“Take it easy,” I said.
“What’s going on,” a female voice said. A second later she walked in from an adjoining door. She was wearing leather pants, a camouflaged tank top and a full sleeve of tattoos. Her hair was blond with purple streaks. I’d found Lia Brand.
“I brought you your pizza,” I told Lia.
“I didn’t order any fucking pizza,” she said.
“Hey, it won’t help anyone if it gets cold. Why not help yourself to a slice. It’s on the house.”
“I don’t understand. Who are you? What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’ll level with you. My name is Noah Milano. I’m an investigator looking into the death of Carol Dickinson.”
“Ahh, the bitch. Yeah, I heard she died. Also heard she OD’d. Not much to investigate if you ask me.”
“I know you’re not much of a fan. Still, I was hoping you’d give me a chance to talk to you for a second.”
“And why wouldn’t I just ask Artie here to throw you out on your ass?” She had her arms crossed, displaying her tattoos.
“For one, he’s just going to get his ass handed to him,” I said. “For another thing, I’m incredibly persistent. You eat some pizza and talk to me for a few minutes and I’m out of your hair. If you don’t, I’ll keep bothering you until you do.”
“Well, well...was that a threat?” She seemed amused.
“More like a promise. But that’s too much of a cliché, so I won’t say it.”
She laughed. “Yeah, that would be fucking corny. All right. You’ve got balls, Milano. I like that. Come with me, I’ll pour you a drink and we’ll have that damned pizza.”
Artie protested, “I can throw him out, no problem! Shouldn’t I just throw him out?”
“You just get back to the door and keep out the groupies,” Lia said. She put an arm on my back and guided me along with her.
We ended up in a kitchen/dining room that also had a pinball machine and dart board. There were some framed pictures of the musicians who recorded in the studio on the wall.
“Nice,” I said.
“Yeah, it’s where we relax during sessions. I just finished the second track of my new album. I was ready for a break, so I guess some pizza isn’t such a bad idea. You want a drink? I’ve got Corona, Jack, Heineken. Or are you a Brut kind of guy?”
“Brutish, maybe. Corona would be great.”
She opened a fridge and threw me a bottle. I caught it in mid-air.
“Good reflexes,” Lia said.
I twisted off the cap and took a long pull of the beer. “Thanks. Comes in handy in my line of work.”
“I think you’d make a hell of a lot better guard than Artie,” Lia said while she poured herself some Jack in a tumbler glass.
“My Little Pony would make a better guard,” I said.
She laughed. It sounded like you’d expect a laugh to sound when someone is on a whiskey and cigarette diet.
Lia gestured at the couch in the corner of the room. “Just have a fucking seat.”
I sat down and got a slice of pizza. She took out a slice out of the box and sat down with it.
“Spill it. What do you want to know?”
“I know you’ve got a history with Carol. I also know you were in the club when she died that night.”
“You did your homework.”
I nodded. “Guess I did. I just want to know if you saw her. Maybe talked to her.”
“Yeah, I saw the bitch. I was tempted to scratch her eyes out but decided I didn’t need shit like that when I was busy with my big comeback album. I decided to just complain about her to Danny Ketchum.”
“Ah, you talked to him?”
“Yeah, I remembered him from some party or other. Premiere of some big budget flick. He tried to come on to me. I told him he wasn’t my type. Took it pretty hard, poor fuck.”
“Handsome, successful actor… Why wasn’t he your type?” Maybe I had a shot at her. Although she’d probably eat me alive.
“I told him I like bad boys. Our boy Danny is a bit too white-bread for me.”
“He did cheat on his wife…”
The throaty laugh again, back of her head in her neck, shaking her hair. “Yeah, right. Who hasn’t? That’s not bad boy behavior, just male.”
I shrugged. “That’s probably why I haven’t married. I’m as male as the next guy.”
“There’s a bad boy vibe about you, but I think you’re really a boy-scout underneath that swagger. Of course, I do know I’d do a lot better with a white-bread boy-scout type. Just can’t help it. Shit, you know what happened with the last guy I got serious with.”
“Yeah… Sorry about that.”
She waved that away. “Forget about it. That came with the territory I guess. Scared me into rehabbing myself though.”
“Good to hear something good came from it.”
“I guess. And shit, my boy Brand became a legend, right? Probably sold more albums after his death. Made a lot of people even richer. Alive, his star probably would have burned out long ago, with the popularity of all those teenage stars and rappers.”
I sat on the edge of my couch. “Are you suggesting his death wasn’t an accident?”
She pushed me against the back of the couch. “Fuck, no! Silly fucker. Of course not. All those kind of conspiracy stories are total bullshit. My boy just didn’t know how to take stuff in moderation. Plain stupid. That’s it.”
“Okay, sorry. It’s just how he died and how Carol died… There are a lot of similarities.”
“This is Hollywood,” she said between bites of pizza. “A lot of people die that way.”
“Guess you’re right,” I admitted after a sip of beer. “Anyway, what about Ketchum? You said he took your rejection hard?”
“Yeah, he came on with some bullshit story he was connected or something, that he was more of a bad boy than I could imagine.”
“Connected? Like, in mob-connected?”
Lia nodded. “That seemed to be what he was getting at. Told me his new movie was being funded by some mob guy.”
This was getting really interesting. “Did he tell you his name?”
She exhaled, one very long breath and sat back. “He probably did, but I think I forgot. Some Italian name, like Soprano or something, you know?”
“Was it Calabrese?”
“Fuck, yeah! That’s it. How did you know?”
I gave her a grin. “I’m more of a bad guy than you think too. Did he elaborate on that relationship?”
“Elaborate? Using big words like that doesn’t help with the bad boy image, baby. But no, he didn’t. I just laughed at him and went to the john. A little while later the cops showed up and we heard Carol was dead.”
“Did you speak to him after that meeting?”
“Nope. Probably hurt the poor baby’s feelings.”
“When you spoke to him about Carol, how mad at her did he sound?”
“Madder than I was I guess. I’d come to accept the kind of shit that goes with this life. Sounded like he really hadn’t. Still, you’re not thinking he killed that bitch because of that, are you?”
“I don’t know. People have killed for less.”
“Maybe. Personally I think poor Carol just OD’d.”
“Carol wasn’t known to take drugs.”
“Says who? It’s not something you generally advertise.”
“A friend of hers. Some more people that know her pretty well.”
“In my experience you never know what secrets people keep.”
“It’s kind of my job to find out.”
A wiry guy wearing a Slayer T-shirt and a baseball cap came in. “Lia, you ready to start on the third track?”
Lia stood. “Sure. Thanks for the pizza, Milano. Good luck with the sleuthing thing. I have to head back into the studio.”
I offered her my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Instead of shaking my hand she French-kissed me hard and aggressively and followed the wiry gu
y out of the room. “See you around, bad boy.”
Well, that was an experience.
TWENTY
“What happened?” Kane asked me when I got back in the Hummer with him.
“What do you mean?”
“Your cheeks are red and there’s lipstick on your mouth. Did you pull the old Milano charm on the lady?”
“More like she pulled it on me. I almost feel violated.”
He chuckled. “Tell me all the dirty details.”
“Not that much to tell. I did find out a little interesting something about Calabrese, though.”
“Spill it, kid.”
I told him about Ketchum’s claim to mob-fame.
“Ha, go figure. Well, it’s not unheard of. Your dad funded some Hollywood productions himself. Fuck, who with money to spare living in Tinseltown hasn’t.”
“Anyway, I guess that sends Ketchum right to the top of my list of suspects.”
“Number one with a bullet. Are we going to pay him a visit?”
“I’m not sure what to ask him, though. I mean, sure, the information is interesting, but it’s not evidence.”
“We might try torture.” Not sure if Kane was joking about that or not.
“Not really my style. I have to do something with this, though. I think I’d like to know a little more about our friend Ketchum. If he killed Carol, it seems he didn’t just do it to get back at her for screwing up his marriage. The fact all her documents got stolen seems to indicate she died because her killer had something to hide that she found out. Maybe we’ll just have to dig a little deeper into his past to find out what.”
“We could also find that out by torturing him. Sounds a lot easier.”
“Cut it out, Kane. You know I don’t operate that way. With the databases I subscribe to and the access Minnie has, we should be able to find out as much as Carol could.”
“Sounds like boring work. And that’s not my style.”
“You could go and read a book, you know?”
“I’m not a nerd, or wasn’t I clear enough?”
I shook my head. Was he being funny or just being psychotic. I could never really tell.
We drove to Minnie’s place. She whipped up some sandwiches and we both went to work on our laptops. Kane and Tony killed the time playing poker and looking through the window. I think they might have been looking for someone to shoot.
“That’s odd,” Minnie said, looking up from her laptop.
“What is?” I asked.
“I can’t find any data on Danny before 1999.”
I put down my sandwich. “What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. There’s no data about him. No medical records, no DMV records.”
“That matches with my findings. No credit card info before 1999.”
“How can that be? It’s like he never existed before that time.”
“Maybe Danny Ketchum is a stage name? That’s pretty plausible, right?”
“No data on that.”
I rubbed my chin. “It has to be, or are you suggesting he’s gotten a new identity, witness protection style?”
Minnie shrugged. “Don’t know. Could be, I guess. But I doubt the marshals would let one of their protectees become an a-list actor. Sort of defeats the purpose.”
“How can we find out who he was before 1999?”
“Well, if I could get my hands on his fingerprints, I could run him through some databases we use to identify John Does.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said and finished my sandwich.
“It does,” Kane piped in from behind a full hand of cards. “Want me to go over to him and cut off his fingers?”
“I wasn’t aware you were paying attention,” I said.
“Yeah, how can you do that and still win every damn hand?” Tony said.
Kane smiled. “Imagine… I’m also keeping an eye on the street and going through the stats for the horse races I’ll be betting on.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re a regular Batman, we know,” Tony grumbled and threw down his cards.
“I think I know how I can get my hands on Ketchum’s prints,” I said. “I just need to call my buddy Rod.”
I gave him a call. He answered after a few rings. I asked him if he could give me a call the next time Ketchum was visiting the club.
“I can spare the dime. He’s here right now, accompanied by two hot babes and his bodyguard.”
“Great, I’m coming over.”
“Noah, listen… I don’t want any trouble. The last time…”
I put his mind at ease. “No worries, pal. I just want to have a drink with him.”
TWENTY-ONE
Kane accompanied me to Peaches. The music was eighties tonight, Duran Duran. There was the usual assortment of wannabees and has-beens on the dance floor. The real stars had VIP tables and bottle service. Ketchum was among those.
“What the fuck,” I could see him say when he spotted us. His bodyguard, my little buddy Mason, clenched his fist.
Kane whispered in my ear, “Folks are always so happy to see you.”
“Yeah, it’s my natural charm,” I said.
“What are you doing here?” Ketchum asked me when we arrived at his table. There were two ladies sitting at the table with him, one black girl with tattoos and one Eurasian girl with black lipstick and a skirt so damned short it just might have been illegal in several states.
I spread my hands, Mr. Joviality. “Just here to have some fun, like you.”
“Fuck off, asshole. Are you here to rattle my chain again?”
“No, I just want to have a drink with you,” I said. “In fact, I want to have your drink.” I grabbed the tumbler of whiskey he was holding.
His eyes went wide. “What the fuck?”
I inhaled the contents and handed the glass to Kane. It disappeared into the black hole that was his duster.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ketchum asked.
Now I was going for Mister Innocence, “What? I emptied the glass and bussed it myself. No harm in that, right?”
I could tell the girls were wondering who the hell I was. I gave them a little smile and a nod. “You girls think our boy Ketchum here is enough to handle both of you? Or is the gorilla here joining in? You know steroids give guys like that small dicks, don’t you?”
The ladies giggled. Mason didn’t enjoy my wit and seemed to be ready to try and get another punch in.
I held up my hand. “Please don’t. You know how it ended the last time. And I promised a friend I wouldn’t be causing any trouble in here.”
“I don’t know what your point is, but please… Just leave,” Ketchum said, his voice a near whine. Gone was the macho act. He was genuinely pleading for me to leave him alone.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I get it. You really want to keep these ladies for yourself. Fine by me. But I did want to talk to you about those rumors you’ve been spreading.”
“Rumors?” he echoed.
I nodded. “I heard you were bragging about some mob connections?”
“What? Who said that?”
“Sorry, in my business I need to be able to keep things confidential. So…what’s up with that? Are you connected?”
Since begging didn’t seem to work, Ketchum had clearly decided to go for another strategy. “Keep bothering me, and you’re going to find out.”
I looked over my shoulder at Kane who was flanking me. “Did he just threaten me? I really think he just threatened me.”
Kane nodded. “Sounded that way to me.”
I laughed. “I probably should worry about your mob connection, right? This is where I should say, ‘Do you know who you’re talking to?’ But, I won’t.”
“Just go, I got nothing to tell you, okay?” Ketchum said.
“Fine. Let’s just have a drink,” I told Kane.
“Good idea,” he said. “Let me get a bottle of Jack.”
We walked over to the bar, passing the door to the restrooms.
&nb
sp; “That the johns?” Kane asked me.
“Yeah, sure.”
“So you think somebody got in there, shot Carol Dickinson full of H and left without being seen?”
“Well, we’re not sure about the killer not being seen exactly. I just didn’t see anyone leave I could directly connect to Carol. Beside Lia that is.”
“That doesn’t make her a prime suspect?”
“I don’t think she’s the killer. Not the right vibe. She really seemed to have made amends with what happened to her husband. I still like Ketchum for it, but from the tape it looks like he couldn’t have done it.”
“So he had Calabrese do it for him?”
“Possible. One of his men, anyway.”
“A man entering the ladies’ room would stand out, right?”
“Right. Question is, would a woman be able to overpower Carol and inject her with the heroin.”
“That’s some good questions you’re asking. I don’t know. A strong woman might. Carol didn’t strike me as a weak woman.”
“Would Lia be able to overpower her?”
I shrugged. “She’s a tough broad. But tough enough to overpower her? I don’t know.”
“That’s something to think about, I guess. What does security think about the whole mess?”
Another shrug. I suddenly felt like the dumbest kid in class. “Roddy didn’t seem to think much about it. He’s leaving it to the cops. He’s a bouncer, not a detective.”
“I trained you not only to protect, I also taught you how to kill. Think hard. How would you pull this off?”
I scratched the back of my head. His question was making me feel a little uncomfortable. I liked to deny I was trained as a killer. I liked to think that I was better than that somehow. To solve this case, maybe I’d have to get over that for a minute. I concentrated despite the blaring music. “As a man, I wouldn’t be able to get inside the ladies’ room without attracting some attention. So if I didn’t hire some female muscle for it, I’d have to be in there before the people came in and the camera was rolling. I’d have to wait inside a stall until I saw Carol show up. I’d grab her quickly, drag her into the stall. I’d wrap an arm around her neck, holding her still to inject the heroin.”
Kane smiled and evil smile. “See, you’re every bit the killer I am. Good. You killed her. Now, how did you manage your escape?”
The Death Business (A Noah Milano Novella) Page 7
