Teddy got a few hours of sleep before a gofer banged on the door to summon him to Peter’s trailer. Teddy pulled himself together and went over.
Stone Barrington was waiting for him.
“Sorry to drag you over here,” Stone said, “but Peter figured it would be less conspicuous to summon you to his trailer than for me to call on Mark Weldon in his.”
“He’s right about that,” Teddy said. He flopped into a chair. “This life of crime is exhausting. Anyway, what’s going on?”
“Dino and I are taking everyone out to dinner. The kids and you. Think you can stay awake for it?”
“I’m sure I can. I’m not sure it’s advisable to go.”
Stone frowned. “Why not?”
“It seems to be open season on Billy Barnett. Everywhere he goes, people want to kill him or frame him for murder. I’m not sure spending time in his company would be conducive to your health and well-being.”
“You’re not coming?”
“After you came all the way from New York? Perish the thought. I certainly intend to be there, I’m just not sure Billy Barnett should.”
“I see.”
“On the other hand, if you chose to honor the Oscar nominees, I’ll bet Mark Weldon could put in an appearance.”
Stone grinned. “Works for me.”
Stone raised his glass. “To Desperation at Dawn. May it sweep the Oscars.”
The toast was met by howls of protests.
“Dad!” Peter said. “You can’t say that.”
Stone shrugged. “So I’m a little biased.”
Hattie patted Peter on the arm. “He’s a lawyer, honey. He doesn’t get show business.”
Everyone laughed.
“Well, I like that,” Stone said. “I don’t get show business.”
“It’s tradition, Dad. You don’t jinx the show by wishing it well. You say ‘break a leg.’”
Dino said, “In an effort not to bring us bad luck, I have a gang of thugs going around breaking the legs of all the other nominees.”
“I’m not sure you understand the concept, Dad,” Ben said.
Teddy grinned. It was fun to be among friends as Oscar-nominated actor Mark Weldon. It was as if he had no obligations and was just there to be honored.
On the other side of the restaurant Gino Patelli scowled over his cognac. “You promise me Billy Barnett, and you give me a second-rate actor.”
“I didn’t promise you Billy Barnett,” Sylvester said. “Dylan did. And the actor’s up for an Oscar.”
“So’s the producer. If they’re having an Oscar dinner, the producer should be there.”
“The guy was in jail and then spent the whole day hiding out on set. He’s probably trying to avoid the press—it’s not surprising he’d skip a dinner.”
“With the lawyer who got him out, for Christ’s sake? You’d think he’d be grateful.”
“The producer’s not a relation. The others are.”
“The actor isn’t.”
“He’s an Oscar nominee.”
“Well, bully for him. You think I give a shit? I came here because the producer was supposed to be here.” Gino scowled. “Now that I’m stuck in the goddamned restaurant, I tell you, the food better be good.”
“Musso and Frank? It’s famous. The food’s excellent.”
“We haven’t got it yet.”
“We just ordered,” Sylvester said. He wanted to bite back the words. It was hard to know how far he could go with Gino Patelli. If he agreed with him all the time, Gino would call him on it as a yes-man. So he disagreed every now and then. Figuring out how often was a tough balancing act. “You want to cancel dinner? We can say something came up and walk out.”
“We gotta eat somewhere. Maybe the guy will show up.”
The food came and Gino cut into his steak. He grudgingly had to admit it was good.
At the other table, Teddy noticed Gino and Sylvester getting served. He wondered if they were dining there in search of Billy Barnett. He had a feeling they were, which opened up interesting possibilities. Had he been tailed to the restaurant? No, they might have followed Billy Barnett, but not Mark Weldon. Had they found out where Stone’s party would be dining and assumed he would be part of it? Much more likely.
There was one other possibility, even more disturbing.
They had come to the restaurant not caring whether Billy Barnett showed up or not. Not able to get a line on Billy Barnett himself, Gino was checking out Billy Barnett’s friends.