Home > The Stars Shine Down(82)

The Stars Shine Down(82)
Author: Sidney Sheldon

Lara was sworn in, and a court reporter took down her testimony.

The chairman said, "Miss Cameron, some rather disturbing allegations have been made concerning the licensing of your casino."

"What kind of allegations?" Terry Hill demanded.

"We'll come to those in due course." The chairman turned his attention back to Lara. "We understood that this was your first experience in acquiring a gambling casino."

"That's right. I told you that at the first hearing."

"How did you arrive at the bid you put in? I mean...how did you come to that precise figure?"

Terry Hill interrupted. "I'd like to know the reason for the question."

"In a moment, Mr. Hill. Will you permit your client to answer the question?"

Terry Hill looked at Lara and nodded.

Lara said, "I had my comptroller and accountants give me an estimate on how much we could afford to bid, and we figured in a small profit we could add to that, and that became my bid."

The chairman scanned the paper in front of him. "Your bid was five million dollars more than the next highest bid."

"Was it?"

"You weren't aware of that at the time you made your bid?"

"No. Of course not."

"Miss Cameron, are you acquainted with Paul Martin?"

Terry Hill interrupted. "I don't see the relevance of this line of questioning."

"We'll come to that in a moment. Meanwhile, I'd like Miss Cameron to answer the question."

"I have no objection," Lara said. "Yes. I know Paul Martin."

"Have you ever had any business dealings with him?"

Lara hesitated. "No. He's just a friend."

"Miss Cameron, are you aware that Paul Martin is reputed to be involved with the Mafia, that..."

"Objection. It's hearsay, and it has no place in this record."

"Very well, Mr. Hill. I'll withdraw that. Miss Cameron, when was the last time you saw or talked to Paul Martin?"

Lara hesitated. "I'm not sure, exactly. To be perfectly candid, since I got married, I've seen very little of Mr. Martin. We run into each other at parties occasionally, that's all."

"But it wasn't your habit to speak regularly with him on the telephone?"

"Not after my marriage, no."

"Did you ever have any discussions with Paul Martin regarding this casino?"

Lara looked over at Terry Hill. He nodded. "Yes, I believe that after I won the bid for it, he called to congratulate me. And then once again after I got the license to operate the casino."

"But you did not talk to him at any other time?"

"No."

"I'll remind you that you're under oath, Miss Cameron."

"Yes."

"You're aware of the penalty for perjury?"

"Yes."

He held up a sheet of paper. "I have here a list of fifteen telephone calls between you and Paul Martin, made during the time sealed bids were being submitted for the casino."

Chapter Twenty-nine

Most soloists are dwarfed by the huge twenty-eight-hundred-seat space at Carnegie Hall. There are not many musicians who can fill the prestigious hall, but on Friday night it was packed. Philip Adler walked out onto the vast stage to the thunderous applause of the audience. He sat down at the piano, paused a moment, then began to play. The program consisted of Beethoven sonatas. Over the years he had disciplined himself to concentrate only on the music. But on this night Philip's thoughts drifted away to Lara and their problems, and for a split second his fingers started to fumble, and he broke out in a cold sweat. It happened so swiftly that the audience did not notice.

There was loud applause at the end of the first part of the recital. At intermission Philip went to his dressing room.

The concert manager said, "Wonderful, Philip. You held them spellbound. Can I get anything for you?"

"No, thanks." Philip closed the door. He wished the recital were over. He was deeply disturbed by the situation with Lara. He loved her a great deal, and he knew she loved him, but they seemed to have come to an impasse. There had been a lot of tension between them before Lara had left for Reno. I've got to do something about it, Philip thought. But what? How do we compromise? He was still thinking about it when there was a knock at the door, and the stage manager's voice said, "Five minutes, Mr. Adler."

"Thank you."

The second half of the program consisted of the Hammerklavier sonata. It was a stirring, emotional piece, and when the last notes had thundered out through the vast hall, the audience rose to its feet with wild applause. Philip stood on the stage bowing, but his mind was elsewhere. I've got to go home and talk to Lara. And then he remembered that she was away. We'll have to settle this now, Philip thought. We can't go on like this.

The applause continued. The audience was shouting "bravo" and "encore." Ordinarily, Philip would have played another selection, but on this evening he was too upset. He returned to his dressing room and changed into his street clothes. From outside he could hear the distant rumble of thunder. The papers had said rain, but that had not kept the crowd away. The greenroom was filled with well-wishers waiting for him. It was always exciting to feel and hear the approval of his fans, but tonight he was in no mood for them. He stayed in his dressing room until he was sure the crowd had gone. When he came out, it was almost midnight. He walked through the empty backstage corridors and went out the stage door. The limousine was not there. I'll find a taxi, Philip decided.

He stepped outside into a pouring rain. There was a cold wind blowing, and Fifty-seventh Street was dark. As Philip moved toward Sixth Avenue, a large man in a raincoat approached from the shadows.

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