Consumed with guilt over the Terriss incident, I thought. “Go on.”
“This was a short while after the fire in Pacific Palisades. He and your sister had been drifting apart for some years, and it was as though the fire burned out what little was left between them. And the… how do I put it? The sizzle had gone out of Rick—the sexiness that always went over so well on stage. Hell, he wasn’t even screwing around out on the road. His marriage was dying, and so was his spirit.”
I watched the attorney reach for his drink and sip, as calm and dispassionate as if he were discussing a spell of bad weather. But this was Ricky’s life he was talking about—and that of my sister and my nieces and nephews. A dreadful suspicion stole over me, and my mouth went dry. Amory had done something even more monstrous than what I’d previously accused him of.
“So,” I said, “you started some rumors to help along the marriage’s demise.”
He shrugged negligently. “That wasn’t exactly my intention. To tell the truth, I didn’t care what happened to the marriage. I only wanted to shake him up some. If he and Charly survived it and their relationship grew stronger, that would be good for him; if they couldn’t weather the storm, he’d be well off out of there. And it worked, too: As your sister withdrew further from him, he threw himself into his work—and with real emotion. ‘Midnight Train to Nowhere’ and the other songs on that album are the best he’s ever written.”
And at such terrible personal cost…
Pushing down my anger for now, I said, “Let’s get on to you leaking those items to ‘StarWatch.’ Weren’t you concerned about damaging his credibility right before he went out on tour?”
“Ah, he’s got you buying into the credibility business, too. I’ll admit there’s a fair amount of that nonsense going around—particularly with country audiences, who tend to be more conservative than the average. But what really sells—and has always sold—to audiences is sex. We want our idols to be larger than life and a whole lot sexier than we are. And we also want them to be somewhat fallible. Given that combination, we’re solidly on their side. Look at his dedication up in Sonoma County of ‘The House Where Love Once Lived’ to Charly; Rats told me the response was phenomenal. Every single person in that audience had been there at one time or another; every single person was in his corner.”
Amory paused to sip his drink. I waited impatiently.
“Rats also told me that Rick left there with a woman,” he went on. “A very attractive woman, after two, three years of living like a Boy Scout. It got me to thinking, and I monitored the situation once I went down to his place the next day. It wasn’t difficult to figure out that he was making a lot of private calls to San Francisco, both from his office and cell phone, and it was easy to ascertain their nature.”
“You eavesdropped on his private conversations with Rae?”
“Only long enough to find out what was going on. I doubt either he or she admitted it even to themselves at the time, but it was apparent to me that the relationship was heating up rapidly. And I saw that as an opportunity to foster the kind of identification the Sonoma County crowd had felt for him—but on a much larger scale. It worked, too: this marital breakup and affair with your employee have already revved up his image.”
“Oh, come on, Amory.”
“No, I have proof. A couple of days ago we were concerned about filling the Universal Amphitheatre—it’s a huge venue, really more suitable for a rock star—but this morning the concert sold out. What with the gossip and the fortuitous fact that the single’s been blacked out on radio, we’ve got a potential monster hit on our hands.”
A second suspicion, as horrible as the first, began to turn in my mind. I stared at Amory, unwilling to accept that even such cold-blooded scum as he could have done such a thing.
In response to my look he nodded, eyes calculating. “I see you’re figuring out the rest of it.”
I said, “Transamerica’s people didn’t come up with the scheme to black out the single. You proposed it.”
“Again, guilty as charged.”
“You saw it beforehand as Rae did after the fact—as an opportunity to create sympathy and publicity for him.”
“Yes.”
“What if she hadn’t come up with the idea of the T-shirts? Did you have something in mind?”
Amory laughed softly. “Rae surprised me—and fed perfectly into my plans. I was prepared to let a few more minutes go by and then propose the newspaper ads she mentioned. But as it was, out of the mouth of a mere babe came a scheme that not only isn’t costly but stands to make us money. The woman’s untutored, but very, very bright. As I told him, he’d better keep her.”
“She’s not a pet, you know!”
Amory blinked, surprised.
My anger had been building, and now it broke the dam I’d placed in front of it and spilled wildly over. “That’s what people are to you, isn’t it?” I demanded. “Chattel. Things that you wring all use from and then discard. Doesn’t matter that they’re human and have feelings and talent—or that they have the right to live their lives unmolested. You don’t care. You manipulate them, bleed them dry, and destroy them!”
He frowned and reached for his drink. I couldn’t tell if he recognized the truth in what I’d said or merely was puzzled because he saw nothing in his actions that should provoke such vehemence.
I took a deep breath, got myself under control. “Was Kurt involved in this?”
Amory took a long, measured drink, then set the glass down with exaggerated care. “Kurt? No. Kurt’s all bluster and noise, but underneath he’s afraid of Rick. Rick’s got something on him, probably evidence of illegal activity. There’s no way Kurt would cross him.”
I nodded and hesitated before asking my next question. So far, this conversation had been like overturning a series of rocks and finding increasingly hideous creatures under each; I was truly afraid of what I might unearth from beneath the next. “All right,” I finally said, “what do you know about Patricia Terriss?”
“Who?”
“The name isn’t familiar?”
He shook his head.
I studied him, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth. Not possible to do so, though; Amory was a skilled liar. “Have you done anything other than what you just told me in order to, as you call it, put the sizzle and sexiness back into Ricky’s image?”
“I’d say I’ve done enough in that department, wouldn’t you? What kinds of things are you thinking of?”
“Anonymous notes. Anonymous faxes. A… floral delivery to his trailer at the Sonoma County concert. A birthday gift to his daughter that had a double-edged meaning.”
“Or a wild shot that supposedly came from a deer poacher,” he added softly. “Are those the reasons for the tight security?”
“Some of them.”
“You want to tell me what’s going on?”
“And have it end up in ‘StarWatch’? No, I don’t think I do.” I needed to get out of there; my hatred for the man was making it hard to breathe. I stood and headed for the door.
Amory said, “I suppose now you’ll be on your way back to the hotel to tell Ricky about this conversation.”
I stopped. “No, I won’t do that. He’s got a concert tonight; he doesn’t need me to unload this on him.”
“But you will tell him. It won’t make any difference, you know. Business is business, and we have a label to run.”
“Amory, I’m not sure of that; I think you underestimate my brother-in-law.”
“The fastest way you can bring him down is to encourage divisiveness among us.”
“And the best way I can prevent him from being brought down is by wise use of this.” I took my cassette recorder from the outside pocket of my bag and held it up so he could see. “You know the evidence Ricky has on Kurt? Well, now he’s got some on you. This has been on the whole time we’ve been talking.”
He started to push back from the desk, but I held up my other hand. �
�I wouldn’t. You’d have to rough me up to get hold of it, and I’d yell loud enough to bring your office personnel and building security in here.”
Amory’s lips went white; he ran his fingers through his wild brown hair.
“So you see,” I went on, “eventually Ricky will hear all the specifics, and then this tape will live in my safety-deposit box—just as Ricky’s evidence on Kurt lives in his—in case we ever need it.”
“You think you can harm me with that?”
“Oh, I’m sure your other clients would be interested in hearing it. Billboard? Possibly. ‘StarWatch’? Most certainly. And then there’s the ABA…”
“You’ve made your point. What would compel you to use it?”
“Any number of things: I’d use it if you ever did anything to hurt my sister or her children again. I’d use it if you did anything more to Ricky. Should you someday find it in your best interests to damage Zenith Records, multiple copies will be distributed. And I’d be especially compelled to use it if you ever, ever did anything to harm Rae.”
Amory watched me for a moment, eyes dark and hard behind the lenses of his glasses. After a minute he shrugged, acknowledging defeat. With a bitter twist of his lips he said, “When I first met you I thought you were small-time and naive. I won’t make that kind of mistake again.”
On the way back to the hotel I tried to analyze the situation, but my anger with Amory made it damn near impossible to focus. My driving wasn’t improved by my emotional state, either, and I was relieved to turn the car over to the valet-parking attendant. I hurried inside the pale-marble lobby and immediately spotted Rae, Ricky, and two RKI bodyguards crossing from the elevators. Rae and Ricky were holding hands and looked relaxed and rested. They waved, but as I approached one of the guards stepped forward to block me.
“Hey, she’s okay,” Ricky told him. “She may look dangerous, but she’s family.”
The guard smiled faintly and stepped back.
I asked, “You’re leaving for Universal City already?”
He nodded. “Sound check at four-thirty, then we’ll go have dinner, come back about the time Blue Arkansas opens for us, and start getting ready. You’ll be there later with Hy?”
“Probably. If something comes up and I don’t make it, I’ll see you at Union Station.” To Rae I added, “May I speak privately with you for a moment?”
“Sure.” She winked at Ricky. “Girl stuff. I won’t be long.”
I motioned for her to follow me and we began walking toward the elevators, the guard a discreet distance behind us. When we were out of my brother-in-law’s hearing, I asked, “Do you still have that Beretta you bought last year?”
“Yeah, it’s in the safe at the office.”
“And you did get a carry permit?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I want you to keep it with you until this thing’s resolved. And keep the alarm system at my house on whenever you’re there.”
Her face went a little tense. “You’re really serious about me being a target.”
“I hope you won’t become one, but your picture’s already been in the Insider and it’s likely you’ll be photographed again tonight, no matter how careful the guards are. You’ve been identified by name and profession, and so have I. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to connect the two of us and find out where you are.”
She bit her lip, glanced over at where Ricky stood by the doors, chatting with the other guard. “Okay, I’ll be careful. What about Mick?”
“He’s staying on here overnight, then flying to Tahoe on an RKI jet tomorrow afternoon. Neither Charlene nor Ricky is comfortable with him being on his own until this is resolved, especially since he’s not yet firearms qualified.”
“Makes sense. Besides… I’m not sure I’m supposed to tell anybody, but he broke up with Maggie yesterday. They got into it on the phone, and she told him not to come back except to collect his stuff. So you see, he’s got no place to go in San Francisco except your house, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for the two of us to live under the same roof at this point.”
“I thought things were better between the two of you.”
“They are, but it’s going to take time before he’s completely comfortable with me again.” She looked at Ricky, who was pointing to his watch, and nodded. “Got to go now.”
I hugged her—something I seldom did with Rae—and said, “Take care. If you have any problems, call Dan Kessell at RKI in La Jolla and he’ll arrange for somebody from the San Francisco office to help you out.”
“Thanks.” She hurried across the lobby.
I watched as the guards shepherded them out to a waiting limo, then punched the elevator call button and rode up to Mick’s floor. My nephew had his PowerBook set up on the desk, and after he let me in he went back to it, peering at its screen.
Sometimes his intense relationship with what was only a machine made me testy. With an edge to my voice, I asked, “Can you be separated from your alter ego for a moment? I need to talk with you.”
“Is it important? Because if not, I’m getting—”
“It’s important. I have a tape I want you to hear.” I set the cassette recorder next to the computer and pressed the PLAY button. Mick leaned close to listen, and I watched emotions that ranged from astonishment to fury pass over his face.
“So there you have it,” I said, clicking the tape off. “Things have happened to your dad that didn’t seem like they could’ve been engineered by Terriss, and now we know who was behind them. I’m not certain he isn’t also the insider who’d been aiding her; the man’s a talented liar.”
“Has Dad heard this?”
“Not yet. I intend to play it for him eventually, but I need your advice on the timing: Should I wait till the tour’s over?”
Mick considered. “Well, Mom never used to tell him anything that went wrong at home while he was out on the road. I guess that’s the policy you should follow.”
“Then I will. And I won’t tell Rae about it, either, because I don’t know if she could keep something like that from him.”
He pushed back from the desk and extended his long legs, crossing his arms on his chest. “It’s serious with them, isn’t it?”
“Looks like. How does that make you feel?”
“Better than I did a couple of days ago. It’s strange, though: All the things that I took as givens in my life have changed in less than a week.” He paused, sadness seeping into his eyes. “Maggie and I broke up.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was my fault. I hadn’t called her since I flew down to San Diego, and when I finally did… well, she’d found out that Charlotte and I aren’t just friends. A friend of Maggie’s was at Dad’s concert and saw Charlotte and me; it was pretty obvious what was going on, so she went straight to Maggie with the news. I wish I’d had the guts to tell her first, so she wouldn’t’ve been hurt like that.”
“A lot of growing up seems to be going on in our family this week.”
“Yeah. And I’ll tell you, growing pains’re no fun at all.”
“Well, ignore them for a while and help me figure out what we’ve got on this investigation. We really haven’t eliminated anybody as the insider except Rats—and that’s only because he got shot. But did you catch that about his being the one who told Amory about Rae? He seems to be keeping pretty close tabs on your dad.”
“But he did get shot.”
“Accidentally; he moved at the wrong time. And he could’ve been the person who tripped the circuit breakers. Terriss could’ve gotten on and off the property while the security system on the wall by the road was out.”
“Why’d she leave the gun behind, then?”
“It was a message—a Savage, remember?”
“I don’t know. Would she have had time to hide it and go over the wall, clear on the other side of the property?”
“Maybe, maybe not. I’m still going to have a long talk with Rats as soon as I can catch him alon
e. And if I can corner Forrest Curtin when he’s not hopelessly drunk or drugged, I also want to feel him out about a possible connection to Terriss that my Austin contact’s turned up. Otherwise I’ve got no leads—”
“Yes, you do. I was trying to tell you when you came in, I’ve come up with something on Terriss’s former husband.” He motioned at the computer.
“What? How?” I went around and peered at the screen. Nothing but a menu.
“Sit down a minute. I’m almost done.”
I sat cross-legged on the bed, watching as he tapped keys, read what came up, moved the mouse, tapped some more. This was one of the times when I loved Mick’s symbiotic relationship with the computer—mainly because he made it perform its magic without requiring me to participate. After a bit he pulled a scratch pad over, scribbled on it, and turned away from the desk.
“Well?” I asked.
He smiled, thoroughly pleased with himself. “You remember that Terriss told Dad she had a former husband who was working on a doctoral dissertation in medieval history?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I got to thinking about that, so I accessed DIALOG’s Dissertation Abstracts Online. It’s a guide to every doctoral dissertation accepted by an accredited American institution since eighteen sixty-one. They’re indexed by subject, title, and author. And under the name Philip R. Terriss, I came up with—are you ready for this?—‘The Decline of the Holy Roman Empire’s Spiritual and Political Influence on Europe after the Great Interregnum: A Conceptual/Statistical Approach.’ No wonder the woman was bored with him! I guess his profs thought it was hot stuff, though; it was accepted by Texas Christian University in nineteen ninety-one.”
“Good work! But how do we find out where Philip Terriss is now?”
Mick grinned more broadly. “Not at TCU. I called there. No Philip R. Terriss on the faculty, and they won’t give out information on graduates. So I started thinking about academics: They teach, but what else do they do? And I remembered that thing about publish or perish. Back to the databases I went, and came up with one that indexes scholarly journals, including the Medieval History Quarterly. And there he was—Philip R. Terriss, still going on about the Great Interregnum, whatever that was.” He paused dramatically. Mick loved drawing out the suspense when he’d been exceptionally clever.
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