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“No,” Stone replied. “Don’t be too worried about this.”
“Dad, if you’re not too worried, what am I doing traveling in a police car? I’ll never hear the end of this at school.”
“Well, from tomorrow, you’ll be traveling in the Bentley, and you’ll get still more guff about that, I’m sure. Two of Mike Freeman’s men will be riding with you. And yes, you can pick up Hattie on the way to school and take her home after that.”
“Thanks, Dad. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
Stone walked over to the leather sofa and sat down. “Take a pew and tell me about it.”
Peter fished in his bag and came up with a bundle of DVDs, secured with a rubber band. “My movie is finished; the titles and Hattie’s score are in. It’s called Autumn Kill.”
“Intriguing title,” Stone said.
“That’s what I was going for. I’ve thought about this a lot, and I don’t want to wait a year or two to try and get it released. I want to do it now.”
Stone shook his head. “Peter, I’ve already explained why I think you should wait.”
“I know, and I’ve considered your points very carefully. The thing is, I’ll be at Yale by the time the film is in theaters, and that will give me some insulation. Also, I can just decline to talk about it. I’m concerned that if I wait, some other similar film might come along that could lessen its chances for success.”
“You mean with a similar plot?”
“I mean something as simple as another film that takes place at a prep school. I have something original, and I don’t want to have it look like a copycat because some other filmmaker does something that looks like it.”
Stone thought about it and thought that, chances were, Peter was as right as he. “All right, but I think you have to offer it to Centurion first.”
“That makes perfect sense to me.”
Stone thought a little more. “You’re going to need an agent to represent you in this. Since I’m on the Centurion board, I have a conflict of interest.”
“All right, but how do I find an agent?”
Stone picked up the phone on the coffee table. “Joan, please get me Morton Janklow.”
“Who’s Morton Janklow?” Peter asked.
“The best agent I know.”
There was a click on the line. “Stone, how are you?”
“Very well, Mort.”
“I was very sorry to hear of Arrington’s death.”
“Thank you.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I have a new client for you, if you want him.”
“Who would that be?”
“His name is Peter Barrington; he’s my son.”
“Hang on, did you say ‘son’?”
“I’ll explain that part on another occasion,” Stone said. “Let me explain what he needs, and you can tell me if you’re interested.”
“All right, go ahead.”
