“Why don’t you come on into my office,” Mars said.
Mars closed the door and Thomas Hencken took a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of Mars’s desk. He passed one of his business cards across to Mars.
“What can I do for you?” Mars asked.
“You are currently involved with Keshari Mitchell?”
“Yes, I am,” Mars answered, “but I can’t imagine why that would be of even the remotest interest to the DEA.”
“Do you have any dealings with Ms. Mitchell’s business affairs?”
“In what way?” Mars asked. “I’m general counsel for the American Society of Authors, Composers, and Publishers. Directly and indirectly, I have a connection to the business affairs of many record labels.”
“Well, allow me to tell you why I’m here,” Thomas Hencken said. “I head a special task force, a branch of the DEA, responsible for the investigation, indictment, conviction and dismantling of operations of major, West Coast narcotics traffickers and distributors. The DEA possesses substantial evidence that leads us to believe that your girlfriend, Keshari Mitchell, is currently heading, in Richard Lawrence Tresvant’s absence, one of the most notorious, organized crime rings in the United States…The Consortium…responsible for the distribution and sale of hundreds of millions of dollars of Colombian and Mexican cocaine. Do you have any affiliations with this organization?”
Mars laughed. “This is ridiculous. Is this some sort of joke? I have an extremely busy day today and if you cannot lay out some legitimate reason…quickly…why you are here taking up my time… without a warrant…I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“I can assure you, Mr. Buchanan, this is not a joke,” Thomas Hencken said. “Perhaps you really have no idea what your girlfriend does…outside the operation of her record label, that is. We’ve been carefully combing your background and, thus far, you’ve come up clean, but I can assure you that Keshari Mitchell is currently in charge of a multibillion-dollar criminal enterprise while her longtime boyfriend, Richard Tresvant, battles to overturn his recent, first-degree murder conviction.”
Mars didn’t respond, but he was shell-shocked by the information. He thought of the conversation that he’d had with Keshari not long ago when he’d asked her why she was so riveted to Richard Tresvant’s murder trial. Then he thought of the conversation he’d had with his best friend, Jason Payne, right after he and Keshari first met.
“She works ALL the time…at her record label. She travels ALL the time…on the business of her record label. She had to select a replacement so that we could go away for a few days. We just returned from Antigua. Whenever our schedules allow a small stretch of time, she’s with me. There has to be some mistake. How could she possibly run some major ‘drug’ empire?”
“I take it that you had no knowledge, until now, of Keshari Mitchell’s criminal background,” Thomas Hencken said.
“Criminal background?” Mars said. “Of course not! I’m still having grave doubts about the legitimacy of anything that you’re telling me right now. Furthermore, what exactly does all of this have to do with me?”
“Keshari Mitchell is closer to you emotionally than she is to anyone else right now,” Thomas Hencken stated. “She trusts you, she is vulnerable to you, and I believe that you could persuade her to testify about Richard Tresvant and The Consortium’s operations in front of a grand jury for the DEA. We know that she is not a career criminal. We have absolute reason to believe that Ms. Mitchell is working to completely extricate herself from the business affairs of The Consortium as we speak…which places her in a grave amount of danger…as well as you. We can help her to completely separate herself from The Consortium. If you can persuade her to cooperate with us, I assure you that the DEA will provide her full, legal immunity and physical protection.”
Mars’s head was pounding. “Mr. Hencken, I can’t help you. I don’t know anything about any of this, I have absolutely zero desire to be involved in your investigation in any way, and Keshari Mitchell and I won’t be seeing each other anymore.”
“Why don’t I stop by again in a few days,” Thomas Hencken stated, “after you’ve had some time to clear your head and think about this?”
“Mr. Hencken, should you feel the need to visit my workplace again for any reason whatsoever, I strongly suggest that you bring a warrant with you.”
Mars sat staring absently down at the DEA agent’s business card until he wasn’t aware how much time had passed. He was hurt. He was confused. He was frustrated. He was mad. Then he didn’t want to believe that any of it was true. His heart had him clouded in a state of denial. Logic made him pick up the phone and call Keshari’s office. Her assistant told him that Keshari’s plane had not arrived back from Chicago, where she had a meeting with Cathy Hughes that day. Mars wanted to immediately confront Keshari and he wanted her to deny everything and he wanted to believe her when she did. He wanted to be able to disregard the visit from Thomas Hencken and never have to think about it again. It was much too bad that life didn’t work out that way.
Mars tried Keshari’s cell phone and got her voicemail. He hung up without leaving a message. There were so, so many questions, but a mind that was typically very strong and highly analytical kept drawing a blank, as if it was trying to block the whole mess out.
Mars called Keshari’s cell phone again and still got no answer. He called Terrence back at Keshari’s Century City offices and asked him to please get a message to Keshari as soon as he could, asking Keshari to call him. Around four o’clock, as Mars stepped into the elevator, leaving his office for the day, Keshari finally returned his call.
“Hi, baby,” she said. “Terrence told me to call you right away… that it was urgent. What’s the matter?”
“I need to see you tonight. We need to talk. Stop by my place on your way home, when your plane gets in.”
“Mars, I’m exhausted. Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I’ve been on and off a plane for what feels like the greater part of my life. I’ve had meetings all week regarding the production schedule of the finale show, and I am mentally and physically burned out now. I need a hot bath and my bed before I completely disintegrate. Is this really serious? What’s wrong?”
“Yes…this is really serious and I need you to come by tonight as soon as you land.”
Mars’s tone seemed cold, lacking the intimacy that had become so much a part of all of their interactions. It made Keshari very uneasy.
“Mars, WHAT IS WRONG? Give me some idea of why you’re acting like this. Did I do something? Has something happened to you? Why are you being so evasive, if the matter is so urgent?”
“Look, I’m pulling out into rush-hour traffic. I’ll see you tonight,” Mars said and hung up.
It wasn’t until 11:30 that night when Keshari arrived at Mars’s Marina Del Rey condo and let herself in. The apartment was dark. The housekeeper had left for the day. Mars sat outside on the terrace drinking a Heineken. Keshari saw the deep, serious expression on his face as he stared out at the man-made lake in the darkness. She bent down and kissed him on the forehead. Mars seemed to almost draw away from her. She frowned at his strange reaction.
“You wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” Keshari asked quietly, sitting down at the end of the chaise longue beside Mars.
He looked at her. She’d been to Chicago twice that week to meet with Cathy Hughes and her son regarding the televised, grand finale show for her nationwide talent search project. Between flights back and forth to Chicago, she held production meetings with her staff at her Century City offices, reviewing set designs, looking at footage taken from each of the audition cities, and signing contracts for promotion, sponsorship and expenses while still reviewing and managing the regular, day-to-day affairs of her record label and roster of artists. All of this was on her plate and she looked stunning, with flawless, brown skin, a body to die for, not a hair out of place, and dressed casually in suede, Roberto Cavalli jeans and a cashmere T-shirt l
ike she could handle the weight of the world without breaking a sweat. He loved this woman and she said that she loved him and he had had no reason to ever doubt it. He had been seriously considering asking this woman to marry him. Now it may be that he did not know this beautiful woman who sat beside him with his heart in her hands at all.
“Someone came to see me today…to ask me a few questions…and to try to persuade me to get you to cooperate with his investigation,” Mars said, looking straight ahead of him out into the darkness. “Do you know who Thomas Hencken is?”
The words hit Keshari like a slap in the face.
“Thomas Hencken told me things today that absolutely blew my mind,” Mars went on. “Drug trafficking…organized crime… Richard Lawrence Tresvant, the guy from the high-profile murder trial, and…and you. He came to see me to talk to me and to ask me questions about YOU. I told the man to get the fuck out of my office. I thought that it was some kind of sick prank.”
Keshari didn’t say a word. She was wishing for a lot of things that would not alter her current predicament one bit. She wished that she and Mars had finished their conversation in Miami. She wished that she’d made the time to talk to him when they were on her yacht alone together off the coast of Antigua. The very last thing that she had ever wanted was for him to find out from someone else all that she had failed to tell him for months.
“I want you to reassure me right now that all that this man said to me today was a big, big mistake…some ridiculous misunderstanding because you, at one time, had romantic ties to Richard Tresvant,” Mars said. “Tell me that it’s all a lie and that my head is really, really fucked up right now over nothing.”
“Mars, you wanna know something? The reason that I have adamantly refused to get involved in a serious, romantic relationship for years is because my life is so complicated.”
“‘Complicated’?” Mars said incredulously. “What kind of shit is that?! Infidelity is some ‘complicated’ shit to have to deal with in a relationship. Financial problems can complicate a relationship. This shit right here is in a league of its own!”
Keshari didn’t respond.
“Are you a member of this ‘Consortium’?” Mars asked.
“Not anymore,” Keshari answered quietly.
“‘Not anymore,’” Mars said. “Hmmm…That’s interesting. So, how long has it been since you separated yourself from this organization?”
“I firmly decided that I wanted out before I ever met you,” Keshari answered.
Mars was overwhelmed by a mix of intense emotions. He buried his head in his hands. “So, you’re telling me that you have been responsible for importing massive quantities of cocaine into this country and then putting it into communities around the country where your people are literally destroyed?”
Keshari could not respond.
“How have you managed to operate in a major crime ring for years while holding the very public position as president and CEO of a successful, major record label? It doesn’t make sense.”
“It happens more often than you think, Mars,” Keshari said. “Every major criminal enterprise invests in completely legitimate business enterprises. Every major criminal enterprise operates in conjunction with some completely legal, publicly known company or financial institution to launder its money. Remember MCA? There were a number of years when the label was said to have been almost completely Mafia-run. My label is completely legitimate and it always has been. It has no connection to The Consortium in any way. When I first came into the industry and the success started to come pretty fast, I became the ‘focus-of-the-moment’ for the media. Rumors circulated about me. The press wanted to present stories surrounding those rumors to the public. My attorney took care of it. The fact that my affiliations were not just a rumor took care of the rest.”
Mars shook his head as if he was trying to shake off the complete madness of what he was hearing.
“Have you ever killed anyone?” Mars asked.
Keshari looked down at the ground. Her failure to answer was answer.
“Who ARE you?” Mars asked incredulously, tears filling his eyes. “WHAT are you?”
“Mars, years ago, I made some horrible, horrible decisions in my life. My life is different now…and a large part of that has to do with you. I am exactly who you thought I was before that DEA agent came to see you.”
“No, you’re NOT!” Mars snapped angrily. “Everything about you is a lie…at least, everything that you’ve revealed or completely failed to reveal to me! You are a beautiful illusion barely disguising a perverse level of…EVIL and CRIMINALITY!”
Keshari was hurt to her core at his angry words.
“Mars…this amazing man fell in love with me. I fell in love with him. I WANTED what we have. I didn’t want to lose what we have. How exactly was I supposed to tell you about that part of my life? ‘Mars, I was once one of the most powerful drug traffickers on the West Coast…but I’m not anymore.’ There was NEVER going to be an ideal time to tell you something like that. I have never been in love with anyone in my life the way that I am with you, and if I had to take the biggest risk in the world to experience with you what I’ve never had the opportunity to experience before, that was the risk that I was willing to take, until I figured out the right way and the right time to tell you.”
The silence that followed seemed deafening and interminable.
“Get out,” Mars said.
He went into his dark apartment, into his bedroom, and slammed the door. Keshari rushed in after him.
“Mars, WAIT!” Keshari said to his locked door. “There is so, so much that you don’t understand. We’ve opened discussion on this issue. Please…let’s finish it. That is not my life anymore! I’m risking my life to walk away from that life! Please…just open the door.”
The response to her plea was silence. Keshari stood at Mars’s locked door for what seemed like forever, hoping that Mars would open the door. He never did.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Heartbroken tears spilled down Keshari’s cheeks as she picked up her purse, left the keys to Mars’s apartment on the cocktail table, and hurried out while DEA agents captured her tearful departure on film.
The following week was misery. Keshari cried for days. Then she was furious with herself for having gotten involved with Mars in the first place. Then she cried all over again, missing him, thinking of him, loving him. Then she had to try to regroup, remembering the gravity of her situation overall.
Media commented that there may be trouble in paradise for music’s power couple. The press constantly worked to convey celebrities’ lives to the public like some kind of reality soap opera. There were few insiders offering up juicy information to tabloid writers to confirm or deny the Keshari and Mars situation, however. Most of the people surrounding Keshari and Mars didn’t really know what was going on and the few who did would not dare betray their privacy.
Mars took a couple of days off work and stayed in his condo with the blinds drawn. A man known for his suave, all’s-under-control demeanor was at his breaking point. Anger, sadness, hurt, resentment, disgust, and judgment at the choices Keshari had made in her life drowned out everything else around him and he needed a little time to get his head back together. He also didn’t want to run into another reporter in the garage of his office building, hounding him with questions.
Mars had been deluding himself from the very beginning, from the day that he’d told his best friend about Keshari, and his friend had warned him to be careful, he knew that he had almost intentionally gone into a state of denial. When Keshari gave confirmation to the truth of the words of the DEA agent, in an instant, something shattered that night like glass between the two of them. Mars was absolutely in love with Keshari and it was a feeling that he could not simply turn off. Never in his life had he ever fallen for a woman the way that he had for Keshari, but he didn’t know if they would ever be able to repair what was now broken between the two of them, especial
ly now that he knew what he knew.
Meanwhile, “Nationwide Search for a Star” continued to move. The televised grand finale series would be a week-long event promising to showcase some of the hottest, unsigned talent in the country and some of the biggest names in music would be judging the contest and choosing the winner. Keshari had budget and production meetings every other day to distract her from her broken heart, and then she sat in the studio to hear LTL’s newest, rising star producer, Mack-A-Do-Shuz, put the finishing touches on sure-to-go-platinum tracks. At the office, she appeared to be bravely holding it all together. Almost everyone at LTL knew about her break-up with Mars, but felt certain that the two would quickly get back together, and only a few shared in hushed whispers why the two had broken up. Keshari went home in the evenings and dropped her brave facade and felt like she might fall apart.
Exactly one week and a day after Keshari’s break-up with Mars, Keshari headed home early. Since first thing that morning, she’d been on the set of a video shoot for her label’s group, C-Walk, because, as usual, the group were posing a problem to themselves and everyone around them. For three days, C-Walk had been coming onto the set drunk, reeking of marijuana, with their parasitic entourage in tow. Their management was little more than one of their homies from the ’hood. He had no experience managing their budgets and even less experience managing their ridiculous behavior. C-Walk found it difficult to take constructive criticism from anyone and they refused most advisements offered to them by professionals. What was supposed to be a three-day video shoot for their new single, “Stripper Song,” was now running overtime as well as over budget. C-Walk showed up late, practically coerced video models to provide sexual favors for them and their entourage, and then could not seem to follow the guidance of the video’s director at all. Before everyone working on the video got pissed enough to walk, the director called Keshari to ask her to immediately intercede.
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