Bel-Air Dead (Stone Barrington 20)

“I’m not sure what circles Mr. Prince moves in,” Stone said, “though I did notice that he brought more than himself to your dinner party.”

“Yes, he told me they are all ex-Secret Service agents.”

“Did he mention why he felt he needed that sort of security?”

“I asked him that,” Schmeltzer replied, “but he was evasive. Quite frankly, from what I’ve been hearing, there are people around who need protection from Prince. Are the rumors true?”

“I’m not entirely certain which rumors you’re referring to,” Stone said. “Can you be more specific?”

“The rumors about Jennifer Harris and Jim Long.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard those particular rumors, too,” Stone said. “I’m inclined to give them a certain degree of credibility.”

“You know,” Schmeltzer said, “I knew Vance Calder pretty well; I produced three pictures with him, and I liked him a lot. If Vance were still alive, I would be on his side of this deal.”

“How do you feel about his widow?” Stone asked.

“I’ve met her once, and she was charming, but I don’t really know her.”

“I see”.

“I’ll tell you this, though: having now seen Mr. Prince up close, I like Arrington Calder more than him.”

“Are you a shareholder, Jack?”

“I own fifteen thousand shares.”

“Are you interested in selling them?”

Schmeltzer gazed out to sea. “What do you hear from Jim Long?” he asked.

“I hear he’s in and out of consciousness but not well enough to make a business decision.”

“And you need his shares for a majority?”

“That’s correct.”

“Do you know the reason for this dinner party, Stone?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“I opened a picture last weekend, Window Shade.”

“I hope it’s doing well.”

“It brought in sixty-five million dollars domestic for the weekend. It’s the biggest hit of my career, and I think it’s going to have legs both in this country and around the world.”

“I congratulate you.”

“I made that picture at Centurion for a third less than it would have cost to produce at a major, and it’s going to make me rich beyond my fondest dreams.”

“I congratulate you again.”

“The fact is, when I agreed to sell my shares to Prince, I did it because I needed the money to make my next film. Now I don’t need the money.”

“And?”

“I won’t sell Arrington my shares, but I’ll vote with her and Rick Barron against the sale.” Schmeltzer offered his hand. “You have my word on it.”