"You're kidding!"
"Nope. Nigel wants out of America. Don't you think that's strange? That he would try to leave to go home without the guys in the band, as close as they supposedly are?"
Thoughts of Keith telling me Philip wanted another, more powerful manager went through my head. Had the guys fired Nigel? Or was it worse than that? Was Nigel running from the police?
"Bebe, are you still there?"
"Yes. I was just thinking."
"Well, if you're thinking what I'm thinking, it looks really bad for Nigel. Stu says that the police will take this as direct disobedience of their orders not to leave town. It will make them look harder at Nigel as a possible suspect."
"That's what I was thinking."
"Maybe this will take some of the heat off of me, but somehow, Bebe, I can't picture Nigel as the murderer. He loved Philip too much."
"True, but remember, Darlene, Philip was talking about getting another manager. That could have put Nigel into a murderous rage. And just this morning Bradley let Nigel know that Rip-City isn't going to release the album."
"Oh, no! Are you going to tell Bradley about how Nigel tried to run?"
I sighed. "Yes, he'd better find out before it hits the newspapers in the morning."
"That Patty Gentry will be sure to get the story. Both stories—the album not being released and Nigel's trying to leave the country. That woman is slippery."
"Okay, I'd better go tell Bradley."
"Is he still there at the office?"
"No, he took a date to the 21 Club."
"Groovy! I've been there with Stu. It's some fancy place. I'll say this much for Bradley. When he wines and dines them, he goes all the way."
"Ouch. I wish you hadn't put it quite that way."
Darlene laughed. "Sorry."
"I have no choice but to interrupt Bradley and his date. A pity, isn't it?"
"Will you phone him at the club?"
I twirled a piece of my hair. "Oh, dear, no. I really think this news is best given in person, don't you?"
Darlene laughed. "Indeed, I do."
I looked off into space. "Sadly, the news will probably end their date."
Darlene snickered. "Yeah, I'll bet you're sorry about
that. Listen, Bebe, how about after you do that, we go to the guys' hotel room and commiserate with them about not having the album released? They might be in a talkative mood right now."
"True. Angry and talkative."
"Exactly. We might learn more. And we can tell them about Nigel before they hear it from anyone else. We can get their reaction to Nigel's trying to leave."
"You do think the police are holding Nigel? That he's not back at the hotel?"
"I wouldn't be surprised. Giving him the grill, you know."
"Okay, I like your plan. What about Keith?"
"You leave that to me, honey. After you've told Bradley the news, why don't you come home and put on something sexy? Then we'll go see the guys."
"I don't see why putting on something sexy has anything to do with the guys. Bradley's the one I wish I could come home and change for."
"Bebe, trust me on this."
"Okay. See you then, Darlene."
I hung up the phone, my nerves on edge. Why had Nigel tried to run?
"What's the matter, muffin-cup? Bradley making you stay late?"
Vince stood with his overcoat on and his briefcase in hand. Having done all he could to ruin everyone's day, he was now headed home.
I saw no reason to tell him about Nigel. The news would be all over the company and in the newspaper in the morning, if he didn't hear it on the late news tonight. "No, Mr. Williams doesn't force me to stay late. If I want to finish up work, I decide on my own to put in extra hours."
"I'm sure that makes him very happy," Vince said with a leer.
I felt like hitting him over the head with my purse. At the least.
I waited for the next elevator to arrive so I wouldn't have to ride with Vince. Okay, I also took a moment to powder my nose and freshen my lip gloss, so that while I was ruining Bradley's date I could look good.
I cabbed it over to the 21 Club, where, wide-eyed with awe at the posh d6cor, I was led to a room upstairs that was lined with beer steins. There, I found Bradley cozy with a blonde I felt sure I'd seen between the covers of a magazine. She had her hair teased high in a bouffant hairdo. Her low-cut gold-and-silver dress revealed a generous bosom.
I approached their table, which I noticed contained two glasses of champagne. Evidently they had not ordered any food yet. I felt a little guilty for being so pleased to interrupt their date. But all's fair in love and war. "Mr. Williams?"
Bradley looked up, startled. "Miss Bennett, what are you doing here?"
"I'm afraid something has come up at the office that I felt you should know about without delay."
"What is it?"
I looked pointedly at the blonde. Bradley got the message.
"Elkie, would you excuse us for just a moment, please?"
Elkie rose from her seat. "Of course, darling. I'll just go powder my nose." Behind Bradley's back she glared at me, but slunk away. I took her place at the table.
"All right, Miss Bennett, what's this all about?"
I pushed Elkie's champagne glass to the side and leaned toward Bradley. "Darlene called me. A friend of hers is flying to London to try to find out more about Astrid. When he got to LaGuardia, he saw Nigel, handcuffed, being led away by the police. He recognized Nigel from the picture in the newspaper when the band first arrived in America, I suppose. Anyway, the point is that Nigel was trying to leave the country and return to London."
Bradley let out a weary sigh. "Damn. Kid, this doesn't look good. Nigel will probably tell gruesome stories about Rip-City."
"I agree. I thought you'd want to know before it hits the papers or the evening news."
"You did right. I'd better call the corporate attorney and see if I can get him down to the police station. We don't want this looking bad for Rip-City. And we don't want Nigel talking about how the album isn't going to be released."
"That may already have happened. He has a love-hate relationship with that reporter from London, Patty Gentry. Nigel might have been so angry with us for not releasing the album that he told her."
Bradley frowned. "Maybe I'd better go down to the police station too."
"I think that would be wise," I said.
Elkie returned to the table. I thought it prudent to leave. I had done what I'd come to do. It was time to go back to the apartment and meet up with Darlene.
I said good-bye to the pair, trying really hard not to look happy that their date was ruined. I glanced back once and saw Elkie with a furious look on her face. I skipped out to the street.
Back at the apartment, Darlene was ready to go, decked out in a sky-blue dress that was almost the same color as her stewardess uniform.
"How did Bradley take the news?" she asked, as I examined my closet for something to wear.
"He was anxious to get to the corporate lawyer. And he decided to go to the police station himself."
Darlene grinned. "His date was over then?"
"Oh, yes."
"You are bad, Bebe Bennett," she teased.
Darlene and I looked at each other and fell into a fit of laughter.
Once we regained our composure, I pushed my clothes
to one side of the closet, then slowly moved items across the rack so I could contemplate them. I was studying my herringbone skirt when Darlene reached past me and pulled out a simple burgundy velvet A-line dress.
"Wear this. You want to look good for the guys. We'll get more information out of them that way."
"I thought you weren't supposed to wear velvet after Valentine's Day."
"Velvet is always appropriate. So sexy," Darlene opined.
"Okay."
At the Legends Hotel, Mr. Duncan was on duty at the elevators. He returned my smile but regarded Darlene warily. "Good even
ing, girls. Can I take you upstairs?"
"Thank you, Mr. Duncan, we'd appreciate it," I said with a smile. "How's your family?"
"Fine, thank you."
Darlene asked for the fifteenth floor, being sure to enunciate her words carefully. I was pleased to see how considerate she was about Mr. Duncan's hearing problem.
Once we arrived, I ignored Mr. Duncan's disapproving look and my own doubtful feelings about going to the guys' hotel room, and followed Darlene.
She knocked on a door, and Keith opened it. He waved his hand expansively. "Come on in; might as well join the party."
Keith had a suite—I wondered how he'd managed that when Philip only had a regular room—and the other band members were present. Reggie sat next to the telephone. Peter was perched sideways in a chair with his feet dangling over the arm, his right eye twitching. Astrid was noticeably absent.
The air was full of tension. You could barely see the tables, they were so covered with glasses and bottles of Jack Daniel's. Overflowing ashtrays were scattered throughout the room, and there was the smell of marijuana in the air.
"Want a drink?" Keith said, a cigarette dangling from one side of his mouth.
"Sure," Darlene said, sitting down and crossing her legs.
"What about you, Bebe? Maybe you'd better not unless your knight in shining armor is planning on showing up here too. After he axed our record."
"I proved at Rocket-a-Go-Go that I know how to drink," I protested, ignoring the remark about the album. Still, he didn't pour me one.
Darlene accepted a drink from Keith. "Look, that's why we're here—about the record. We wanted to tell you how sorry we are that the album isn't going to be released in America."
Keith swallowed the contents of his glass in one gulp. "Bastards, bloody bastards. We're all broken up that Philip's gone, but that doesn't mean the album can't go on. I can sing lead."
"Maybe you killed him, thinking that you'd finally be the front man," Reggie said in a deceptively mild voice. "God knows you think this band belongs to you."
Keith rounded on him. "Bloody hell! What a thing to say. And the band way my idea from the beginning. Nigel just liked Philip more and made him the lead. But I didn't kill Philip."
Reggie shrugged. "One of us did it. And I know it wasn't me."
Keith sneered. "How do we know it wasn't you? Philip was trying to break up your marriage. All you ever do is sit by the phone, pining for Jean and that snot-nosed kid."
Furious, Reggie shot out of his chair and moved toward Keith.
Darlene came between them. "Soon you'll be able to go home to London. The album will be released in Britain to great success."
"Keith can be the lead singer," Peter said. "He's got
the talent." His right eye twitched violently. "We'll be all right. Won't we?"
Darlene said, "Why were you in Philip's room the day he was murdered, Peter? I know you were there because we found this tie tack on the floor." She pulled the tie tack out of her purse and held it up.
Keith looked at it and then at Peter. "That does belong to you, Peter. You said you hadn't been in Philip's room."
Cornered, Peter threw up his hands. "All right, I was there. I wanted to talk to Philip about his latest round of threats about getting a new drummer. But he was in the tub singing. There was no talking to him, so I left. I left him alive."
I said, "You'll have to tell the police, Peter."
"Why? Astrid and I were together when Philip was killed. I have an alibi."
I wondered about that alibi. Darlene and I needed to get to Astrid, show her the earring, tell her about Peter's being in Philip's room, and see how she reacted. Or get Peter alone and get him to crack.
I said, "There's something you all should know. Nigel was caught at the airport trying to board a plane for London. The police have him in custody."
"That's not possible!" Keith burst out. "He wouldn't leave us."
"He might if he was the one who killed Philip," Reggie said. He seemed a little drunk. He was certainly not his usual mild-mannered self. "Or maybe he just didn't see the need to stick with a bunch of losers who can't get an album out."
Peter was literally shaking with nerves. "Stop it! Stop saying these evil things. No one here killed Philip. Nigel wouldn't try to leave without a good reason."
"Oh, shut up, Peter," Keith said. "No wonder Astrid's been coming on to me lately. It's clear you're nothing but a bag of nerves. I'm the new leader of the band."
Peter swung a fist, but Keith easily blocked it. Peter said, "You always think the birds are after you. Well, Astrid is not!"
The drummer left the room in a huff, slamming the door behind him.
Keith poured himself another drink.
Reggie went back to dialing the phone.
I looked at Darlene and signaled that we should leave.
We had heard enough here. It was time to see if we could break Peter's and Astrid's alibis. Although suspects and motives were plentiful, considering the troubles and petty rivalries in the band, Astrid remained the chief suspect in my mind. Philip had tossed her aside, and Astrid would not tolerate him being with another woman. Ever.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The next morning at work, Bradley didn't come in until ten. I was worried about him. Had he gone back to Elkie when he was finished at the police station? Or had he just had a late night trying to control Nigel?
"Good morning, Mr. Williams," I greeted him. The windy day had left a lock of his hair hanging over his forehead.
"Good morning, Miss Bennett."
Bradley explained that Nigel was under control. He had just flipped out and decided to go home. The police had yet to decide whether to press charges.
The explanation left me wondering about Nigel's real motives.
Bradley spent most of the day on the phone, leaving me to my work. I had a lot of filing to catch up on.
That night Darlene and I discussed our next move. We wanted to get to Peter, to break his alibi with Astrid. But we couldn't be sure when he would be alone.
The problem solved itself when Peter called early in the evening. Darlene and I had just finished dinner— Darlene griping because the airline was pressuring her to come back, and the police wouldn't let her—when the phone rang. I went to answer it.
"Hello?"
"Bebe?"
"Yes, who's this?"
"It's Peter. Can you come over here? We've got trouble."
"What is it?"
"I wouldn't have bothered you, but Astrid is out talking with Patty Gentry again. You see, Reggie's wife, Jean, is here."
"There at the hotel? I thought she was in England."
"Can you just come over? Jean and Reggie are really going at it, and we think maybe another female could help."
"I'll be right there."
I hung up the phone, related the news to Darlene, and we grabbed our coats and headed for the hotel.
In Keith's suite, Peter and Keith were trying to calm an obviously distraught ruddy-faced blonde, a bit on the plump side, who was holding a wailing infant.
"You've been playing around on me, Reggie!" she accused.
Reggie stood in front of her. "Jean, I never have!"
"Philip showed me the photographs."
"What are you talking about? Philip never got a chance to send them."
"Then there are more of them?" She cried harder, which made the baby cry harder.
I stepped forward, pulling a tissue out of my purse. "Excuse me, Jean. I know we don't know each other. My name is Bebe. I think I can clear some of this up."
"And I can help too," Darlene said. "I'm Darlene."
Jean looked suspiciously at me, but accepted the tissue and blew her nose. She popped a pacifier in the baby's mouth. "I've seen you with Reggie. I saw you both with him at that space club. But you, Bebe, were cuddling close to him."
"We were only talking, I promise," I said. "Um, when did you get to America, Jean?"
Reggie's eyes w
idened.
Jean lowered her head, but addressed Reggie. "I followed you over directly. I didn't trust you here with an ocean between us and you with those fans."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Jean had been dogging Reggie since his arrival in America. Reggie had certainly understated the case when he'd said Jean was the jealous type. She hadn't been answering the phone back in Manchester because she was here in New York!
"Jean," I said, "Reggie and I are only friends. I work at his record company, that's all. I know Philip was taking pictures of Reggie with fans, but I also know that it was all Philip's doing. He wanted to break up your marriage. He had some weird idea that pop stars shouldn't be married."
"She's right, Jean," Reggie confirmed. "It was all blasted Philip's doing. You must know how much I love you and Jamesey."
Jean blew her nose again. "It's just that when I saw those photographs, and then I knew you'd be all the way over here, I couldn't take it."
Darlene said, "A woman's got to trust her man or there's going to be trouble. Reggie and I just met, but I can tell how much he loves you and the baby."
I nodded. "He's been frantic trying to telephone you ever since he got here. He thought you were too mad at him to talk."
Reggie bent down in front of Jean and the baby. "I know we had that row before I left; that's why I kept trying to call. I swear there's not been anyone else, Jean."
"Well, now that Philip is dead, you can come back home to England where you belong," Jean said. "Dirty rotter deserved what happened to him. I'd like to thank the person who did it."
A thought went through my mind. If Jean had been in America the whole time the guys had been, could she have killed Philip? She certainly wasn't very emotionally stable.
Just then Reggie put his arm around her. "Here, luv, don't cry anymore. We're together again." He kissed her temple. "Let me hold Jamesey. It feels like forever since
I've held him. If someone hadn't already done it, I'd kill Philip myself for the trouble he's caused."
Jean passed him the baby, and Reggie's face glowed with happiness.
Keith moaned like the scene made him sick. He stalked off to one of the bedrooms.
It's A Mod, Mod, Mod, Mod Murder Page 14
