“Now you’ve really managed to get me interested. Are you saying you’re behind her death?”
“No, I’m definitely not. I had nothing to do with it. It would just harm my business interests if you keep poking into that shit.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes dramatically. “Why don’t you just cut the cryptic shit and tell me what the deal is?”
That’s when I could hear the sirens roaring outside. I noticed the Asian stripper had left the stage. Did she call the cops on us or did the bouncers?
“Let’s get out of here,” Kane told me. “I noticed a back entrance.”
“Guess that’s the smart thing to do. I don’t want to end up in the interrogation room with Williams and his bad cologne again. But I’m warning you Calabrese, if you send any thugs after me or my friends again you’re a dead man.”
We didn’t wait for his reaction.
SEVENTEEN
“That was fun. Too bad the cops had to break up the party,” Kane said, sitting behind the wheel of his Hummer.
“Good thing we managed to split before the cops arrived. They made a mistake with those sirens,” I told the assassin, sitting in the seat next to him.
“So, we know Calabrese is involved with Carol Dickinson’s death one way or another. Too bad we don’t know in what way.”
“Do you think he was telling the truth when he said he wasn’t involved directly?”
“Sounded sincere.”
“Yeah… I’m afraid we won’t be able to get close enough to him again to ask more questions. He’ll be sure to double up on his personal protection.”
“I love a challenge,” Kane said.
“I know, but that challenge would mean another shootout with Calabrese’s guys for sure. It might be a good idea to keep a lower profile for now. Williams will be keeping a close eye on us. Besides, I fulfilled my quota for dead bodies for now. Unlike you, I am bothered by the lives I have to take.”
“All right, great detective… So what do we do now then?”
“We follow our other leads. The addresses in Carol’s GPS. I’ll Google them and see where they lead me.”
“Sounds like boring work.”
“You can play some Russian roulette while I do it. But please, use a small caliber. I just got the walls repainted.”
When we arrived at my apartment, the crime scene guys had already departed.
My next door neighbor, a lovely old lady, inquired about my health.
“Your boy here is feeling a lot better than the visitors,” Kane said, an arm around me.
My neighbor turned white.
“I’m sorry about all the ruckus I caused,” I told her.
Shaking her head she said, “I should have known living next door to a private eye would be something I was going to regret.”
“There’s a bright side. You live next door to an armed security specialist. Your home just couldn’t be safer,” I said, giving her my most winning smile.
“Yeah, aside from the ricocheting bullets meant for my buddy,” Kane said.
I gave him a hard stare. He just laughed. My neighbor decided to go back into her apartment. Kane probably spooked her. Couldn’t blame her. He spooked me too.
“Did you really have to do that?” I asked Kane.
“At my age, you get all the kicks you can get,” he said.
I sighed and opened my apartment door. Kane pushed me aside and went in first, silenced Beretta pointing the way.
Kane canvassed my apartment, the gun always at the ready. “You really need to be more careful.”
“Yeah, yeah… I guess I’m just starting to get tired.”
Kane’s voice came from my bedroom. He was being really thorough. “Tired gets you dead. Maybe you should grab some sleep before you do your research.”
“I’ll just brew some coffee instead,” I said, Glock in hand. I figured Kane had a point somewhere. Calabrese might have some shooters waiting for me.
Kane walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. “Clear, aside from some pretty bad hygiene,” he hollered. “Fix me a cup too, please.”
Satisfied there were no dangers lurking inside my home, I made some coffee. I drank it black. Kane took a dollop of whiskey with his.
He sat at my coffee table sipping his coffee while I Googled the addresses in Carol’s GPS.
Some addresses belonged to agents, some to record or movie companies. Some to celebrities and restaurants. One stood out.
“She visited a private clinic a few days before she died. Plastic surgery,” I said from behind my laptop.
Kane looked up from his spiked coffee. “No shit? You think she wanted a boob job?”
I shrugged. “Some how I don’t see her as the type.”
“Hey, this is Hollywood. There’s probably more women with a boob job than without. Could have been some Botoxed lips or a nose job maybe.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I should call Minnie about this.”
“Sounds like a plan. Hey, did you ever consider plastic surgery?”
“What?”
“You know, get rid of some crow’s feet.”
“I look like a young god. Why should I?”
“Yeah. Personally, I think wrinkles add character.”
Kane had wrinkles aplenty. Still, he could have been anywhere between fifty and eighty years old. “I guess. I really don’t like all that plastic fantastic shit.” It was one of the reasons I thought Minnie was so pretty. She was a real natural beauty.
I called the lady in question.
“Hi Noah,” she said. “How are you?”
“Fine considering the circumstances. How about you? You okay and safe?”
“Yeah, I am. Tony is taking good care of me, but he is of course eating his way through my fridge like a madman.”
I chuckled. “And still he insists he’s just big boned…”
She laughed her lovely laugh. I told her the latest details of the investigation and asked her thoughts about the possibility of Carol undergoing plastic surgery.
She was pretty adamant about it, “No freaking way. Carol’s just wasn’t interested in her outward appearance. She was always more interested in how she did her job, not how she looked. So I can’t imagine she visited that clinic for herself.”
“So it might be a pretty good possibility she was there for a story?”
“Sounds like the only reason, really.”
“Thought so. Okay, take care. I’m going to check this one out.”
“Okay, Noah. And be careful.”
“As always,” I promised.
EIGHTEEN
The private clinic was based in Beverly Hills. Guess it makes sense to locate yourself as near to your main audience as possible. It was a huge building on a tree-lined street. It looked expensive and exclusive.
When we parked the Hummer in front of the building, Kane said, “You go in. I will wait here. My attire doesn’t fit with the atmosphere.”
I glanced at his scuffed, dusty boots, his duster and long hair. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I’ll stay in the car, keep an eye on things.”
“Good.” I wasn’t entirely sure I was dressed well enough myself, but I’d shaved and was wearing a black sports jacket over a Ramones T-shirt so I figured I was casually chic.
I left the car and walked inside the building.
Behind the reception desk sat a perfectly coiffed young brunette. Tastefully applied make-up, minimal but effective jewelry. Good looking but not hot. Perfect reception desk material. Impressive. If I had the money to spend, I’d hire her on the spot for my own business. A nametag told me her name was Madelyne.
“Hi,” I said.
She looked up from her computer. “Yes, what can I do for you sir?”
“I’m here on behalf of a friend. She lost her mobile phone and figured she’d left it here. Since I was going to be in the neighborhood today, she asked me to pick it up.”
“I’m afraid there wasn’t any phone found,
sir.”
“Are you sure? Black Samsung?”
“And who is that friend?” She was a bit suspicious, but in fact was playing right into my hands.
“Her name is Carol. Carol Dickinson.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“That’s not a big deal. I bet you guys get so many clients everyday it’s impossible to know them all by name. Maybe she left the phone during an appointment with one of the doctors. Maybe the doctor can check if the phone is in his office or something?”
“Hmmm. Let me check.” Madelyne’s well-manicured fingers danced over the keyboard. “I can’t find any client named Carol Dickinson.”
“That’s strange. Let me see if I have a picture of her…” I reached for my phone and Googled up a photo of her from a book she wrote. I showed it to Madelyne.
“That woman I do know. But she’s not a client. She was here asking all sorts of questions we’re just not allowed to answer. Privacy’s very important here.”
“I’m sure it is, and I applaud that. Would you care to elaborate on what questions she was asking?”
“What? No, of course not! Who are you really?” I could see her turn red behind her make-up.
“I’ll play straight with you. I’m an investigator looking into the death of Carol Dickinson. We know one of the last places she visited was here.” I didn’t elaborate on whether I was a police investigator or a private one. How Machiavellian.
“Show me your badge,” she demanded.
I thought about producing a fake badge I bought at a toy store once, but had the feeling she’d see through that ruse. Dear Madelyne didn’t just fall of the turnip truck, that was for sure. Instead I whipped out my PI license. “I can show you my license.”
She perused it. “Private eye, huh? Well, I’m afraid I have nothing to tell you then.”
I pouted. “Pretty please. I have a job to do.”
“That look just makes you look silly. Please leave before I call security.”
“Pretty please with sugar on top,” I exaggerated the pout even more.
She couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re one of a kind, aren’t you? I’m sorry, you’re cute and all, but I have a lot privacy to guard here.”
I sighed. “And what if I take you to diner?”
She crossed her arms. “You’re not that cute. Not cute enough to risk my job. I like it here.”
“And I’m sure here likes you. Sounds like bribes are out of the question too?”
“You’re really going to make me call security, aren’t you?” she asked.
“I’m just hoping I can convince you to help me along in my pursuit of justice. Carol was found in a toilet stall in a Hollywood club with a needle in her arm. She was a friend of a friend. We’re sure it was murder and I’m trying to get some justice for her, tracking down the killer.”
Folding her hands she said, “That’s quite a story. Look, I’m really sorry but I just can’t tell you much more. I take my job seriously.”
“As do I. That’s why I keep pressing you to tell me more. Can’t you just give me some hints at least about what Carol was here for?”
“I’m not sure I know what she was here for. She tried to talk to one of our doctors about a patient. When I refused, she offered me a lot of money to give her the patient’s file. I told her where she could stick her money.”
I had to smile. “Sounds like you’re still civil with me.”
“Probably your boyish smile. Please, that’s all I can tell you. I won’t tell you which patient she was interested in or which doctor was involved. Sorry.”
I was starting to like her. I didn’t want her to lose her job. I choose to back off. “Thanks. You’ve been helpful.”
“You’re welcome,” she said.
“Still care for diner?” I offered, wiggling my eyebrows.
She laughed. “I’m sorry, no. That’s probably not a good idea. What if you get me drunk and between the sheets? I don’t want you to use more of your charms to get me to talk.”
I had to admit the predicament she feared sounded pretty good to me, but I knew when to quit. “Too bad. Anyway, thanks. Here’s my card in case you want to take me up on my offer anyway or in case you decide to share some more information with me.”
She took the card and said goodbye to me. She also told me to hurry. She could still call security.
I left the building and stepped in the Hummer. Kane was busy field stripping his 9mm, making sure all was as it should be with the firearm. He looked after his guns a lot better than his boots. Of course, dusty boots won’t get you killed.
“Any luck?” he asked.
“Not much. I figured I’d get lucky for a minute there, though.”
Kane sighed. “I just don’t understand why you don’t stick to hookers like me. That’s a lot easier than chasing tail in every place you go.”
“I just like the chase. You should be able to understand that.”
“I get paid to chase the two-legged prey I’m after. There’s a difference,” Kane said.
“I guess. Let me tell you the details while we drive somewhere to eat.”
NINETEEN
So, what did I have now? I knew Carol had been snooping around a private clinic, that mobster Calabrese had an interest in something she was looking into, and that someone went through a lot trouble trying to keep something secret. Sounded like those things were all connected, but without a clear idea about who this hot information was about, I wasn’t getting far with my investigation.
What could a Hollywood person have done at a plastic surgery clinic that would be so damaging they had to keep it a secret? Sure, some actresses made it a habit to lie about their boob jobs, although they weren’t fooling anyone. But I had a hard time believing someone would kill to keep that a secret. Was this whole thing unrelated to the clinic and was it just a coincidence Carol had visited the clinic so shortly before her death? Without a doubt Carol had to be working on more than one story.
I called Minnie and told her about my latest findings.
“Sounds like there are a lot of clues but no clear idea how and if they fit together,” she said.
“Spoken like a true Miss Marple.”
“Hey, watch it. I’m not that old!”
“Relax, I heard they’re working on a remake starring Jennifer Garner?”
“Hmmm. Okay. That’s not bad a comparison.”
In fact, they shared a lot of their looks. “I’d really like to find out what Calabrese is involved with. Maybe Tony can find out.”
“I’ll ask him. Meanwhile, I’ll try to dig up some information online,” she offered.
“Cool, thanks.”
“So, what’s next for you?”
“A stop to eat some sushi first. After that I want to follow up on the only lead I have left, Lia Brand. She was at the scene of the crime and had issues with Carol. I failed to get an appointment with her, so I figure I’ll have to improvise a bit and surprise her.”
“Okay, good luck and watch out. I heard she’s a real crazy bitch.”
“And pretty hot. Sounds like the women my mother warned me about,” I said. “Don’t worry, Kane is with me.”
“In that case I just hope you guys don’t shoot her.”
I chuckled. “Can’t promise that. Take care!”
I disconnected the phone. We’d arrived at the sushi place.
While we ate our sushi and drank some rice wine, Kane asked me, “Any idea where you’re going to surprise this Lia broad?”
“Not exactly, but I do know who can help me find out,” I told Kane after a sip of rice wine. “There’s this guy I know, part-time PI named Lenny.” Lenny was also a roadie. I met him doing security at a rock concert a while back. We were partly into the same kind of music and of course the same kind of business. After our meeting, he threw me the occasional bone when he didn’t have time to take a case or when he was on tour. He didn’t like danger either, and never carried a gun.
Kane
nodded.
“He’s done some work for Lia Brand in the past, too.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Kane said.
I called my buddy and after shooting the breeze briefly about the new Five Finger Death-Punch and Trivium albums, I asked him about Lia. He told me she could probably be found in the studio this week recording a new album. I thanked him and promised him I’d help him out when he needed my kind of help in the future. He told me he was really hoping he wouldn’t need my particular skills.
After we finished our sushi, we made a pit stop at a pizza place and then drove over to the studio Lenny had told me about. It was housed in a big beach front villa in Santa Monica.
Kane parked the car out of sight of the villa and stayed inside. I walked to the door of the studio. There was a security guy standing there, arms crossed. He wasn’t particularly big, and I could probably take him without breaking a sweat. That didn’t seem the best way to get inside, though, so I went for subterfuge.
I was carrying two boxes of pizza. “Hi. I’ve got the pizzas you guys ordered.”
“Nobody told me about any pizza delivery guy coming over,” the guard said.
I sighed. “Come on, man! I need to get these babies delivered pronto, or they’re for free. There was a traffic jam that seriously delayed me.”
“I can’t just let you in.”
“Why not? Do you think I’m carrying a bomb in these boxes or something?”
“No, but you might be carrying recording equipment. The boss doesn’t want any of the recordings leaking out to the press.”
I opened one of the boxes. “Nothing here but Pepperoni, see? Now, please…don’t be an jerk. I’m just trying to do my job. Maybe you can go inside for a minute and ask or something?”
“Okay, wait here,” he said and went inside. I, of course, put my foot in the door and went in after him.
The hallway was decked with framed albums that were recorded in the studio. The guard looked over his shoulder and saw me follow him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The Death Business (A Noah Milano Novella) Page 6