Free Stuart Woods 6 Stone Barrington Novels by Stuart Woods Page A

gazed into the teleprompter and read: “Vance Calder’s widow has still not been questioned by the police. Greg Harrow has this report.”
    The scene shifted to the Calders’ front gate, where a young man in an Italian suit spoke gravely. “Amanda, police department sources tell us that, as yet, there are no suspects in the murder of Vance Calder, and that his widow is still hospitalized, with no sign of emerging to speak. The investigating detectives want very much to talk to her, but her doctor refuses to allow her to be interviewed. Some of my colleagues in the media have been to every private hospital in the L.A./Beverly Hills area, without finding out where she is a patient. It had been suggested that she may have been taken to the Calder Palm Springs home, or to their Malibu beach house, but both those residences are dark, and during the past twenty-four hours, only one vehicle, a taxicab, has arrived here at the Calder Bel-Air home, and the driver refused to talk to the media. There was one man in the taxi, and he, apparently, remained at the house. Centurion Studios has issued a press release expressing the sorrow of everyone there at the news of Calder’s death and asking that the media leave Arrington Calder alone and allow her to rebuild her shattered life. The Calders’ only child, Peter, may still be at the Bel-Air house, cared for by the servants, but he has not been spotted here. All we have seen here is security, and plenty of it. A private service has the house and grounds completely sealed off, and no one, except the taxi, has arrived or departed today. We’ll keep you posted as details come in.”
    Stone switched off the TV set, pleased with the news. He could hardly have written it better himself, but he knew the lid could not be kept on for much longer. He picked up the phone and called Rick Grant’s home number.
    â€œHi, Stone, how’s it going?”
    â€œAs well as can be expected,” Stone said. “Let me give you a number where you, and only you, can reach me.” He dictated the number. “You can also reach me at Vance Calder’s offices at Centurion, as of tomorrow. I’m going to work out of there.”
    â€œAnything new?”
    â€œNot much. Arrington is still under a doctor’s care.”
    â€œHow much longer?”
    â€œYou can tell your people that I’ll make her available at the earliest possible moment.”
    â€œTell them yourself,” he said. “That would be better. The lead detectives on the investigation are Sam Durkee and Ted Bryant, out of Brentwood.” He gave Stone the number.
    â€œI’ll call them tomorrow morning.”
    â€œThese are decent guys, Stone, and Durkee, in particular, is a very good detective, but unless they start getting cooperation from Arrington, they’re going to begin leaking stuff to the media, and that would not be good for her.”
    â€œWe’re not hiding anything; Arrington really hasn’t been up to questioning, but she’s getting better.”
    â€œI’m glad to hear it. Anything else I can do for you?”
    â€œNot a thing, Rick; I’ll call Durkee tomorrow.”
    â€œGood night, then; Barbara sends her best.”
    â€œMy best to her, too.” Stone hung up and felt a hunger pang. He walked back out to the guesthouse, where he found Manolo setting a small table and the maid hanging his clothes in the closet, having pressed them.
    He sat down to his steak and half a bottle of good Cabernet and tried to forget both Arrington and Dolce as he watched a movie on television. He was unable to forget either of them.

Twelve
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    I T WAS A PERFECT SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA MORNING, cool and sunny. Stone swam a few laps in the pool, then put on a guest’s terrycloth robe and breakfasted by the pool, looking over the Los Angeles Times and The New York Times , which had arrived with his breakfast. The Vance Calder story