by M. Z. Kelly
I heard his sigh. “If you’d asked me that a couple of weeks ago I’d have said no way. Now…I’m just not sure. I know that she was off her meds and using street drugs for a while. Maybe that’s been a factor.”
I walked Bernie along the edge of the fence as Buck talked and thought about our relationship. What had seemed like perfect moments in a perfect relationship had been shattered over the past couple of days. Now the world felt as though it had suddenly and forever shifted, our time together feeling like it had been a lifetime ago.
I asked the other question that had been consuming me. “I’m not sure what this means…for us?”
There was another pause before he said, “I think we need to give it a few days, see what happens.” I thought he might be gathering his emotions before he spoke again. “I want us to be together again soon. Just give me some time to work things out here.”
***
I got to Hollywood Station early that afternoon. My conversation with Buck had left me feeling defeated. I had the impression that for the first time he’d realized just how deeply disturbed his ex-wife was and he was unsure what to do about it. From my experience as a cop I knew that the mentally ill were often left untreated and too often ended up homeless and forgotten. I didn’t know if Colleen was dangerous, but I did know that I needed to be vigilant.
Harvey was at his desk when Bernie and I arrived. After settling in, I mentioned the discussion I had with Brie earlier that morning. “She thinks you’re doing well in overcoming your problem.”
His eyes brightened. I had the impression my new partner was making a genuine effort to overcoming his failings. “Did she tell you that I helped remove a brain?”
I nodded, seeing that Jessica was standing in the hallway a couple of feet away. “I might even let you work on a live body one of these days.”
“I heard that remark and believe you were referring to me,” Jessica said, coming over to us. As she took a couple of steps in our direction, Bernie growled. “That mutt isn’t safe to be around. He acts like he’s rabid.”
“You would be an expert on that.”
“You’re starting to sound just like that fat-ass ex-partner of yours.”
“Watch your mouth.”
She shot daggers at me before turning her beady blue eyes on Harvey. “I heard you’re doing morgue therapy, trying to overcome your weak stomach.”
My partner played dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Everyone knows that you barf at the sight of blood and you’re doing detention at the body shop.”
Harvey surprised me by standing up and going over to her. “Listen to me. I don’t make disparaging remarks about your weight…”
“What?”
“Or the fact that you wear a ton of makeup to cover up bad skin…”
“I will not…”
Harvey wagged a finger at her and cut her off. “And I will not listen to another one of your disparaging remarks—ever. LEAVE.”
Jessica snarled and scampered off, saying something about filing a complaint.
“Bravo,” I said, grinning as he sat back down.”
Harvey smiled. “Sometimes my acting skills come in handy.”
“I think what you did came naturally and I like it.”
We spent the next hour pushing paper around, until Lieutenant Edna called us into a meeting when Pearl arrived. The lieutenant looked a little more rested than the last time I’d seen him, but he still looked like a man in need of a long vacation.
“Wayland’s still in the wind, but as we all know, it’s a federal matter now,” Edna said. “They want him bad so they can take themselves off the hot seat after last night’s botched raid.”
“So where does that leave us on Biggs’ murder?” I asked.
“We continue to work the case. If Wayland’s good for it, we let the feds know. If not we take down whoever’s responsible.”
“I’ve made arrangements for us to meet with Kristi Steiner this afternoon,” Pearl said. “She was less than happy about talking to us, but agreed to meet when I told her it would be in her best interests.”
“In the meantime, I’m going to bring in a couple of other detectives to help sort through Bundt’s victims,” Edna said. “Gooch and Glade will take a look at everyone who was spied on, see if they can narrow down the list to whoever might have wanted revenge.”
“Your two favorite detectives,” I said, remembering that Edna was less than thrilled with the Douche Brothers, as some cops called them. The duo had a reputation for acting like a couple of teenage boys in heat.
“They’re between cases. We just have to make it work.”
As we were headed for the door, I asked the lieutenant if Carl Hammer would be working the case with us.
“The chief has a special assignment for him, so he’s out for now.”
Before leaving the station to interview Kristi Steiner, we met with Kyle Gooch and Eric Glade in the station’s largest conference room. Harvey had set up the room with copies of the videos taken from Bundt’s backyard shed and a list of over forty victims. My new partner planned to stay behind and assist with cataloguing the victims.
Gooch glanced up as Pearl and I walked in. The older of the two detectives was about six feet tall with highlighted gelled hair. When he spoke, he reminded me of a high school boy who hung out at the beach. “Just my bro and me, and a roomful of porn. It’s tough duty, but I think we can deal.”
“I just hope we don’t see anything that traumatizes us,” Glade said. He was younger than Gooch and handsome in a boyish way. “I have a very sensitive psyche.”
“You two are about as sensitive as a couple of teenage boys in a girl’s locker room,” I said. “I think you can deal.”
“We’ll just have to suck it up,” Gooch said to his younger brother.
“I’ll bend over and take one for the team,” Glade said.
Before we left I said to Harvey, “Good luck with these two, you’re going to need it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Pearl and I met with Kristi Steiner at a small restaurant called LaLa’s in West Hollywood, a city that bordered Hollywood to the east, the Fairfax District to the south, and Beverly Hills to the west. The area was known for its eccentric nightlife and progressive political agenda.
Barry Steiner’s wife was in her late twenties, blonde and slender. She wore a pair of dark sunglasses and was already seated on the patio at the side of the establishment. I saw that she’d already ordered a salad and bottle of expensive water. After a server came over and Pearl and I ordered iced tea, Kristi Steiner wasted no time telling us that she didn’t want to be there.
“This meeting is a ridiculous waste of my time. If you want information about Jiggy Biggs you can get it from my husband.”
“There are some things your husband can’t tell us about,” Pearl said, his voice becoming confidential.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Pearl lowered his voice even further. “We know that you and Mr. Biggs were involved in a relationship at one time.”
“What?” She tossed her napkin on the table. “I’m not going to sit her and listen to this crap.” She stood up.
I didn’t like her attitude and decided to level with her. “We have the sex tapes.”
I couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses, but imagined they were the size of two full moons. “What?”
“You and Biggs having sex. It’s all on tape.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I’m afraid it’s true,” Pearl said.
“I demand…”
“You’re in no position to demand anything,” I said. “Sit down and let’s talk.”
She huffed out a couple of breaths and complied. Her tone became hushed. “I don’t understand any of this.”
I leaned in closer to her. “Let me spell it out for you, then. Someone secretly videotaped you and Mr. Biggs having sex in his penthouse condo on Highland. Ther
e were also some videos taken at other locations.”
Kristi Steiner didn’t respond right away. She drew in a couple of shallow breaths, maybe trying to control her emotions. “I need the video. It was just…” She released a ragged breath. “…it was a mistake.”
“A mistake that looks like it went on for some time.”
She lowered her voice, glanced around the restaurant. “Have you ever met my husband?” I nodded. “Then you know he’s the world’s biggest asshole. I was lonely and Jiggy…” She pushed up her sunglasses and used the napkin to dab at her green eyes. “He offered me some companionship.”
I nodded. “So I’ve seen.”
“The videos…I want them.”
“Tell us about Jiggy and you. How long did your relationship last?”
After gulping in another shallow breath she said, “About six months, or so…I can’t really remember.”
“During what period of time were you together?” Pearl asked.
“It ended about a year ago.”
“And how did it end?” I asked.
After another tear blot, Kristi said, “I found out Jiggy was involved with someone else and I ended the affair.”
“And this someone else…who would that be?”
For the first time since we’d met her, Kristi Steiner showed a flash of anger that wasn’t directed at us. “That idiot realtor on his show.”
I glanced at Pearl, back at her. “Gloria Powers?”
She nodded. “The woman is a wretched witch. I don’t know what he ever saw in her.”
After another twenty minutes going at Kristi Steiner, we got nothing more, other than another plea to give her the sex videos. When we explained the videos were part of a criminal investigation, Steiner became angry and stomped off, leaving us to pay the bill, both for our drinks and her meal.
While we waited for the server to charge our credit card, I told Pearl, “Gloria Powers was pretty uncooperative the last time Harvey and I talked to her. My guess is she’ll deny the affair with Biggs and we won’t get much out of her.”
“Let’s keep digging before we go back to her, see if we can get something more that ties her to Biggs.”
***
We got back to the station by early afternoon, where we found Gooch, Glade, and Harvey hard at work—if you want to call it that. Edna joined us in the conference room as Gooch said, “Our boy Bundt was a busy little beaver. We’ve got everything from videos of a couple of teenage girls having sex with their boyfriends in their bedrooms with their laptops open, to a few guys and gals getting happy with themselves while watching Internet porn, and even a three-way in a Beverly Hills guest house with the maid.”
“The maid cleaned up in more ways than one,” Eric Glade said. “She got a thousand from her employer and his boss.”
“I guess I’m going to have to start tipping my housekeeper better,” Harvey said. “Of course she doesn’t provide nearly the same services.”
“Anything more on Biggs?” Edna said, obviously annoyed by the banter.
“Just Jiggy getting jiggy with that Kristi woman,” Gooch said. “Lots of swinging from the rafters, some sex games, and a pool party—your basic Hollywood date night.”
“What about Bundt?” Pearl asked. “Was anybody being blackmailed who might have paid him back with something other than money?”
“He and his brother had seven active blackmail cases going on, including the one with Marcel Frost,” Harvey said. “Most of those cases involved the Bundt brothers sending emails directly to the victim’s inbox with the sex videos attached. They threatened to release the videos to everyone on their e-mail subscriber list and anyone they were friends with on Facebook if they didn’t pay up.”
“That way even mommy and daddy would likely get to see their daughter blowing their boyfriends,” Glade said. “It was pretty sufficient motivation to pay up.”
“How much were they getting?” I asked.
“Anywhere from ten to thirty thousand, depending on the victim’s resources. They worked one victim for almost a year,” Gooch said. He looked at a notepad in front of him. “A guy named Bobby Webster.”
I leaned forward. “Wait a minute. That’s Jiggy Biggs’ stepbrother.”
“So who was he having sex with in this fuck fest?” Edna asked.
“Don’t know,” Eric Glade said. “The scene was poorly directed. Our girl had her back to the camera.”
“Let’s see the video,” I said.
Kyle Gooch smiled. “I always did like a girl who likes to watch porn.” In a minute he had the scene of Biggs’ brother being given fellatio by a woman with long dark hair. The image was dark and it was impossible to make out any of her features.
“I’ve seen enough,” I said.
“Give it another minute, the plot thickens.”
We watched as the woman got into bed with Bobby. The scene was dark and it was still impossible to make out her features. As they began having intercourse the woman started screaming like it was the end of the world.
“You’d think Bobby boy was murdering her,” Gooch said, smiling at me.
I shook my head. “Maybe he crushed her. Turn it off.”
After Gooch closed the laptop we discussed both the Biggs and Bundt cases for several minutes, cases that had now crossed paths. After running several scenarios involving what happened to Biggs, I felt the need to process what we knew about both cases with the others.
“Our victim, Jiggy Biggs, is a former rapper, with some gang ties to Blood Nation. Once he leaves the music scene he becomes a realtor and sells a house to the gang leader Rafi Wayland. If what we’ve been told is true, Biggs and Jerry King start dealing prescription drugs to Wayland to supplement their income. It ultimately leads to a multi-million dollar drug business that involves importing heroin from Afghanistan using civilian and military contractors.”
“Until the heroin dries up,” Pearl said. “And Wayland’s suppliers become unhappy.”
I nodded. “So Wayland sends his second in command, Kenny Jenks, over to pressure Biggs about the drug supply problems.”
“Or maybe Jenks kills Biggs to send a message to King that the supply lines have to get reopened,” Harvey speculated.
“And then there’s the women and Biggs’ gambling debts,” I said. “Biggs is into Barry Steiner, the producer of Hollywood Gold, for a million dollars. Steiner hates Biggs, both because he was in love with his ex-wife, Leila, at one time, and because Biggs won a bet that allowed him to be on his TV show.”
“Meanwhile, Biggs is having an affair with Steiner’s wife, Kristi, and Gloria Powers, one of the realtors on the show,” Pearl said.
Gooch chimed in, “And George Bundt comes along and captures everything on video, including Biggs with Kristi and his bro Bobby with the mystery blow job babe.”
I turned to Edna. “The more I think about Biggs, the less it seems likely to me that Rafi Wayland was behind his murder. Wayland had too much to lose.”
“That leaves the women,” Edna said. “Let’s lean on Bobby in the morning, see what he gives up. We also need to talk to Barry Steiner.” He looked at Harvey and the brothers. “So where does that leave us on George Bundt?”
“With a bunch of people who had a reason to kill him, but no one looking good for it so far,” Gooch said.
“Unless…” Harvey’s voice drifted off as we all looked over at him.
“If you’ve got something spill it, Harrison,” Edna bellowed.
Harvey blushed and went on, “I was just thinking there was one person who had both the motive and opportunity to kill George Bundt—his wife.”
“Maybe Harv’s onto something,” Glade said. “Mama gets tired of daddy’s sex games and tells Georgie Boy to knock it off. Our peeping tomboy refuses, so mama drama whacks him where he works and sets up Frost to take the fall.”
“If that’s the case, Vivian Bundt would have entered Sunset Studios sometime during the day her husband was murdered,” Edna said. “We
got the visitor log for that day and she wasn’t on it.”
“Maybe she used someone else’s pass,” Glade suggested. “Georgie boy had regular access to the studio and poked his nose and camera into everything. Maybe he picked up a pass when he was planting his bugs and mommy dearest used it to her own advantage.”
“Let’s go over the visitor logs again,” Edna said. “And then let’s talk to Vivian Bundt.” He turned to Pearl and me. “And you two go lean on Biggs’ brother.” His eyes narrowed on me. “If one of Biggs’ fuck bunnies offed him, it means that Wayland’s off the hook for Biggs’ murder. And, if we can make something stick, it just might avert a gang war.”
“But Wayland’s still looking at life on the drug charges,” I said.
Edna nodded. “Let’s move on this first thing tomorrow.”
Bernie and I were on our way home when I got a call from Bob Woodley of SID. “We just got a positive DNA match on the knife taken the other day, Kate.”
I held my breath, dreading what he might say. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but who does it belong to?”
“It’s a positive match for the actress that went missing about three years ago, Bridget Welch.”
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
The following morning after a cold shower I looked out my bedroom window and saw that all hell had broken loose. There were crime scene vans in the driveway, four press vans lining the roadway, a half a dozen other cars, and a U-Haul van.
I quickly did what I could with my hair, slipped into my clothes, and hurried downstairs. I found all my roommates, Claude, Dr. Lester, and even Brie and her daughter were in the living room, along with John Duncan of the cold case unit and Bob Woodley with SID.
“Sorry, but my boss wanted us to get an early start,” Woodley said to me as Larry and Phyllis came through the front door, asking what was going on. The SID supervisor added, “Not sure how the press found out.”
“We’ll try to make this as unobtrusive as possible,” Duncan said. “But we’re going to need to remove all the property from the basement and catalogue it, then we’ll see about going over the grounds again.”