The big Gulfstream lined up for takeoff on Runway 1 at Teterboro, and the pilot pushed the throttles forward.
“What happened to the beautiful pilot Suzanne Alley?” Stone asked. “We had dinner in London once.”
“She got a better offer,” Mike replied.
The pilot rotated and the jet rose and climbed quickly.
“I’ll be interested to see if we get cleared all the way to cruising altitude,” Stone said.
“Not until we get away from Newark Liberty,” Mike said, “but that won’t take long.”
The airplane leveled off at Flight Level 440. The stewardess unbuckled her seat belt and came aft with a tray of breakfast pastries and a pot of coffee.
Dino accepted a pastry and a cup of coffee. “This is better than flying in your airplane,” he said to Stone.
“We have pastries and coffee on my airplane,” Stone replied. “If you bring them.”
“I believe my point is made,” Dino said. “I’d also have to bring my own stewardess.”
Later that day they set down at Burbank and got into a waiting rented Mercedes. Mike drove.
“I’ve booked us into the Bel-Air,” he said. “Might as well check out our competition.”
“I hope they don’t know who we are,” Stone said. “We might get mugged.”
“They’ll know,” Mike said. “They knew well before we broke ground. Shall we visit the site now?”
“Sure,” Stone said.
Mike drove them to Bel-Air and up to Vance Calder’s old property. Cars and pickup trucks were lined up along the road for a quarter of a mile. “I guess they don’t have any parking areas finished yet,” he said. They turned into the driveway and stopped to identify themselves to the security guard, then they continued up the winding driveway. “There’ll be cottages on both sides of the road all the way up,” Mike said.
They parked just short of the front door to the old house and got out of the car. A portico wide enough for half a dozen cars was being constructed, and the old garage was being turned into interior space. They looked down the hill to where an enormous pit had been dug. Mike pointed. “Underground parking,” he said.
“It looks like a giant anthill,” Stone said. “I’ve never seen so many workmen on a site.”
“We’ve got three construction companies working two shifts,” Mike said. “Nobody is going to believe how quickly this hotel is going to open.”
“Where is Arrington’s house going to be?” Stone asked.
“Follow me,” Mike said, and led the way into the house, which was being enlarged to serve as the reception area and main restaurant. They walked down the central hallway and into the back garden, then around the swimming pool, to where a building was being framed.
“Here we are,” Mike said.
They walked through the rooms on plywood subflooring. The sound of electric hammers and saws was everywhere.
“This is good,” Stone said. In the original deal he had negotiated for Arrington to have her own house on the property. “It’s not as big as the old house, but it’s plenty big.”
“It’s your house now,” Mike said. “And Peter’s.”
“And yours, Mike, and yours, too, Dino, whenever you’re out here.”
“Free?” Dino asked, amazed.
“You can pay your own room service bill,” Stone said.
“That’s a pretty good deal,” Dino said, laughing. “How many bedrooms?”
“Four bedrooms, six baths, and two powder rooms, plus two staff rooms. Also, living room, dining room, kitchen, and a very nice study/library.”
“Are you going to let them rent it when you’re not here?” Mike asked.
“Maybe. It’s arranged so that the master suite can be locked off from paying guests.”
“That will help with the cash flow,” Mike pointed out. He found the architect and the construction foreman, and they began answering questions.
Later, they checked into a three-bedroom cottage at the Bel-Air Hotel.
“What did you think about how things are going?” Stone asked Mike.
“I was impressed,” Mike said. “Everything is on schedule. Frankly, I hadn’t expected that.”
There was a large bowl of fruit on the entrance hall table, and a note addressed to Stone, from the manager. He read it aloud to Mike and Dino. “The Bel-Air welcomes the competition,” it said. “We’ll do our best to show you how it’s done.”
Everybody had a good laugh.
On the living room coffee table was a large flower arrangement, with an envelope. Stone picked it up and handed it to Dino. “It’s addressed to you.”
“It can’t be,” Dino said. “Nobody knows I’m here.”
“Nevertheless, it has your name on it,” Stone replied.
Dino took the envelope and opened it. His face fell.
“What?” Stone asked.
Dino handed him the note inside.
Stone read it: “I hope you had a good trip,” it said. “See you when you return.” It was signed, simply, “S.”
“Uh-oh,” Stone said.
“Yeah,” Dino agreed.
“What is it?” Mike asked.
“Nothing much,” Stone replied, “just a note from a serial killer of Dino’s acquaintance.”