“Which is exactly what happened.”
“Now, who knows if the League could have prevented World War Two? But they would certainly have tried.”
“I think we’ll need to get some opinions on that from a few eminent historians. Nice to have a historical basis for our story.”
“How would you like a nice, one-word title for your story?”
“Speak it!”
“CABAL.”
“Perfect! It’s wonderfully sinister! And appropriate in the circumstances.”
They ordered dinner.
“Now,” Carla said, “give me something from the inside of Kate’s transition team.”
Stone shrugged.
“I know you’re plugged in there. I know you’re a member of her Kitchen Cabinet, too.”
“Then you know I can’t discuss anything with you that I’ve discussed with Kate — or anyone on her transition team.”
“And I was hoping to corrupt you.”
“Well,” Stone said, “that’s not out of the question, but you and I have to be very careful with what passes between us. We don’t want to do anything that would damage your credibility as a journalist.”
“You’re right, of course, but it would have been fun.”
“There’s this, though. Kate will be president for a maximum of eight years.”
“I have to wait that long to corrupt you?”
“It pains me to say it, but yes.”
They had a good dinner, then he put her into a cab to her hotel. It was a nice night, and Stone walked home.
24
Stone was at his desk the following morning when Peter came in and accepted a chair. Stone had not seen him since the funeral. “Good morning,” he said.
“Morning, Dad. The Centurion jet is coming from London this afternoon, and we’re going to meet them at Teterboro tomorrow morning for the ride to L.A.”
“I’ll be sorry to see you all go,” Stone said. “Fred will drive you to Teterboro.”
“Good.”
“How about a farewell dinner tonight?”
“That would be great.” Peter examined a fingernail. “Dad, I need your advice about something.”
“I’ll give you the family rate,” Stone replied. “Shoot.”
“Leo Goldman has been very attentive to us since we’ve been at Centurion,” he said. Goldman, and his father before him, were CEOs at the studio.
“That’s very good.”
“It has been, in lots of ways, but I’m afraid he has designs on Ben.”
“Hand-on-knee designs?”
“No, employment designs. He’s offered Ben the head of production job at Centurion. The current guy is retiring soon.”
“Wow, that’s quite a promotion for a young, independent producer with three movies under his belt.”
“Ben has been spending a lot of time with Leo and the production chief, learning the operation.”
“Is Ben inclined to accept?”
“He’s having trouble making a decision.”
“How do you feel about the situation?”
“I’d hate to lose Ben as a partner,” Peter said.
“Can’t he produce your films and still hold the production chief job?”
“He says he can.”
“Then maybe he can. Maybe he could try the job for a year or two, and if he doesn’t find it satisfying, come back to the partnership.”
“Maybe, but I’ve got a replacement for Ben all lined up.”
“Anybody I’ve ever heard of?”
“Teddy Fay.”
Stone’s eyes widened. “You’re not supposed to know that name. He’s Billy Burnett now.”
“He sat Ben and me down a few weeks ago and told us the whole story. Said he was uncomfortable with us not knowing who we were employing. It’s one hell of a story, isn’t it?”
“He told you about the sealed pardon, then?”
“He did, and he’s very grateful to you.”
“And you think Teddy — sorry, Billy — could replace Ben?”
“Billy has been a very fast learner, and he’s incredibly smart. Ben reckons he’s saved us more production money than we’re paying him.”
“Sounds like he should have a raise.”
“That will happen. So the advice I want is, what should I do? I’m emotionally attached to Ben, but I wouldn’t want to stand in his way. Leo has told him that when he retires, Ben might well become the next CEO.”
Stone nodded. “It sounds to me as though you don’t have a decision to make.”
“Oh?”
“It’s Ben’s decision.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“His mother and I distributed Eduardo’s estate yesterday, so Ben is now a rich man, and he can do whatever he likes.”
“He told me.”
“My advice is to let Ben make his decision, then, whatever it is, you find a way to live with it. Sounds like his moving up wouldn’t disrupt things, what with Billy waiting in the wings. Does Billy know about all this?”
“No, I haven’t mentioned it to him. But you’re right, it’s Ben’s decision, and I’ll tell him whatever he wants to do is all right with me.”
“I think that’s the way to go.”
“One other thing bothers me, though. What if Billy’s true identity becomes public? What would that do to my company?”
“To the best of my knowledge, there are only six people who know about it: you and Ben, the president, the president-elect, Billy’s wife, and me. It’s not in the interest of any of them for it to become known, so he’s safe, and so are you. Certainly, Billy isn’t going to tell anybody else.”
“That’s a good point,” Peter said, “and I feel better about all this now. I’ll talk to Ben on the way to L.A., and we’ll see how it goes.”
“Peter, do you think Ben has told Dino about Billy?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”
Peter stood up and gave Stone a hug. “Thanks, Dad. You have a way of cutting through the forest to expose the trees.”
Stone watched his son leave, then buzzed Joan and asked her to book a table for seven in the library at the Writing Room.
Then he contemplated the conversation he had just had with Peter. It made him feel good to have been able to give his son advice.
25
Dolce was in the kitchen preparing dinner when Father Frank returned from his obligatory visit to the archdiocese, clad in a black raincoat buttoned to the throat, to cover his collar, and a black hat. He was dripping wet.
“Big rain out there,” he said. “What’s that I smell?”
“Garlic, probably,” she said, kissing him.
He hung his coat and hat on a peg by the service entrance and came back with his collar in his hand. “I’m going to change out of this wet uniform. Can I bring you a drink back?”
“I’ll have some of that Irish, please.”
He returned shortly with two drinks, and they clinked glasses.
“Listen, I’m going to get cabin fever if we stay cooped up here all the time.”
“What’s the matter? Not getting enough sex?”
He kissed her on the back of the neck. “Not nearly enough.”
“We’ll work on that in farthest Brooklyn,” she said.
“What’s in farthest Brooklyn?”
“The family,” she said. “We’re moving tomorrow morning.”
“What sort of place?”
“We’ll let that be a surprise,” she said. She had another surprise for him, too; she couldn’t wait to spring it.
The following morning when they were ready to go, Dolce said, “You leave the building now, make two right turns, and wait for me on the next corner. I’ll pick you up.”