All three of them were lost in their own thoughts as they rode the elevator to the fourth floor. H.M. and Lori followed Ed down the corridor. After Ed knocked on his door, a man Hamish recognized opened the door to them. Ed led the way into the kitchen. The four of them seated themselves around the table.
"Anyone want a cold drink?" Ed inquired. Lori asked for a pop, anything lemon-limeish. Taking a can from the refrigerator, he placed in front of her before taking a seat next to Hank.
H.M. spoke first. "I do thank you for agreeing tae discuss this with me, Hank. I need tae know if you can add anythin tae tha inquiry into Vincent's death. I realize ye have no wish tae be involved with tha polis."
Hank leaned forward. "You knew Vince was doing dope?"
"Aye. I cannae deny it. I have ah taste for scotch. I realize alcohol is just as much ah drug as anything else. To tha best of my knowledge, Vince wasnae out of control due tae drugs. He was just nasty. Trying tae blame tha pot, he smoked or tha pills he took, is nae going tae excuse his behavior."
The man relaxed visibly. "I thought for a moment you might be trying to climb on the drug hysteria band wagon. Vincent was into uppers for performing and downers to bring him down again, so he could sleep. He wanted what he wanted. The man was pretty good about watching his intake. He liked his body and didn't want to push it too far. Vince was an asshole all right, but a careful one."
Hank watched Hamish closely when he continued. "Someone made him an offer to turn him on to anything he might like. He told me about it in Seattle. Didn't tell me who made the offer, just laughed about it and said he didn't intend to get involved with anyone quite so obliging. Said he took care of himself and intended to go on doing so. We made arrangements for our business deal to continue as it had while he was working on the new album."
"That sounds like Vince." H.M. agreed with Hank's assessment. "He wanted tae be in control at all times. Never could release tha reins for an instant. This is tha reason I wanted tae speak with you. I thought Vince wasnae intae heavy drugs. I needed tae verify it with ye. He dinna give any clue as tae who made him tha offer, did he?"
"Nah." Hank was adamant. "He was closed mouthed about it. He did ask me to get a little cocaine during the Seattle gig. He said it was for the groupie, she wanted a little different action. I told him I didn't have any contacts for it in Seattle so, he said to drop it. No biggie. The chick could find her own."
Hank tapped his fingers on the tabletop. "He was mostly concerned with performing and being able to sleep afterward. A little pot now and then was O.K. too. The gig was his biggest concern. You would have to talk to the girl to find out about any coke he might have taken. Vince never brought any of the groupies around when we were doing business. He knew I didn't want it getting around that I was his supplier."
"It could have made it difficult for me to keep the stash hidden. I've worked out a nice way of transporting the stuff from show to show. I don't need any hassle about it. I kept Vincent happy, and he kept my habit going."
"Which is?" Hamish inquired.
Hank laughed before replying. "I like pretty girls and fast cars. Expensive cars. Takes cash. I could have kept the rest of the crew in pot and stuff, but I don't like doing things on a large scale. I've got nothing against pot. I put pot in the same class as alcohol. Use a little weed myself. I never have been caught driving under the influence of anything and don't intend to start now. Need my license for the fast cars, you can get any chick you want with the right ride. I may be fifty, but I still get around real good."
"Did Vince seem any different in tha last few days? Did you notice anything bothering?" Hamish asked.
"If you must know, the thing messing with him the most was your leaving the band."
Hank glanced at Lori out of the corner of his eye. "Listen, ma'am. No offence intended. He thought your lady was a ringed-tailed bitch who was forcing you out of the group. He wanted to keep on using the band. He wanted you guys to play backup for him. Kinda like 'Vincent Slaughter and the Bushmasters' type of gig. You know, demoting the band to second place, kinda. He said you were going to fall flat on your face without him. Mostly he was real pissed at you."
"Och! I thought he might be upset over it. There wasnae anything else? Nae one else he was angry with, who he may have mentioned?"
Hank was silent for a moment. "Nah. No one else I can think of right now. If anything does come to me, I'll let Ed know."
He glanced at his watch. "I've got a date. Need to pick her up in a couple of hours. Is this a wrap, man?"
Pushing the chair back, MacGrough stood and held out his hand. "Aye. Thank ye for yur help. If tha coppers get wind of anything, they dinna get it from me."
Hank Davis took his hand. "I believe you'll keep shut. See you later."
Davis nodded to Lori.
"Ed, I'll call you later. See ya."
Ed left the kitchen with Hank. H.M. could hear the murmur of their voices as they talked in the hallway. He walked over to the kitchen window. A few minutes later, Hamish heard Ed reenter the kitchen and take his seat at the table. Ed spoke to Lori, asking if she would care for another cold drink. Their conversation faded into the background as H.M. thought about Davis' statements.
The man seemed sincere. H.M. believed Davis had told him all he could recall. It appeared Vince's drug use had been confined to a narrow area. Hank's information confirmed H.M.'s opinion. He always thought Vince cared more about his music than anything else and would not have let anything interfere with it.
Going to premed classes had been informative as to bodily functions. They both had a good working knowledge of what sort of abuse their bodies could tolerate. Hamish doubted Vince would put his career or his body at risk by indulging a drug habit.
He had to speak with the girl. She wanted to try cocaine. Had they gone to someone else to get her coke? Who had offered to keep Vince supplied with 'whatever he wanted'?
H.M. had a suspicion. He didn't trust the record company rep. The man was trying to cause trouble between the band members ever since he began to hang around Vincent.
Finding the girl was imperative. Warren would certainly be around the hotel when they returned. Hamish knew he needed to call Hale and find out if he had set up an interview with her.
"H.M.? Hamish, come and sit down a moment." He heard Lori calling him.
Turning away from the window he sat down at the table again as she asked.
"Ed and I were discussing Hank's comments. We both think the company rep might be the one Vince was referring to who was willing to supply him. What do you think about that?"
"I quite agree. Tha skunner was trouble from tha beginnin. He was fillin Vincent's head with rubbish about how he was tha star an nae one else could hold ah candle to him. I never liked him. He inflated Vince's ego tae tha point where he was utterly unbearable."
Hamish stretched his legs under the table and folded his arms across his chest. "I wonder why Vince tried to get cocaine for tha girl? That wasna his usual style. He always felt he ought tae be enough for any woman. The mere thought of being able tae have sex with him should be enough of an aphrodisiac for any female lucky enough tae be noticed by him. Tha man was an egomaniac, but not an utter fool. I cannae believe he would have endangered his career for a groupie."
"I agree totally." Ed broke in. "I never saw him do anything to hurt his voice or his person. He was always concerned the sound be set so as not to cause him problems. The man had a gift for sounding good. He always made it his top priority."
Lori finished her soda. "That leads me to believe he would get rid of the girl before he would put himself at risk in any way. So we are agreed. Drugs didn't play any part in his demise?" She looked at the two men questioningly.
It was H.M. who responded. "At tha moment it doesnae look as if drugs were ah factor here. But, we have tae talk with tha girl. I want tae hear from her what they did and why. I am sure she followed where Vince led. He dinna like strong women. They demanded tae much from
him. That was tha way his father saw family life, tha father was always tha benevolent dictator."
"Do you have another soda?" Hamish leaned back in the chair. "I would appreciate a cold drink if you have another."
Rising, the roadie went to the refrigerator then came back with a canned soda for each of them. "Is there anything else you wanted to talk over with me?"
"There is." H.M. popped the tab on the can. "Who is tha lad, tha one who was always hanging round me, watching?"
"I know who you mean. Tatterson, that's his name. Jim Tatterson. He's from Portland originally. Worked with a band from there. Hang on a minute."
Ed left the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later carrying a small black notebook. "Here. Let's see, Tatterson. Yep, he lives near Venice. I've a phone number if you would like it?"
"Thank ye, I would. I want tae find out what he was doing tha night of tha party in Seattle."
Ed thumbed through the book to the back, finding an empty page, he tore it out. After writing both the address and phone number on the sheet, he folded it and handed it to H.M.
"I can fill you in a bit on that." Ed said with a grin. "Jim was with this little redhead when the party started. Pretty little thing. Looked a bit young. I asked her age and nearly got the top of my head taken off for my pains. She had a mouth on her. Cussed me out good and proper. Said she was old enough to do anything she pleased."
Ed laughed. "Tatterson sure had his hands full with that tidbit. Jim is a good kid. I don't think he would be involved with anything like murder. You don't suspect him of that, do you?"
"Nae. I understand he might have been on tha stage with ah girl in Seattle. It could have been tha one ye met. I want tae know if they saw anythin that night. Someone must have seen somethin. I've had ah bit of information come tae me which makes me think tha person who slipped onto tha stage that night an rewired the amp, did so while Tatterson was on tha stage with ah groupie. Tha lad may have seen something that will give me ah clue as tae who tha person was."
Ed rocked the chair back on its back legs. "Do you think someone from outside murdered Vince?"
H.M. shook his head. "I dinnae know what tae think at this time. I've found out several things recently which surprised me ah great deal. There were undercurrents I was totally unaware of before. I certainly have an aversion tae thinking one of us is ah murderer. I like everyone in tha band. I like tha crew. I will need tae keep an open mind. Have patience Ed, I will keep you informed."
"Thanks, I appreciate it. I thought I put together a good crew. Except for two of the roadies, everyone was hired by me. Warren gave me the responsibility for rounding up a crew when he first began to put the tour together. I wouldn't want to think my judgment was so horribly wrong."
Ed put his notebook down on the tabletop then pushed it away. "This has put a strain on my credibility and I don't like it."
H.M. rose. He put a hand on Lori's shoulder. "Ready to go, luv? I would like tae get back tae tha hotel. I want tae call Warren."
With a smile for the older man, Lori rose. "Of course. I enjoyed having lunch with you, Ed. I did want to thank you for all the help you have given us throughout the tour."
Lori put out her hand to shake Ed's. He reached out and gave her fingers a quick squeeze.
"It's been a pleasure Mrs. Mac. If you two ever need a good hand, don't forget to call me."
"Ye can count on it, Ed." H.M. smiled at their head man. "Ye did ah good job. This mess with Vince should be no reflection on ye in any way. I'll contact ye as soon as I have some news, ye may count on it."
Ed walked them to the door of his apartment. "I'll call a taxi for you. It should be here in a couple of minutes. When you see Warren, say 'hi' for me."
When the door shut behind them, the couple walked toward the elevators. They weren't kept waiting long for a down elevator.
Once inside, Lori cuddled up to H.M. "Learn anything?"
"Aye, I did. I'll tell ye how it all fits together as soon as I understand it. This is more complicated than I ever suspected it could be. Odd, but, after all these years, my picture of Vince is undergoing some very great changes. I find it strange that I understand him better now than I did when he was alive. It's quite sad."
Squeezing the arm he had over her shoulder, Lori sighed. "When he was alive you had to put up with his nonsense. That always makes it harder to see clearly. Vincent didn't want anyone to understand his motives. He enjoyed being an enigma. Don't you start thinking he was wronged. 'Poor put upon Vincent'."
Lori could feel the stillness of the man. Her husband was exhausted and something more. She suspected the anger he felt toward Vincent was beginning to morph into grief. "He enjoyed being a bastard. Don't forget it. It's sad someone killed him, I agree. Just because he's dead, don't elevate him to plaster sainthood."
Her presence was comforting. The conversation with the two men had somehow affected him more than he realized. Was there something else he could have done to make Vince see the error of his ways? Did he let his anger dictate his reactions when he should have done something else?
"Och, well. I suppose there is tha tendency tae do exactly that. It's the way he died. It makes one feel sorry for him." H.M. hugged Lori.
They walked out of the elevator to wait in the empty lobby for the taxi. Lori turned, wrapped both arms around his waist and put her head on his chest. "You're probably dead tired."
Hamish's hands rested lightly on her hips. "Humm. I could use ah long soak in ah hot tub. But, I need tae call Warren about Vince's girl. Dinna let me forget. I need tae find out what her address is an tae ask if he set up an appointment. I want her version now."
The taxi stopped in front of the door. Before the driver could get out of the car, Hamish and Lori walked out of the lobby then through the security entrance. Lori gave the driver the name of the hotel.
She nestled close to H.M. as the cab sped away. "Shall we make an early night of it?"
"Certainly. I think ye have ah very good idea."
1The air conditioner in the cab did its best without success. H.M. felt hot and sticky. The color of the sky deterred him from opening the window. A slightly metallic smell permeated the cab as soon as the doors were opened.
The tiny tickle in his head increased as soon as he exited the car. A headache began to extend tendrils of pain inside his head. Several aspirins and a shower were immediate concerns.
While entering the lobby, his vision began to blur slightly. Lori led him through the lobby to the elevators which whisked them to the proper floor. He was grateful there was only one other passenger in the elevator. He craved silence. When they entered the room, Lori immediately drew the drapes against the sun which was now low in the sky.
"Two aspirins or three?"
"Four." He began to pull off his clothing. The shower would wait until he felt better.
"Gie me ah shot o scotch for ah chaser if ye will."
As soon as he had the sport coat and tie off, Lori handed him the pills along with a glass containing a stiff shot of whiskey.
"Ta." The aspirins were popped into his mouth then washed down with a gulp of the golden scotch.
"Hold still." Lori popped the snap on his jeans before lowering the zipper.
She peeled the material from his hips while he braced himself with a hand on her shoulder. As he lifted first one leg then the other, Lori pulled the pants off.
"To bed with you. Don't worry about phoning Warren. I'll take care of it. I know what you want. Just rest. When you feel better, we'll take care of everything else." She flipped back the covers, helped him into bed and drew the sheet up.
H.M. closed his eyes. His skull had become a bass drum. The throbbing was causing waves of colored pain behind his eyelids. It had been a long time since a headache of this intensity had struck. Stress, tension and frustration combined with lack of sleep had brought this one on. Slowly, the pills and alcohol began to take effect.
The floating sensation got stronger. As he drift
ed into a pre-sleep state, for an instant he heard a voice. Softly, it whispered something to him. A phrase, two words, 'he knew' were clear, the rest faded away into oblivion. Hamish followed.
Lori called Warren's room. "I need to talk to you. No, not here. Your place is best. Hamish has one of those headaches. I think it's the tension. He has been worrying this like a bull dog. I'll be there in a couple of minutes, as soon as I'm sure he is asleep. I'm going to disconnect the phone, so don't try calling. Bye."
Hanging up the phone, she went over to the wall jack and disconnected the wire. Opening the door to the bedroom, she glanced at the bed. Hamish had curled up on one side. It looked as if he was out for the count. Quietly, she shut the door. Lori left the suite and locked the door behind her.
She put the key in her pocket. The whole damn thing was a pain in the ass. Seeing Hamish exhaust himself over Vincent just pissed her off. Not that it would do to try to stop him. The man was indeed a granite brained Scot when he got something stuck in his craw. But, she didn't have to like it.
Lori huffed out a breath as she rode the elevator. Early on, she learned the man had an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. For the last two years she watched him effectively keep the band headed in the right direction, regardless of Vincent's bullshit.
Well aware of the nickname, the Head Master, the rest of the band had given her husband, Lori kept the information to herself. The damn man would have carried the equipment on his back if that was what it took to fulfill commitments.
It was one reason she agreed whole heartedly with his leaving the band. His inability to sleep as the rest of the world did, worried her. In an effort to help him, Lori researched the problem of insomnia. He must get out of the rat race of touring with a big band. Chewing on a cuticle, Lori exited the elevator and went down the hall to the music producer's room.
Warren's comment about Hamish taking the heat for everyone else had caused her to see red. Lori could have slapped him silly at that moment. Keeping their marriage a secret didn't bother her one bit. Warren's cavalier use of her man did.
Wired For Sound Page 12