True Detectives
Page 30
“To party. All of us.”
Aaron said, “You and Ax were going to do a threesome with Adella.”
“I didn’t know her name. He said a real piece of ass he knew from Riptide, she was wild.”
“Perfect for a threesome.”
“It never happened,” said Book. As if he still regretted that.
“What did happen, Mason?”
“We went to a hotel.”
“Which one?”
“The Hyatt.”
“Which Hyatt?” said Aaron, certain he knew the answer.
Book said, “Sunset.”
Five-minute drive from Swallowsong. “Next to the Comedy Store.”
“Yeah.”
“The party was at the hotel.”
“When we got there, Ax said no, let’s do it different, out in the open.”
“Outdoor party.”
“Sounded good to me,” said Book. “Ax went in and came out with her.” Book shivered. “You know about the baby, right?”
Aaron’s heart pinged with joy. He kept his face grave. “Like I said, Mason, I know all kinds of things. So Adella came out of the hotel with Ax and the baby.”
Nod.
“Where were you?”
“In the truck.”
“Where was the truck?”
“Parking lot of the hotel.”
“Ax wasn’t afraid of leaving someone famous like you in a truck in a hotel parking lot?”
“He told me to lay down in the back. We do that.”
“When?”
“When we don’t want me to be seen.”
And you just obeyed because you’re a brain-damaged fool.
Book said, “It was all wrapped up. Blue blanket. Guess it was a boy.”
“She goes to a party with a baby.”
“Pretty weird,” Book agreed. “She got in the back of the truck. I sat up and she was real happy.”
“Why?”
“Because she saw it was me.”
No brag, just stating the facts.
“You were the reason she was there.”
“Yup.”
“She thought she was hooking up for a date with just you.”
“Ax likes that,” said Book. “I meet girls, he meets girls.”
“Girls Ax couldn’t meet on his own.”
Book smiled. “He’s a little fat.”
“So he uses you as a lure.”
“Yup.”
“He did that with Adella.”
Book said, “Because he wanted to kill her.”
Aaron’s airway constricted. He forced himself to breathe easy. “He told you that.”
“I figured it out. When she didn’t come out.”
“I thought she did come out of the hotel.”
“She came out of there,” said Book. “But not the park.”
“The park,” said Aaron. “Let’s back up for a minute, Mason. You picked up Adella at the Hyatt, where you thought the date was going to be. But Ax wanted to party outdoors so you drove to a park.”
“Yup.”
Killed where she was dumped? Moe had said no. “Griffith Park.”
“Not that park,” said Book. “One near the beach. She said it was too far. I paid her some money and she was okay. Even with the baby in front and crying a little.”
“The baby was in front of the truck?”
“In a baby seat,” said Book.
“Ax brought a baby seat.”
“He told her don’t worry, we got a baby seat. Said he was a daddy himself. He had other stuff, too.”
“Like what?”
“Diapers, bottles.”
“Did you find that weird?”
Book blinked. “I guess. I wasn’t thinking about babies.”
“Is Ax a daddy?”
“No,” said Book. “He murdered her, so I guess lying was no big deal.”
First time the idiot had expressed anything resembling insight. Maybe his head was clearing. Aaron preferred him zoned out and blabbing, decided to keep the questions minimally threatening. “I think I’ve got the scene, Mason. You and Adella are in the backseat of the truck, the baby’s in front, in a baby seat, everyone’s chilled out.”
“Not her,” said Book. “She was a little ... like nervous. I gave her more money.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know ... maybe five thousand?”
“Five thousand dollars?”
“Maybe two. Three, six, I don’t know, it was a bunch of hundreds, I get them in stacks for allowance.”
“You get cash delivered.”
“By Myron,” said Book. “He’s my business manager. Sometimes Ax goes to the ATM.”
“Ax has your PIN number.”
“I don’t like to go places.”
“Okay,” said Aaron. “Back to that night. Which park at what beach?” Knowing the answer.
“Way out,” said Book. “Past where his dad lives, his dad’s got a big place somewhere.”
“You’ve been to his dad’s place?”
“Nope, it’s on the land side. I like the beach side.”
“This way-out beach—”
“Leo Carrillo,” said Book. “He was an actor.”
“Who was?”
“Leo Carrillo.”
“That so.”
“Yup.” A trace of smugness had oozed into the actor’s voice. Guy was a shriveled wreck, but he could still one-up an outsider. “He played Mexicans in cowboy movies. They named a beach after him.”
Aaron said, “I know Carrillo. Pretty place.”
“Real pretty,” Book agreed. “The park’s on the land side but the water’s right across the highway, you can hear it. I like that sound, maybe I’ll move to the Colony or something, so I can sleep.”
“Did Adella think she was going to Ax’s dad’s place?”
Book gaped. “You really know stuff.”
Aaron smiled. “Then when Ax passed the turnoff for his dad’s place ...”
“She said, ‘Hey, where we going.’”
“And Ax said ...”
“Nothing. He just kept driving. It wasn’t that far after.”
“Then what, Mason?”
Book licked his lips. Rotated his head, like some yoga exercise. Creaked audibly.
“Ax pulls in front of some gates, gets out of the truck, she’s saying ‘What the fuck?’ He opens the door, pulls her out. Real hard.”
Book’s eyes closed. “I hate guns.”
“Ax had a gun.”
“When he brings it I always say put that away.”
“What happened next?”
“The baby cried. Ax put the gun in her back and told her to walk.”
“Into the park.”
“Yup. She said ‘Fuck you!’ and started to cuss him out. Ax twisted her arm real hard and real quick and she started screaming. The baby was really screaming. I put my hands over my ears.”
Demonstrating.
Gently, Aaron lowered Book’s hands. “Then what did Ax do?”
“Hit her in back of the head with the gun and when she fell he put his hands around her neck.” Another lip-lick. “Cars were driving by on PCH. It was weird.”
“Too dark for them to see anything, but you could see it.”
“I didn’t look. The baby was crying. Ax finished with her, put her back in the truck. Next to me. It smelled.”
“What did?”
“She shit herself. The baby’s really crying.”
“Must’ve been scary for you, seeing as you didn’t expect anything but a three-way party.”
Book went silent.
“Your feelings are important, Mason. To me.”
“I was ... it was like ... I was pretty wasted.”
“On what?”
“A little blow, a little ice. To get up.”
“Up from what?”
“Xanax. Restoril, Valium, Ambien ... stuff.”
Unwilling to admit to sniffing heroin. Aaron had seen that before. Ups
cale junkies ’fessing to everything but H.
Book said, “We did some E, too. It wasn’t making me happy.”
“Because you’d just seen Ax murder Adella.”
“My whole head was ... I was surprised.”
“By what happened.”
“She was so pretty,” said Book. “I was surprised at how she got to smelling real bad. After that...”
“After that, what, Mason?”
“We-ell... my head got real noisy. I stopped sleeping. Stopped eating, too.”
“Because you felt bad about what happened.”
“I went to the hospital,” said Book. “I wasn’t sick but my doctor said go.”
“Because you weren’t eating and sleeping.”
“They wanted to feed me in the veins,” said Book. “I said no, not there yet.”
“Not ready to be fed.”
Book’s arms shot out. Begging to be touched.
Aaron sat there. “Feeling guilty’s what good people do, Mason.”
“She came to meet me. She wanted to be famous”
“What happened after Ax put Adella back in the truck?”
Book’s arms dropped. “He said, ‘We got to dump her somewhere.’”
“That’s when you went to Griffith Park.”
“Really long drive,” said Book. “It smelled gross and the baby was screaming. Ax told it to shutthefuckup but that didn’t help so he played Pink Floyd really loud.”
“What happened at Griffith Park?”
“We took her into where it was dark and put her on the ground.”
“You and Ax.”
“He didn’t want to carry her by himself, get her stuff all over him, so he took the feet, I took the hands. She kind of swung.” Book stared at Aaron. “He spread her legs, said that makes it look like Ted Bundy That was bad, huh? Helping him.”
“You’re doing the right thing right now, by talking, Mason. What happened to the baby?”
“Ax drove me home.”
Aaron repeated the question.
“The baby was in the truck.”
“Ax took it somewhere.”
No answer.
“What did Ax do with the baby, Mason?”
“We didn’t talk about it.”
Now Aaron did grace the fool with an angel’s touch. Standing and resting his palms on Book’s fragile shoulders. “You’re doing great, Mason, but we need to take it all the way. What did Ax do with the baby?”
“Don’t know, we don’t talk about it.”
“To set things straight, Mason, guilt’s not enough. You need atonement.”
“Guilt and atonement,” said Book. “Sounds like a movie.”
“A good one, Mason. You could star.”
Book’s laugh was nasal, eerie. Wriggling free from Aaron’s touch, he pincer-grasped the front of his own neck, pulling a pale flap of skin forward. “Not a star. Not there yet.”
“Not where?”
Book’s eyes clamped shut. Still holding on to the neck flesh, he twisted.
Aaron pried the fingers loose. Book’s neck remained pallid. Guy’s body was so starved, he couldn’t even bring blood to the surface.
“Mason, there’s another girl. Caitlin.”
“Who?” said Book.
“Blond, twenty, worked at Riptide.”
Book’s brow creased. Twenty seconds of what looked like sincere contemplation.
Head shake.
“Caitlin Frostig,” said Aaron. “Rory’s girlfriend.”
“Rory. He’s my P.A.”
“Gofers for you.”
“Yeah.”
“He have your PIN number, too?”
“No, he uses the petty cash.”
“For what?”
“Buying what I need.”
“That include blow and ice and stuff?”
Book frowned. “He shouldn’t be in trouble.”
“Why not?”
“He’s a good P.A.”
“There when you need him.”
“Yup.”
“Caitlin Frostig was his girlfriend.”
No answer.
Aaron said, “Long blond hair, twenty, went to school with Rory—”
Book said, “The hostess.”
“You know her.”
“Cute,” said Book. “I like girls to be blond and tall.”
“Ever party with her?”
“She wouldn’t want it.”
“How do you know?”
“She liked Rory. Rory said they’re in love.”
“I’m sure you’ve partied with lots of girls who have boyfriends.”
“Yeah,” said Book, “but you can tell which ones are going to step out.”
“Rory ever talk about Caitlin?”
“Just that.”
“Good P.A., huh?”
“His dream is to agent. I said I’d help him when he’s ready.”
“When will that be?”
“When he finishes school. He wants to finish school.”
Aaron sat back down. “Mason, is there anything you want to tell me about Caitlin Frostig?”
“Like what?” The guy was an actor, but Aaron was sure he wasn’t performing. Visions of Mr. Dmitri’s scowling face filled his head.
“Like anything, Mason.”
“We-ell,” said Book. “She was like that David Lee Roth song— ‘California Girls.’ But not ripe to party.”
“Why not?”
“You can just tell.”
“Bet you can, Mason—okay, I need to get you out of here. In case Ax comes back.”
“He’s at his dad’s. I sent him there. Sent everyone away.”
“Who’s everyone?”
“Rory. Kimora.”
“Who’s Kimora?”
“She cleans.”
Wanting to be alone for his final swan dive.
Aaron said, “I still want you out of here. Let’s get some clothes on.”
In the huge, slovenly dressing room of a huge, slovenly bedroom topped by a vaulted skylight, Aaron found silk jockey shorts from a Savile Row shop, size 29 Rock & Republic jeans, a black Gucci sweatshirt, thousand-dollar alligator loafers. Book dropped his robe without embarrassment, stood there again, rubber-limbed, as Aaron dressed him. The jeans were too big; Aaron cinched a python-skin belt around the actor’s waist.
“Looking sharp, Mason.”
Book laughed.
“What’s the code to open the gate?”
“Don’t know ... Kimora does it.”
“Where can I find it?”
“In the kitchen.”
“Show me.”
A card next to the kitchen phone listed a series of gate controls and various service numbers. Aaron chose an option that would hold the gate open indefinitely. If anyone asked, he’d claim he found it that way, no trespassing had taken place.
That failed to explain why he’d made his way up the drive, just happened to be there when Book nearly plunged to his death. But this was about murder and he’d saved a life and he figured he was pretty safe.
“Okay, pal, let’s boogie.”
Book didn’t budge. Fool was staring at the chrome Traulsen from which he’d taken the can of supplement.
Then it came to Aaron: attempted last meal. Book had seen himself as a prisoner. Still couldn’t bring himself to go out with a full stomach.
“Want anything before we go, Mason? A snack? Maybe something to drink?”
Book stepped back from the fridge while shaking his head slowly.
“Your angel thinks you should eat something, Mason.”
“Uh-uh,” said Book. “Not there yet.”
“Not where, Mason?”
The actor repeated the pincer-grasp of neck-skin. “Too fat.”
CHAPTER
42
Talk about the money shot.
Aaron framed it mentally like the prize photo it was, even as he experienced it.
Mason Book shuffling down Swallowsong Lane, arm in arm with a
n “unnamed companion.” Not a paparazzo in sight.
How much could I sell this to the tabs for?
Book stumbled.
“Easy, Mason.”
Unnamed black companion. No doubt they’d assume he was a bodyguard, maybe with an ominous past.
Aaron could live with that.
Book didn’t fuss as Aaron put him in the Opel’s passenger seat.
Muttering, “Nice wheels. They driving this in Heaven?” and promptly falling asleep.
Aaron poked him to make sure he wasn’t faking, then belted him in. Fishing out the plastic wrist ties, he used three: linking both of Book’s hands together, then tying the right loop to the lap belt. No big deal freeing the belt, but in the actor’s current mental and physical state, the setup was as good as a steel cage.
Now, where to take him?
Slipping the key into the ignition, Aaron remembered the three missed calls, checked his cell.
A trio of texts from Liana—one text, actually, repeated three times. relbl source: riptide adlla w dmnts never bk
Now he knew where he had to take his new pal.
Moe got the call as he and Petra were finishing coffee and eggs at a Denny’s near Hollywood Station. Raymond Wohr was stashed in a solitary cell having downed a repast of donuts and Hershey bars and Mountain Dew.
Aaron said, “Working late, Moses. I figured I’d get your machine.”
“Busy night.”
“It’s going to get busier. I’ve got someone you’ll want to meet.”
“Who’s that?”
Aaron told him.
Moe said, “Did you do something illegal that’s going to screw us over?”
“Me? I’ve been an angel.”
Moe and Petra showed up at Aaron’s office thirty-five minutes later. Mason Book was still totally out of it, napping peacefully under a down-filled Frette duvet, in the guest room that rarely saw action. The plastic ties remained in place, the right one now circling a stout, brass bedpost.
The actor had snoozed through everything, not even stirring when Aaron slung him over his shoulder and hauled him up the stairs. Book had stayed so inert that Aaron checked his breathing a couple of times. Nice and steady, good strong pulse. The second time Aaron poked him, Book’s eyes opened and he smiled like a happy kid and went under again.
Some of that was probably post-adrenaline letdown, but Aaron figured a blood test would reveal all sorts of interesting biochemistry. No doubt some defense attorney would pounce on that and try to invalidate the tape. Now transferred to one of Aaron’s computers and copied to a disk locked in Aaron’s business safe.