“Why wouldn’t he tell you about the Centurion offer?”
“Because when I participate in a deal, I get a cut-a small one, but in a deal like that it would be considerable-and I suppose he doesn’t want to pay me, not when he thinks he doesn’t need me.”
“He does seem very confident, doesn’t he?” Stone asked.
“If he’s confident, it’s for a reason.”
“Like inside knowledge from the Virginia lawyer?”
“That’s just the sort of thing he would do. He bought a house in Virginia a couple of years ago, then flipped it for a nice profit. My guess is, the lawyer probably had something to do with that transaction, and that’s how they met.”
That was good information, Stone thought. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever seen Prince do in business?” he asked.
“If you were my attorney, you’d tell me not to answer that,” she said.
“Then it must be something pretty bad.”
“A lot of people in business have done bad things,” she said. “Happens all the time.”
The waiter arrived with menus and told them the specials. When he had gone, Stone said, “If you find yourself in a compromised position because of something Prince is doing, feel free to call me,” he said, giving her his card. “Knowing too much can sometimes be felonious.”
She tucked the card into her bra. “Good point,” she said. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
After a good dinner he took her home and gave her a fairly chaste goodnight kiss. She didn’t invite him in, and he didn’t press the issue.
12
Stone and Dino were having breakfast the following morning when Manolo brought an envelope to the table.
“A fax for you, Mr. Stone.”
Stone opened the envelope and took out Arrington’s financial statement.
“What’s that?” Dino asked.
“It’s a list of all of Arrington’s assets and liabilities, in detail, and a statement of her net worth.”
“So, what’s she worth?”
“Sorry, pal, that’s a client confidence.” Stone began looking through the statement. It was pretty straightforward, even if the numbers were large. She owned her house in Virginia, which she valued at twenty million dollars, the Bel-Air house, valued at fifteen million, her Centurion stock, which she had valued at two billion, but which might end up worth half again as much, a securities account with Chase Private Bank in New York, valued at one point two billion, and cash balances in her various accounts at Chase of just over two million.
Stone’s breath was taken away. Even without the Centurion stock, Arrington was a billionaire. He felt a new respect for the intelligence and business acumen of Vance Calder, who had obviously used his earning power as Hollywood’s greatest star over nearly half a century very wisely indeed. He also realized that, for him, Arrington’s wealth was the key to a new kind of relationship with Woodman amp; Weld.
Stone had always been the firm’s outside man, available to take the cases Woodman amp; Weld did not want to be seen to be involved with. He had always been well compensated, but given his lifestyle, he had never been able to accumulate much wealth beyond his possessions. Then a few months ago, he had brought a very profitable new client, Strategic Services, to the firm, earning himself a million-dollar bonus for the previous year. Bill Eggers had dangled a partnership before him, but had not mentioned it since. Neither had Stone, but now was the time.
Dino excused himself to go and get dressed, and Stone picked up his phone and dialed Bill Eggers.
“Good morning, Stone.”
“Good morning, Bill. Have you a few minutes to talk?”
“Of course, Stone, always for you.”
Although they had been friends for more than twenty years, this was a little more cordiality than Stone was accustomed to from Eggers. He seized the moment. “Bill, I’m sure you will recall the generous bonus the firm gave me a few months ago, when I brought Strategic Services into the fold.”
“How could I forget it?” Eggers asked.
“And I’m also sure you’ll recall the encouragement you gave me regarding a partnership at Woodman amp; Weld.”
Eggers took a couple of beats before replying. “I believe I raised that as… a possibility, at some time in the future.”
“I believe that time has come, Bill.”
Eggers emitted a low chuckle. “I divine that the work you’re doing for Arrington Calder has given you new confidence, Stone.”
“Let’s just say that it raises the… possibility of an important new client for Woodman amp; Weld.”
“How important a client?”
“One with a net worth in the range of four billion dollars.” Stone heard a sharp intake of breath.
“Would we be representing her in the Centurion deal?”
“I would be representing her in that and other business. Whether Woodman amp; Weld would be involved is now up to you.”
There was a thoughtful pause. “You understand that I have a board of management that must approve any new partnership.”
“I understand that you run a tight ship, and that the board would certainly respect your wishes.”
“I’ve had the impression that you would not wish the Centurion deal to come to fruition, if you had your way.”
“I would hate to see Centurion Studios gutted for the benefit of a rapacious developer and an investor who doesn’t need the proceeds of such a sale in order to have any little thing her heart desires.”
“The firm would not derive much in the way of revenue from a sale that did not take place,” Eggers pointed out.
“There will be many opportunities in the future for the firm to derive revenue from Arrington as a client, continuing into the next generation.”
The chuckle came again. “You know, Stone, I met your father several times. Do you recall?”
“Of course. You had many dinners at my parents’ home, when we were in law school.”
“I retain a very sharp memory of your father’s appearance,” Eggers said, “and when I met young Peter Calder, I was struck by his resemblance to your father.”
“I have made the same observation,” Stone said.
“May I put a blunt question to you without offense, Stone?”
“On this occasion, you may not,” Stone replied.
Eggers sighed. “All right,” he said.
“All right what?” Stone asked.
“If you bring Arrington into the fold, I will propose to the board of management that you join Woodman amp; Weld as a full partner, with compensation in line with that paid to other partners, which, of course, is based on the revenues they produce for the firm, and I will make the proposal to the board an enthusiastic one.”
“Thank you, Bill, and please be sure that the board understands that the closing of a Centurion deal may very well not be a part of the firm’s representation of Arrington.”
“I understand.”
“Something else,” Stone said.
“Yes?”
“All this will hinge on Arrington’s successful purchase of Champion Farms. Based on your assessment of the value of the company, she will make a one-time offer of thirty-seven million dollars to Rex Champion, and we must insist that he immediately stop selling his blood stock.”
“I will start the process, Stone. When do you want to close? I think an early closing would be an incentive for Rex to accept the offer, given his cash-flow problem.”
“Thirty days, but two weeks, if he insists. If Arrington needs cash to close, I’m sure Chase Private Bank would be happy to advance it, given the size of her portfolio.”
“I know people there.”
“Since you are personally acquainted with Rex Champion, Bill, I think it’s appropriate that you handle this offer and the subsequent transaction.”
“I will do so,” Eggers said. “Do I have authority to proceed?”
“You do,” Stone replied, “but until all our other arrangements are concluded, please withhold knowledge of Arrington’s net worth to your people.” Stone paused for a moment. “One other thing: Arrington’s affairs have heretofore been handled by a Charlottesville attorney named Howard Sharp, and it is essential that Rex Champion understand that word of this deal not reach Sharp until it is concluded. When that is done and the Centurion situation has been resolved, Arrington will fire Mr. Sharp.”