?”

“Of course. Would you like to have lunch in the garden here? Say, at one o’clock tomorrow?”

“That would be delightful.”

Stone set down his glass, stood up, and offered his hand. “Until tomorrow at one, then.”

“Good day,” Grosvenor said. He left the bar, leaving Stone to deal with the check.

—

BACK IN THE
car he phoned Tom Wise.

“Good afternoon, Stone.”

“Good afternoon, Tom. I think Bill Eggers must have alerted you to the possibility of an important new client?”

“He did.”

“I’ve made a lunch date with him and his wife for tomorrow at one in the garden at the Bel-Air.”

“That’s fine. Will you be joining us?”

“I will, then I’ll hand off to you. His name is Charles Grosvenor, of Eaton Square, London.”

“Family connection to Westminster?”

“I assume so but have no real knowledge. Perhaps you can pry it out of him.”

“What’s his wife’s name?”

“He didn’t say, but she’ll be at lunch. Will your secretary book the table?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Tom. See you tomorrow.”

Stone called Eggers.

“And did you meet your new client?”

“As far as I’m concerned, he’s Tom Wise’s new client,” Stone replied. “I told Grosvenor I’d be available for consultation from New York.”

“Did that put him off?”

“Didn’t seem to.”

“Did he say that he was related to the Duke of Westminster?”

“No, but he did say that he lives in Eaton Square and has a country place near Chester. That puts him in the duke’s neighborhood. Are you coming out for the convention?”

“Can you put me up?”

“No, I’ve got Dino, Mike Freeman, and Ed Eagle staying. I can try to do something at The Arrington for you.”

“Okay, let me know.” He gave Stone his dates.

Stone called the manager and found Eggers a suite and got him some tickets for the gala.

S
tone took Dino and Viv and the Eagles to dinner in The Arrington’s garden restaurant, where Ann Keaton joined them just in time to order. Stone introduced her to Ed and Susannah, Ann complimented her on her film work, and they settled in for dinner.

“I’ve been hearing so much about your two sons,” Susannah said. “I’d love to meet them.”

“I think we can arrange that,” Stone said.

“I heard that they bought a novel that’s a favorite of mine,” she said. “
Not Far Enough
, by a Santa Fe writer, Helen Bradford.”

“That’s true,” Stone said. “They have a script and they’re going into production in a couple of weeks.”

“There’s a woman in the novel that I’d like to play,” she said. “It’s a character part, but I have to start doing those at some point.”

“When would you like to meet them?” Stone asked.

“As soon as possible. It’s going to get crazy as the convention gets cranked up. How about lunch tomorrow?”

“Excuse me a moment,” Stone said. He walked away from the table and called Peter. “Would you like to meet Susannah Wilde?” he asked.

“Yes, of course,” Peter said. “I’m a great admirer of hers.”

“Can you and Ben host her at lunch tomorrow?”

“Yes, we can do that.”

“I should tell you that she’s interested in playing a woman in the novel. She says it’s a character part.”

“God, she’d be great in the part!”

“Twelve-thirty tomorrow?”

“Yes. Can you come?”

“I have to have lunch with a new client, but you don’t need me there.”

“Tell her to come to the bungalow. We have a chef now.”

“I’ll do that. Oh, and thank you again for the party last night. I love your house—Ben’s, too.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Stone hung up and returned to the table. “Twelve-thirty tomorrow? They’ll give you lunch at their bungalow.”

“Which one?”

“It used to be Vance Calder’s.”

“Oh, I know it. Do you think they’ll let me have a look at the script?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Stone said.

—

THE FOLLOWING DAY
he went back to the Bel-Air for lunch and found Tom Wise waiting for him at the table. Tom was in his early sixties but looked tan and fit.

“Just how rich are these people?” Tom asked.

“They have a house in Eaton Square, and a country place, and they want to buy in Bel-Air. If I were you, I wouldn’t press them on the subject. The British upper class tend to be reticent about wealth.”

“All right. If we take them on, I expect I’ll find out anyway.”

“I expect so.”

Stone saw Charles Grosvenor approaching with a woman and he stood up to greet them. “This is Mrs. Grosvenor,” he said.

“And this is Tom Wise, the managing partner of our Los Angeles office,” Stone said. Mrs. Grosvenor had beautiful iron-gray hair to her shoulders, straight and parted in the middle. She appeared to be considerably younger than her husband, but they looked good together.

They sat down and ordered lunch, and Tom probed them lightly about what he could provide in the way of services.

“I think our first order of business will be an estate agent,” Grosvenor said.

Tom produced a card. “This woman is the queen of Bel-Air real estate,” he said. “I’ll have her call you this afternoon, if that’s all right.”

“Of course,” Grosvenor said, pocketing the card. He began asking questions, doing the talking for both of them, and Tom responded, revealing a depth of knowledge on every subject raised. Stone hardly got a word in edgewise, but he wasn’t bored. Mrs. Grosvenor seemed content to just listen. Two hours later, they parted company.

“What do you think?” Stone asked Tom as they walked to the parking lot together.

“He asks all the right questions and doesn’t seem put off by the property prices in Bel-Air. He’ll do for a client, I think. Did you catch the reference to his airplane?”

“I must have zoned out for a while there.”

“They own a Gulfstream G450. That puts them in the stratosphere in more ways than one.”

“Yes, it does,” Stone said. He shook Tom’s hand.

“Thanks for taking them off my hands,” he said. “I doubt you’ll need any help from me, but call if you do.”

The two men got in their cars and left the hotel.