“That would be William Eggers, managing partner of Woodman & Weld?”
“Correct. Bill suggested that if I would take a cram course for the bar and pass, then he could find some work for me. I did, and I became ‘of counsel’ to Woodman & Weld.”
“What does that mean?”
“Let’s go off the record here. In my case, it meant that I was assigned the cases that Woodman & Weld didn’t want to deal with and wanted to go away.”
“Such as?”
“Such as a client’s son who was accused of date rape, a client’s wife who while driving intoxicated struck another car and injured someone, or, perhaps hiring a private investigator to help on a difficult divorce. I stress that all these cases are hypothetical.”
“I see, and that’s how you got something of a reputation as a fixer?”
“All lawyers are fixers—some do it in court, some at the negotiation table, some in other ways.”
“And how did you come to have such a reputation with women?”
“I beg your pardon? What kind of reputation are we talking about?”
“A swordsman’s reputation, to put it politely. My researcher was able to connect you to more than a dozen women, among them Ann Keaton, a deputy campaign manager for Kate Lee.”
“I’ve spent most of my adult life as a single man,” Stone said, “and I have never had any inclination toward celibacy.”
She smiled. “An excellent answer. May we talk about how you became a father?”
“Not on the record. My son doesn’t need to be reading about that. Perhaps later, off the record and when your recorder isn’t operating.”
The doorbell rang. “That must be our dinner. I took the liberty of ordering for you.”
“Thank you. We can finish our discussion later.”
Stone let the waiter in, who set the table and lit the candles.
“Come,” Stone said, taking her hand. “Don’t let it get cold.”
“Nothing will get cold,” she said, “I assure you.”
39
They began with fresh foie gras, then transitioned to a duck, and another bottle of the Krug was uncorked along the way. Dessert was crème brûlée, and then they were on espresso, which they had on the sofa.
They went back on the record.
“How did you become involved with the Arrington hotels?”
“I had married, and, as I’m sure your researcher has noted, my wife was murdered by a former lover. She was the widow of the actor Vance Calder, and inherited his estate, which included a large plot of land in Bel-Air, Los Angeles. The site seemed ideal for a fine hotel, a corporation was formed and funded, and we opened last year. Then Marcel duBois, whose name I’m sure you know . . .”
“France’s Warren Buffett?”
“I’ve heard him described as such. Marcel contacted me, looking to buy the Bel-Air property, but instead, we went into business together. He already owned the Paris property, which underwent a complete renovation, the result of which you’ve seen tonight. I came over for the opening.”
“My sources tell me that your life has been in danger while you’re in Paris.”