by M. Z. Kelly
Basheeba went on, “According to my source, King was getting large quantities of drugs from Cruise and other doctors and reselling them to a major dealer. Apparently, things weren’t going well for him in the real estate business and he was supplementing his income.”
What she’d said fit with what we knew about King owing Biggs almost a million dollars, but it was the first I’d heard about the realtor dealing drugs. “And this source, I don’t supposed you’d be willing to tell me his or her name?”
She met my eyes, her brows inching together. “In a lot of ways were both in the same business. We operate based upon information. As we both know, the source of that information would dry up instantly if it was revealed.”
I had to admit that I liked Basheeba. She was intelligent and straight forward. “If you can’t tell me your source, can you tell me who King was dealing to?”
The attractive reporter smiled like a girl with a secret. “No, but I have an idea how you can find out. I’m told that Jerry King met with the drug dealer at the Alibar Hotel in the afternoon on the day Jiggy Biggs was killed. The hotel probably has security footage from that day. The video might not only tell you who King was meeting with but also provide the realtor with an alibi.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
After lunch I caught a cab back to Hollywood Station and met with Pearl. I explained to him what I’d learned from Basheeba. “So I’m in a fix. If I tell Edna what the reporter told me he’s going to come unglued and say I continued to work the case behind his back.”
Pearl’s lips parted. “Wouldn’t be too far from the truth.”
“I was just following up on a lead, pursuing information provided to me by a CI. I couldn’t just ignore it.”
“I think that’s your best play then. You tell the lieutenant exactly that.”
“And if he asks about my source?”
“Maybe you should take a page out of Harvey Gluck’s actor’s handbook—just play dumb.”
Ten minutes later Pearl and I were in Edna’s office. I laid out what I’d learned. The lieutenant mulled it over for a moment, then said, “So who gave you the information?”
I glanced over at Pearl, then back at Edna giving him my best clueless face. “It was a CI.”
“I know that. Who was it?”
“A woman named Rhonda Gaynor. She called about the information and we met for lunch.”
“Gaynor, huh?” He stared at me for a long moment and then looked over at Pearl. “Where are we on Bundt?”
Pearl filled him in and then said, “We can go by Sunset Studios, see if anyone there knows where Marcel Frost is living. We can stop at the Alibar Hotel when we’re finished, if you’d like.”
The lieutenant dragged a hand through his gray thatch, huffed out a breath, and looked at me. “Let me know what you find out.”
***
After spending most of the afternoon at Sunset Studios, we learned from a secretary that Marcel Frost had been staying with Adam Lexington, a well-known actor. Since it was getting late we decided to go by Lexington’s place in the morning and headed over to the Alibar.
The Alibar was a boutique hotel in the middle of Hollywood that almost no one knew about. The pink and white inn was off an alleyway and surrounded by hedges and high privacy walls, virtually sealing it off from the noise and traffic of the city. It was said that some of Hollywood’s elite had stayed there because of the privacy and confidentiality it afforded.
After showing our credentials, Pearl and I were met by Jessie Borders, a stout middle-aged man who was the hotel’s head of security.
“We have security cameras in the main lobby and at the entrances to the elevators on all the floors,” Borders said after showing us to a control room. If you’ll give me the date and approximate time you’re interested in I’ll pull up the video feed.
Pearl gave him the information and in a moment Borders was scrolling through the indicated date and time. It took him less than five minutes to find the footage we were interested in.
“That’s him,” Pearl said, as we saw Jerry King walking through the hotel’s lobby just before noon on the date Biggs was murdered. Another segment of video showed him getting off on the sixth floor of the hotel. Borders fast forwarded through the video feed and we saw that King didn’t leave the hotel until after seven, probably just in time to meet with Natalie and Mo. The time period he was at the hotel was consistent with the approximate time of death established for Biggs by the coroner, making it unlikely that Jerry King had committed the murder.
“I don’t understand why King didn’t tell us he was at the hotel,” I said to Pearl. “It would have provided him with a solid alibi.” I turned to Borders. “Can we get a list of guests who were staying on the sixth floor on the same date?”
The head of security made a few keystrokes on his computer, printed out the list, and handed it over to me. I scanned the names before looking up at Pearl in disbelief. “I think I know why Jerry King didn’t tell us about being at the hotel. He was meeting with Rafi Wayland, the leader of the largest gang in Hollywood.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“I’m ‘bout to go mad as a virgin in a house full of nuts,” Natalie said after Bernie and I got home that night.
I’d called the lieutenant after learning that Jerry King was with Rafi “The Righteous” Wayland when Jiggy Biggs was murdered. After a ubiquitous use of the F-word, Edna said he wanted to meet with Pearl and me the first thing in the morning.
“Baby sis is worried that she might have a medical problem,” Mo said as I took a seat on the sofa next to Lindsay across from her and Natalie.
I looked over at Natalie. “What’s wrong?”
“I read in one of them grocery shop rags ‘bout a condition that causes your vagina to close up from lack of sex. I think I could be a goner.”
Natalie was serious, but we all had a good laugh over what she’d said.
“It’s like riding a bicycle,” Mo said. “Once you find a guy, you’ll blossom again and be good as new.”
Natalie pushed out her lower lip. “Easy for you to say. I must be havin’ some kinda bad karma. Even Kate found herself a guy.”
I gave her a hard stare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Mo crossed her big arms and regarded me. “If you’ll remember, you ain’t had the best luck with men in the last couple of years ‘til the Marlboro man came along.”
She had a point. My divorce had shattered both my finances and self-esteem. I’d travelled a rocky relationship road until I’d met Buck. I hadn’t talked to him since our night in Malibu but planned to call him before going to bed.
“My boyfriend Eli has a friend,” Lindsay said to Natalie. “I could see if he could set you up.”
My gorgeous friend was apparently still depressed about her medical condition. “He probably looks like Claude or that troll living with him in the basement.”
I hadn’t heard any groaning since I’d gotten home and wondered if Dr. Lester was still among the living. The ancient little man looked like he could drop dead at any minute. I planned to talk to him about what I’d learned from the cold case unit on Van Drake’s disappearance before the night was over.
“Eli’s friend is pretty cute,” Lindsay said. “His name is Sonny.”
“Sounds like a dog.” She looked at Bernie. “Sorry, boy.”
“He goes to school part-time with Eli, but works as a fantasy broker.”
Natalie perked up. “What kind of fantasies are you talking about?”
“Just about anything you can think of.”
Mo leaned closer to Lindsay. “He sounds like some kinda pimp to me.” Her eyes narrowed on my sister. “And believe me, I’m an expert on pimps.”
She laughed. “I don’t think so. He told me about one of the fantasies he arranged. Someone he knew wanted to go up in space and experience weightlessness. Sonny arranged for a ride in something they call the vomit comet.”
I thought about Harvey Gluck as
Mo said, “It might not be a bad way to drop a few pounds.”
Natalie clapped her hands. Maybe she was over her earlier depression. “I’ve always had this fantasy ‘bout getting’ laid in the window display of that wedding shop over on Beverly Boulevard.” Lindsay giggled as she went on, “Okay, I’m game to take the bloke on ‘cause I’m desperate. See if your boyfriend can set us up.”
Natalie was going on about her medical condition as I excused myself and headed for the basement. On the way I found Claude and Dr. Lester in the kitchen, heating up something that smelled like it should be in a morgue.
“What are you fixing?” I asked Claude.
“It’s another one of my old family recipes. Just some liver and…” He looked at Lester whose grin reminded me of Gollum from Lord of the Rings. “…some other parts.”
I held my nose and said to Lester, “I talked to our cold case unit today. If you have a few minutes I’ll fill you in.”
He waved me toward the basement stairway. “Actually, I’ve also got something to show you downstairs.”
I prayed it wasn’t something dead that had recently lost its liver as I followed him into the basement and over to the now not-so-secret passageway that was Russell Van Drake’s hideout.
“It’s one of his shoes,” Lester said, sounding like a boy in a toy store when we got to the table where he had Van Drake’s belongings spread out. He held up what looked like it had once been an expensive loafer. It was faded and crusted with dirt. “I found it just beyond the pool house where those two ruffians are living. I think Mr. Van Drake could be buried there.”
I examined the shoe and filled him in on the cold case. “According to the detectives that worked on the case, cadaver dogs were used to search the entire grounds of the estate but they came up empty.”
“Hrumph. I know you own a dog, but they simply aren’t capable of detecting a corpse, especially one that’s buried beneath several feet of earth.” He motioned to the notes and letters that Van Drake had sent his love interests. “What about my other evidence?”
“With all due respect, I don’t think you have anything here that’s definitive…”
Lester’s ancient face hardened and his voice rose as he cut me off. “Van Drake was a reckless womanizer, a first rate scoundrel.”
“I agree, but that doesn’t mean one of the women he dated murdered him.” I glanced around the room at the shelves filled with boxes. “Maybe you should keep looking.”
He turned away from me and said, “I’m going to prove he was murdered, despite the incompetence of the authorities, even if it takes me another twenty years.”
“You’ll be lucky if you live another three weeks.” Okay, I was just fantasizing and didn’t say it. I did say, “I like your spirit,” and then walked away.
I took Bernie for an evening stroll around the grounds of the estate. He stopped and sniffed here and there. Despite Dr. Lester’s claims to the contrary, I didn’t see anything that looked like a gravesite. I then went inside and shared some leftover chicken with my roommates that tasted suspiciously like liver.
After saying goodnight to my friends, Bernie and I headed upstairs. I got ready for bed and then called Buck. We chatted for a few minutes as I told him about my day.
“I think we could be looking at a much bigger picture than what we know about Jiggy Biggs’ murder,” I said.
Buck agreed with me. “I just hope they don’t put that Hammer guy back on your case.”
I hadn’t even thought about that possibility. I exhaled and said, “If the case gets reopened, I wouldn’t be surprised. I don’t have much support with police administration, especially after the interview I did with the reporter.”
We chatted for almost an hour, Buck telling me that his cases on the island were uneventful. He then said, “Maybe you could come over to the island for the weekend. My niece went to stay with my brother so it would just be you and me.”
“And maybe some champagne beneath the stars?”
“You read my mind. Sweet dreams.”
I lay in bed awake for a long time after our conversation, anticipating my long weekend with Buck. I even had a fantasy about riding horses with him along the beach. I again had that feeling about the time we shared being moments of perfection. I prayed that it would always feel like this, the days that we were together being timeless and full of wonder. I held onto that thought as I drifted off into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed. I’d been awakened sometime after midnight by Dr. Lester’s groaning and the sound of water running. I got up and found Mo and Natalie in the hallway with some buckets. It had started raining during the night and our roof leaked.
After a cold shower, Bernie and I slogged down the hill to work, but my car began sputtering and backfiring. Thanks to my ex-husband ruining my credit I drove a green Ford Escort I call Olive that was built around the time Bill Clinton was enjoying cigars in the oval office. Thankfully, the engine leveled out as we made it into the city. My car burped and backfired as I parked at Hollywood Station.
Jessica Barlow came up to me as I got Bernie from the backseat. “That car makes you look like you’re homeless.”
“Mind your own business.”
She insisted on walking into the station with me. “How’s your new partner working out? I heard he wants to be an actor instead of a cop.”
“He’s doing fine.”
“Let me know if you’re ready to give up on him. Barry is transferring.”
It was the first I’d heard about her partner leaving. “Where’s he going?”
“Wilshire Division. He claims he needs a change.”
I met her beady blue eyes. “That’s understandable.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” I lied. “I’m sure he just needs a change of scenery.” Like someplace without you, Jessica.
When Bernie and I got to my desk, I saw Harvey coming out of the break room. He was casually dressed in slacks and a sports coat. When he got closer I saw that he’d lost the green contacts again.
“How are you feeling? I asked.
“Better,” he said, without the fake baritone. “You probably know that Pearl had a talk with me. I’ve decided to go all in with the job, put acting on a back burner.”
“I think that’s a good idea.” Thank you Wally World!
“That coroner friend of yours…”
“Brie?”
“Yeah. Do you think you could set something up for me to spend some time with her?”
“Of course.”
“I’ve got to find a way to deal with dead bodies. Maybe she could help me out.”
Speaking of the dead, Lieutenant Edna appeared at that moment, looking like he should be on one of the slabs in Brie’s morgue. “You two in my office, now.”
When we got to the lieutenant’s office, I saw that Pearl was already seated across from him. His brows darted up and his eyes shifted toward Edna. It was a silent signal that Henrietta, as we sometimes called him, was on the warpath.
“Based on what you found out at the Alibar we’re going to reopen the Biggs case, but it’s on the down low,” Edna began. “The Beast doesn’t want the press getting wind of our investigation until we get something solid.”
“What about King?” I asked. “Are we going to release him?”
“Not yet. You’re gonna need to question him about what you found out. If he was running drugs to Rafi Wayland he would have known that if he said anything about being with him when Biggs was murdered, his own fucking life wouldn’t be worth two cents.”
What he’d said made sense. The gang leader would have probably found a way to silence King, maybe permanently.
“Wayland’s also into the hip hop scene,” Gluck said. As if to explain his statement, he met my eyes and then Edna’s. “I’m just saying that because maybe he had a connection to Biggs since he was also a rapper.”
“
I’ve known Rafi Wayland since he was a kid,” Pearl said. “It’s the first I’ve heard of him being involved in drugs. But if that’s the case, things could turn ugly with Blood Nation real fast.”
Blood Nation was the name of Wayland’s gang. It had a reputation as one of the area’s oldest gangs, with members throughout the Los Angeles area. While there had been some violence associated with the gang in the past, in recent years the members seemed to have mellowed. The prospect of the gang being involved with King in dealing drugs also surprised me, but I also knew that in a gang that had hundreds of members anything was possible.
Edna looked over at me. “You need to question King about his relationship with Wayland, but you’ll have to work through his attorney, Preston Shepherd.”
I blew out a lung full of air. “The world’s biggest asshole.”
“I want you to try and set something up for this afternoon. Hammer also needs to be there.”
“Really?”
“Really. He’s the chief’s golden boy so you’d better learn to play nice.” Edna’s bloodshot eyes focused on Pearl again. “What’s happening on Bundt?”
“We got some information from a secretary at the studio that Marcel Frost is living with an actor, Adam Lexington. We plan to go by there today.”
“Make it happen.” The lieutenant looked at Gluck. “You okay, Harrison?”
My partner nodded. “I’m back to using Gluck and I’m fine.”
On the way out of Edna’s office Gluck said, “Adam Lexington. Wow.” I stared hard into his brown eyes. He blinked. “Forget I just said that.”
I called Preston Shepherd’s secretary and made arrangements for him to meet me at Men’s Central Jail at four that afternoon. I then called Carl Hammer and asked him if he could meet us there. Golden boy wasn’t happy about the case being reopened or meeting with King and his attorney, but grumbled his consent. I had the feeling that our relationship was only going to get worse.