“Regenstein and another man, around forty, red-haired, Irish-looking.”
“Sounds like Billy O’Hara—ex-cop, head of security for Centurion Studios.” Rick frowned.
“Maybe Regenstein isn’t involved, and they’re using O’Hara to get Arrington back.”
“Sounds like what a studio would do.”
“What kind of guy is O’Hara?”
“He was a decent cop, very ambitious, had a flair for publicity. He got pissed off when some other guys made lieutenant and he didn’t; I guess that’s when he went to work for Centurion. Must be five, six years ago. If he’d stuck with the department he might have gone places.”
“Is he the sort of guy who would abet a kidnapping?”
Rick shook his head. “My guess is no, but it’s only a guess; I didn’t know him all that well. He came along after me.”
“We’re not getting anywhere much, are we?”
“Oh, I don’t know. We keep plugging away, something might pop. Calder’s the way in. You know him; what would it take to get him on our side?”
“I’m worried that it might take Arrington’s death. Jesus, I think that would do it. His secretary explained movie stars to me once, and from what she says, they think only about the career; there’s nothing else they love as much.”
“You don’t think he loves his wife?”
“According to Betty’s theory, sure, but she isn’t as important as his remaining a movie star. Of course, that’s just her theory.”
“Then again,” Rick said, “she knows Vance Calder better than you or me.”
“Yeah. All we can do is hope she’s wrong,” Stone replied. “Say, how are you and Barbara getting along?”
Rick smiled a little. “Very well, thank you.”
“I thought you’d like her.”
“You’re very perceptive. You should have been a detective.”
43
Stone parked on the quiet Beverly Hills street and switched off the engine. He had driven around the block twice, and there was no sign of unwanted company. He got out his pocket cell phone and dialed the number.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hi, it’s Stone.” He waited tensely for the reaction.
“Well, hello, stranger,” she said, and there was delight in her voice. “I was beginning to think I was never going to hear from you again.”
What did she mean by that? “You don’t get off that easily,” he replied.
“How are things in New York?”
“Lonely.”
“Me, too. I might be able to get away for a few days while Vance is between pictures; all I need is an invitation.”
“Let me work on that. You home alone?”
“Yes. Sad, isn’t it?”
“You going to be there for a while?”