"I've just spoken with Arrington's mother, who is at Vance's house with her grandson. She says the press there is out of hand, and she's had to call the police. Can you arrange for some private security to take over that?"
"Of course; how many men do you want?"
"She says they're coming over the fence, and my recollection is that they've got a large piece of property there."
"Something like eight acres," Regenstein said.
"I should think half a dozen men inside the fence, two in the house and a car patroling the perimeter of the place, twenty-four hours a day, for the time being."
"Consider it done; anything else?"
"Mrs. Carter wants to take Peter back to Virginia with her. Do you think you could arrange transportation?"
"The Centurion jet is at her disposal," Regenstein said. "I'll have a crew standing by in an hour."
"I shouldn't think she'd need it until later today. Is it at Burbank?"
"Yes, but the press would know that. I'll have it moved to Santa Monica and hangared at the Supermarine terminal, until she's ready to leave."
"Thank you, Lou. I'll call you later."
There was nothing else to do, Stone reflected. Dino would be in the air, now, on his way back to New York. He checked his notebook, dialed the palazzo number in Venice and asked for Eduardo.
"Stone?"
"Yes, Eduardo?"
"This is Carmen Bellini. Eduardo and Dolce are on their way back to New York. I'm spending a couple of more days here to rest, at his suggestion. Are you in Los Angeles?"
"Yes." Stone told him most of what he knew so far. "If Eduardo contacts you before I reach him, please pass on that information."
"Certainly. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Pray for Arrington," Stone said.
He hung up, and it suddenly occured to him that, since he had left Venice, he had not thought of Dolce once.
Chapter 8
Stone collected his rental car, a Mercedes E430, and drove to the Judson Clinic, arriving at noon. The place was housed in what had been a residence, a very large one, on a quiet Beverly Hills street, set well back from the road. The reception desk was in the marble foyer, and Stone asked for Dr. Judson.
A moment later, a man appeared on the upstairs landing, waving him up. Stone climbed the floating staircase and was greeted by a distinguished-looking man in his sixties, wearing a well-cut suit. Stone thought he would make an impressive witness, if it came to that.
"Mr. Barrington? I'm Jim Judson."
"Please call me Stone."
"Thanks. Come into my office, and let's talk for a moment, before we see Arrington."
Stone followed him into a large, sunny office and took a seat on a sofa, while Judson sat across from him in a comfortable chair.
"I want to tell you what I know, thus far, so that you'll be pr
epared when you see Arrington," he said.
"Please do."
"Arrington was brought here by an ambulance on Saturday evening, at the request of her personal physician, Dr. Lansing Drake, a well-known Beverly Hills doctor. She was alternately hysterical, disoriented, and lethargic. Dr. Drake explained briefly what had occurred at her residence, and he and I agreed that she should be sedated. I injected her with twenty milligrams of Valium, and she slept peacefully through the night.