Warren tapped the table top with one finger. "Frankly detective, I think you and your partner took advantage of the shock and horror we all were feeling. I have been a bit lax in my duties. I did correct the situation yesterday when I retained the attorney. My mistake,".
Leaning forward slightly, the older man went on. "I have lived in the UK too long. Things do move a bit slower there because they have good manners and tend to use them. Call the attorney, set something up. None of us will be speaking to you without the presence of an attorney from this moment forward."
Fredrick turned the card over in his fingers, glanced at it, then put it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "Fine. If you want to make things difficult, it can be arranged."
Warren shook his head. "We don't. However, there are rules to the game, Sergeant Fredrick. As a policeman, you don't make the rules, you just enforce them. None of us is going anywhere. You advised us to stay put, we have. You wanted statements, you got them. Now that I think about it, we have been as cooperative as is humanly possible, perhaps too cooperative."
Warren smiled broadly at the man. "We have nothing to hide. None of us killed the man. So, I would advise you to start pursuing the nut that did. I firmly believe that it was one of the lunatic fringe. So get cracking man. We want to know who did murder our associate. We may not have all been on good terms, then again, neither is everyone in any family situation. I want you to find the murderer. I think you like the thought of some hidden scandal being the motive here. How about simple insanity? There are enough loonies out there trying to do in their favorite stars. Pick on them for a while and leave us in peace to morn our loss."
The policeman silently walked away from the table. Warren took the bar napkin from under the glass. He began to mop his forehead with it.
H.M. shook his head in amazement. "I had forgotten how eloquent ye can be. Ye just earned yur percentage. He was threatening me, it was clear."
Warren leaned back with a sigh. He shut his eyes against the glare from the pool. "Of course he was. Thinking about it, I guess Vince's death hit us all harder than we thought. I suppose it is the only answer as to why I allowed the cops to talk to anyone without an attorney being present. It did bother me Hamish. I had never seen anyone electrocuted before. It was horrible. Vince may have been a bastard, but he did not deserve it. No one does. Get me a glass of water, please."
Warren was shaking slightly as he reached into his pants pocket for a small pillbox.
Immediately going in search of the waiter, H.M. returned a few minutes later, glass in hand, to the table.
"Here. What's wrong?"
"Ulcer." Warren placed a pill in his mouth then drank the water in several long swallows. "I'm getting older. All this is a bit too much for me. I will be glad to get back to business. First, we have to find out what happened to Vince. We can't go on like this. The cop is a fool, we need answers as much as he does. I am quickly losing any faith I may have had in them. Here Hamish."
Warren took out the notebook, tore out a page and handed it to H.M. "This is the attorney's number. I gave it to everyone else but you and Glen. Call Glen and advise him to refuse to speak with any of the cops without a lawyer present."
"Talk to the girl as soon as you get a chance. If anything else turns up, I'll let you know. I think all the cops are interested in is proving their pet theories. Keep me informed, will you?" Warren leaned his head against the tall back of the patio chair. He closed his eyes with a sigh.
"I think we should all get together an discuss tha matter." Hamish commented.
Warren opened his eyes, glanced at H.M. then nodded. "I suppose we should. You mean the whole band of course. Did you want to include the roadies in that?"
H.M. sat down. He flexed his fingers, staring blankly at them as he did so. "Nae sure yet." He was silent for a while. "It might be ah good idea. What if we had an actual jam, along tha lines of a wake? Is it proper?"
"Can't hurt. Everyone is sealed away in their own little cubby holes. A wake for the little prick might be a good idea." Warren smoothed back his gray hair with one hand.
H.M. shook his head. "Bit disrespectful, that."
"Oh, spare me H.M. When was Vincent ever respectful of anyone but himself? We certainly can't break with tradition at this late date. I'll find a place where we can have our wake in private, no reporters, and no cops. No one but the family, Bushmaster and company. I imagine you all will want to play?"
"Ask tha others. Find out what they want tae do. If they agree, count me in. Ye set it up an let me know. We could have ah meeting first, sound everyone out. Just give me tha particulars, when an where." Hamish looked around him. The warm sun was causing him to sweat. Or it might have been the entire situation he found himself in.
"Good point. We don't want to offend anyone's sensibilities. But, aren't we rockers just a bit nutty anyhow?" Warren chuckled to himself.
H.M. raised one eyebrow questioningly. "Do you really consider yerself a rocker?"
"Well damn all! What do you think I was doing as a teenager? Dancing to Jimmy Dorsey for heaven's sake? I was a rebel and a rocker. A greaser to be precise. I wore a black leather jacket and romanced any girl who would go for it. I tried to sing for a while, but my voice wouldn't hold up".
"I had a head for business, so I went into management on a full time basis. I'm in this business because I love it. All the other garbage stories are simply that, garbage. I tell myself it's the money, it's not. I love the business. I like to watch all the kids go crazy over you guys. There's some kind of magic which takes over on the stage. I had a taste of it. Once it touches you, it's awfully hard to turn your back on it. Old rockers never die, we just overdrive and blow all our circuits."
H.M. began to laugh and Warren joined him. They laughed until tears ran down their cheeks.
When they were finally able to get themselves under control, H.M. wiped his face on the bottom of his tee shirt. "Proper mess this. I will have tae go an change my shirt. It amazes me, tha things I'm learning about everyone. We have lived in one another's vest pockets for years an only learned tha most superficial things. Do you know how frightening that is, Warren?"
"Certainly. It means the possibility exists that one of us really did kill Vince. Perhaps I was more afraid of learning the truth than anything else. It may be the reason why I neglected to contact an attorney, as I should have in the first place. Denial. I was denying that anyone I thought I knew so well, could be capable of such an awfully evil thing. I may be old fashioned, but I still believe it's evil to kill another human being."
"Confession seems to be the order of the day, so I'll make another one. That's the thing that I liked the most about you boys. Your music didn't go on about how bad the world was and how we should kill everyone and let God sort them out. You pointed out the bad and hoped for a solution."
"You may have been into sex a great deal, but what harm is there in good clean sex between two people who are enjoying themselves? It's too bad AIDS came along to put a damper on free love. You know what they used to say in the sixties, "make love not war?"
H.M. nodded.
"They had a point as far as I'm concerned. What good is all the money in the world if everyone is trying to bump the other guy off to take it away? Answer that one for me Hamish."
"I've nae notion." H.M. replied quietly. "Ye were ah flower child as well?"
Warren nodded. "Yeah."
His voice was filled with an emotion H.M. took to be longing.
"We had some pretty high ideals. It's too bad so few of us tried to live up to them over the long haul. It might have been better for the world if everyone had jumped aboard the train and taken it as far as it could go. But, no. High ideals don't make millionaires. I think greed is the worst addiction of all. A few greedy people can take entire countries and enslave them. Have you ever thought of that?"
"Aye. Do ye know, I think yu're still an idealist." H.M.'s tone was gentle. "I never realized how much of one. We are m
ore alike than I might ever have imagined."
He leaned over to pat Warren's hand. "Bushmaster needs tae meet an talk this over. Per'aps we could get taegether in yur room this evening if everyone agrees. Try an put it taegether. As I willnae be speaking with tha good sergeant this afternoon, I will try tae get over an see Vince's last flame. I hav'tae go now. Will ye be alright?"
"Don't worry about me. It's just an attack of nostalgia. I'll get over it soon." Warren dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
H.M. rose from his chair. "See that you dinnae recover entirely. I like ye better this way. 'Tis nice tae see tha human beneath tha business man."
"Get out of here Hamish. I've had enough for one session."
1H.M. opened the door as quietly as possible. Glancing in the direction of the couch, he found Lori hard at work, sketchpad in hand and headphones on. She was oblivious to everything, but the drawing on the pad. H.M. noticed an empty plate on the end of the coffee table. She had taken the time to eat that pleased him.
He went into the bedroom to change his tee shirt. Interruptions would probably not be welcome at this point. After changing, H.M. located the phone number Warren had given Lori for Evie Morgan. He placed the call from the bedroom extension.
Vince's girl was not staying at the same hotel as the rest of the band. Warren had found her a suite at a motor inn near the beach. The police had made Vince's room off limits. As the girl needed a place to stay, and it was apparent the coppers would not be providing anything, Warren stepped in.
An extremely light, breathy voice answered the phone. H.M. was put off guard for a moment. Evie Morgan sounded no more than fourteen or fifteen at the most.
"Evie?"
"Yes. Who is this?"
"MacGrough calling. Warren gave me yur number. I wanted tae call an arrange ah time for us tae meet this afternoon. I wanted tae talk tae ye about Vincent, actually."
"Sure. Come over any time you want. Sitting around here waiting is a dead bore. I don't know anyone here. I'm from Phoenix. I sure will be glad to get back there. Johnny Law won't let me go home yet and I'm tired of sleeping. Just come on over whenever you feel like it and I'll be here."
"Within tha hour per'aps?" Hamish asked.
She laughed. H.M. realized she was laughing at him.
"Whenever, babe."
There was something about her voice which had changed slightly. The sensual quality caused him to be even more formal than usual.
"Thank ye, Miss Morgan. I shall be over shortly. Ta." Hanging up the phone, Hamish stood looking down at it for a moment.
He had always known Vince liked his women hot and easy. But there was something about the girl's voice, something so blatantly obvious, it grated across his nerves. He was reluctant to face her.
Lori walked into the bedroom, the headphones dangling from her arm. "Look. What do you think of this?"
She flopped down on the side of the bed. Looking at the sketchpad she was holding out, he sat down beside her. It took a moment or two for him to shake off the odd feeling the short conversation with the girl had brought on.
"What have ye been about now?" He focused his attention on the sketchpad. As they were discussing Lori's latest ideas, the phone rang. Leaning over toward the bedside table, she automatically reached for it.
"Hello Ed. How are you today? Yes, I recall the name, Jim Tatterson is the young man who was on the stage the last night in Seattle. So, the cops want to drag him to the police station for questioning?"
H.M. waved a hand in front of her.
"Hold on a moment." She put one hand over the mouthpiece.
Removing the piece of paper Warren had given him out of his jean pocket, H.M. glanced at it. "This is tha name of tha solicitor Warren has engaged. Have tha lad contact this firm. Warren told Fredrick nae one was talking tae tha polis without counsel from this point forward. I am not sure he meant tae include tha roadies, but we'll sort it out later."
Lori gave Ed the number. "So, he wants to talk with H.M.? Hold a minute."
She held out the phone to H.M., who took it reluctantly.
"MacGrough here. Unfortunately, I have ah prior appointment. Just ah moment." He put the mouthpiece down on his thigh. "I'm tae go see Evie Morgan shortly. Do you want tae stay here an meet with Tatterson? We need tae find out if he saw anything that night. I will fill ye in on tha confrontation with Fredrick in ah moment."
"Confrontation?" Lori grimaced. "I don't like that word. O.K., I'll stay here and have a chat with Tatterson."
H.M. put the receiver to his ear again. "Lori will be here. Ye an Ed can come over now. Tell her everything ye can recall about tha night. I will contact ye as soon as I return tae tha hotel. Call tha solicitors at once. Get tha polis stalled off first."
He handed the phone to Lori. She gave Tatterson their room number. Then instructed him to call her if things did not work out, and he was forced to go to the station. After a brief conversation, she hung up the phone.
"The police haven't actually gotten in touch with him yet. But, they have been looking for him. So far, he has managed to avoid them altogether. I wonder why he is so reluctant to answer any questions."
She looked up at Hamish. "What's this about a confrontation with Fredrick? I thought you were going to try to put him off until this afternoon?"
"Correct." H.M. put an arm around Lori's shoulders.
As he began to explain, he pulled her against him. "I went looking for Warren tae discuss Glen's contract an got more than I bargained for. It was as I suspected, Glen was tied up for ah five-year term. We formed ah partnership, Warren and I, we each have a percentage of Glen's music. Warren wanted me tae go tae tha jam last night so I could pass judgment on Glen's stuff."
Lori tensed beneath his arm as she waited for the other shoe to drop.
"I located Warren out by tha pool, his favorite watering hole these days. While we were discussing Glen, Fredrick turned up. He made ah nasty remark an..."
"And you replied in kind." Lori finished for him. "Not a smart thing to do, my dear."
"Quite right. I realized it shortly after tha fact. To continue, Fredrick made ah threat."
"What did he say?" Lori took his hand and squeezed it.
"Dinna concern yourself with it, it's of nae consequence. Warren took him on. Warren had already hired tha solicitors. He told Fredrick tha polis will have tae deal with them from now on. He was quite forceful, our Warren earned his cut today."
"I do not like this! Could we be mistaken? Could one of us have murdered Vincent? Do the cops know something we don't?"
H.M. rubbed his hand down her bare arm, stroking her. "I've considered it. Frightening, truly frightening. Might ye be thinkin about Glen?"
Lori looked up at him before she nodded slowly. "Yes. What if....Do you think he could have killed Vincent over Francie? Do you think he really could have done it? The possibility exists, doesn't it?"
Hamish closed his hand around her upper arm. "Now, dinnae get upset. Leave be for tha moment. I have tae leave now, luv. I have made an appointment with Evie an dinnae want her tae get angry an refuse tae discuss tha matter. I had best nae be late. I must go. Stay calm. See what ye can learn from Tatterson. We will compare notes when I return. Dinna worry tae much about Glen right now."
H.M. gave her a quick hug and kiss before rising to leave. Lori sat on the bed where he had left her. If the murderer thought H.M. was getting close, would he turn on them, in particular H.M.? She didn't like to speculate on it. Perhaps, anyone was capable of murder in certain situations.
Not only were they searching for a killer, now the cops were going to be a problem. Damn H.M.'s quick tongue. If only he hadn't antagonized Fredrick. Up until today they had moved about pretty much as they pleased. Security would probably be tightened now. Slipping past the law, was about to become a much more difficult proposition.
Lori rose from the bed and put her Walkman on the nightstand. Ed and Tatterson would be here soon. She might as well get the living ro
om straightened up.
Locating the notebook she was keeping, Lori took it with her into the other room. She would make the entries after the meeting was over. That way she wasn't likely to frighten the boy.
"Damn it to hell! We are in a real pickle." She mumbled as she cleared the dishes up and stacked them on the trolley.
The taxi ride was short. As H.M. paid the bill, he watched an unmarked polis car turn into the parking lot. It stopped a short distance away. He was certain he over paid the cabbie by a substantial amount as the driver sped off as quickly as possible to avoid being called back.
His attention on the unmarked cop car, which was following him, Hamish did not pay attention to the money he was counting out.
Ah, well, he thought to himself, likely, it will be put tae good use.'
Turning, he studied the room numbers on the doors circling the pool behind the wrought-iron gate. Evie Morgan's room would be on the second floor. It was difficult for him to act as if he didn't know his movements were being observed. Once Bushmaster became famous, he often felt like a fish in one of those small, round bowls. This was much worse. Knowing the law had its eye on him, was unnerving.
The gate didn't open when he tried the knob, Hamish realized it must open from the inside only. He was forced to go to the office entrance. A desk clerk took his name and called Ms. Morgan to confirm he was expected. H.M. waited impatiently for the clerk to finish.
Everywhere you went in Los Angeles there were security measures to be dealt with. He wondered if the people living here realized they were not much better off than prisoners. Survival in Northern Ireland, was much like survival in Los Angeles.
Walking back to the gate, he pushed on it and it opened with a click as the desk person buzzed him in. Finally allowed entrance to the main portion of the motor lodge, Hamish trotted up the stairs.
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