"No! Don't you dare!" Lori began to squeal as H.M. leered at her while making wiggling motions with his fingers. She was giggling at him. H.M. let her wrists go and enveloped her in a bear hug as he rocked her while making mock growling noises.
"Ugh." Lori groaned when he released her.
"One of these days you are going to break something, I know it." She hugged him. "But my sulks are cured. I'll go get dressed now, that is if you let me up."
"Right. Here ye go." He pushed her to her feet. "I could go an see Thud on my own while you get ready."
"No you don't." Lori called out from the bathroom. "Hold your horses, MacGrough. I'll be ready in a jiffy. You're not going anywhere without me."
"As ye wish Madam." Rising, he stretched his tired muscles and walked into the bedroom to dress. He was dressed and waiting when Lori emerged ready to go in her blonde wig and the second sundress.
"Ye do look fetching. Very feminine, sort of Barbie dollish."
"Enough nonsense, Hamish MacGrough." She growled at him, with her lovely almond-shaped eyes narrowed. "I will not be compared to a Barbie doll." Lori punched him on his upper arm.
"Now, luv, there are ah couple of good things about Barbie as I recall."
"Big tits, I believe was what the boys used to admire about her figure." Lori glared at him.
"Dear me. What ah harsh choice of words. I might have put it ah wee bit more delicately."
"Doesn't matter how you put it. Do you have the key before I shut the door?"
H.M. took the key out of his pocket and dangled it before her nose.
"It amounts to the same thing." She pulled the door closed as she continued the discussion. "Tits, that's the first thing any of you men notice about a woman."
"Nae, 'tis nae so. The first thing I noticed about ye was yur waist an lovely hips. I'm a bit of a hip an leg man. I felt with nice rounded hips like those, you had tae have great legs."
As they entered the elevator, he pushed the button for the floor above theirs. "An, I was correct. Ye do have great legs. Now let's see if we can find tha Irishman. He's been avoiding me, an I'm bloody tired of it."
1Standing to one side of Thud's door, H.M. rapped on it. There was no answer. MacGrough waited for a moment before trying again. On the third attempt, there was a muffled growl from the other side of the door. Someone leaned against it heavily.
"Who tha bleeding hell is knockin on tha door?"
"Let me in Thud."
There was silence for a moment. Then in a much lower volume Thud asked. "H.M.? That ye?"
"Aye. Let me in Thud."
"Aw, shite! Have ah heart man! 'Tis tae bloody early an I'm hung over anyway."
"We have tae talk. Open tha door! Ye will talk tae me, ye eejit Irish bum."
"You're nae going tae go awa an gie me any peace until I let ye in! Yer ah friggin granite brained Scot. Bloody hell! I dinnae want tae!"
"Open the door Thud. Why will ye nae talk tae me?"
The door chain rattled. "You're ah bastard H.M.! Ah friggin pushy bastard!"
The last lock made a clicking sound then the door was thrown open. Thud stood on the other side wrapped in the bedspread. A quick glance at Lori had Thud gathering the material tighter in one fist.
He finally looked at H.M. "Jaysus! Good thing I know yer voice. Had I seen ye first, I never would ha let ye in."
Lori and H.M. entered the room. Thud slammed the door behind them.
"My, my. Newly shorn, chin slick as ah baby's bottom! What 'tis this all about?"
H.M. shrugged. "Why not? Tha band has surely broken up. I can dress as I like. I certainly do like being able tae get past tha wankin press without bein pounced on."
They seated themselves in the living room, Thud on one of the couches across from H.M. and Lori.
"I take it ye have given ah statement tae tha polis?" H.M. launched in at once.
"Told them I dinnae know anythin. 'Tis the bleedin truth. I dinnae kill tha bastard. Thought about it when he backed out o tha fast food deal. I sat around drinking an plannin his murder for three days. Tha most satisfactory method was always death by strangulation, my hands round tha feckin scrawny shite's throat."
"Ye didna tell that tae tha copper?"
"Merciful God, nae!" Thud shook his head in denial. "Jaysus, Mary and Joseph, do you think I'm bats man? I told them as little as possible. I just pretended they were tha Sinn Fien. Tha rest was easy."
"Somethin tis obviously nae easy for ye. What tha bloody hell's wrong Thud? Ye have been avoidin me. I ken ye wouldnae be doing it unless there was somethin ye were keepin from me. Have ye been holdin yer own private wake? You're playin king on his throne over here like ye dinnae have ah care in tha world. Bullshite!" H.M. leaned forward. He smacked the coffee table with his open hand.
"The situation 'tis bad enough without ye giving tha polis tha idea yu're hidin somethin. Do ye want tae rot in one o their bleedin jails or swing for it? Ah nae," H.M. lowered his voice to just above a whisper, "Lori tells me they kill by lethal injection here. The trip of ah lifetime, I'd wager. 'Tis it what ye want?"
Thud was starting to sweat. He dropped the top portion of the bedspread as he wiped his forehead with the back of one hand. "I'm nae Vincent's murderer. I had nought to do with it. Why won't ye believe me?"
"You great dumb lump of ah Mick! Do ye think it makes ah bleedin bit of difference what I think? This is the U.S. of A. We're strangers here. We know nought of tha laws. Do ye have enough coin tae buy tha best barrister in tha town? I thought everythin ye had was sunk intae tha restaurant business. What did ye do? What are you hiding? And for God's sake, why are ye hiding from me? What did ye do, ye bloomin eejit? I canna help ye if you will nae tell me what ye did! What are ye hidin?"
Thud leaned forward. He scrubbed his face with his hands.
"Ye know me tae well. Ye always saw more than Vince. None of us could ever put one over on ye. Did you know tha rest of us called ye the 'headmaster' behind your back?"
"Aye. I did!" Hamish growled. "Someone had tae keep Bushmaster practicin an sober enough tae perform when we got ah gig. It wasnae ah bleedin full time party. We had tae work tae keep it all goin."
H.M. sat back and turned to Lori. "Order ah pot of tea an some biscuits, darlin, if ye would. Thud is goin tae need tae oil his vocal cords. I intend tae have tha whole of it if it takes all day."
Lori found the telephone on the floor near the wall and picked it up.
"Tea." Thud nodded. "Aye. I need ah cuppa. I'm feelin sickly."
"We're goin tae talk about this even if it causes ye to puke yur guts out! I never suspected ye of murderin Vince. I still dinna believe ye killed him, no matter how ye bleedin carry on. But, you did somethin. I can see it eatin away at ye."
H.M. decided to change his tack. "The general consensus of opinion is someone other than ah musician orchestrated this killin. From tha information I've gathered, I suspect tha adjustments made tae Vince's amp had tae have been made, after tha last performance in Seattle."
Thud turned pale, closed his eyes and swallowed. He jumped up. Heedless of the fact he was quite naked, the drummer ran from the living room.
H.M. heard him in the bathroom and his dark eyes swung to Lori. "Is room service on tha way?"
"Yes." She was watching the bathroom door. Lori turned her head away to look at her husband with a frown on her face. "What's wrong with him?"
As he ran his hand up and down his right thigh, H.M. replied. "I've nae idea. But, before we leave tha room, I will ken what has him in such ah state. Thud is frightened. In fact, I've never seen him quite so upset."
A few minutes later the retching stopped. The water began to run in the bathroom. Thud was taking a shower. Room service arrived shortly before Thud returned to the living room. Lori had the tea things set up on the coffee table. She was in the process of pouring it when Thud sat down on the couch. He was clad in jeans and carried a white tee shirt in one hand.
"Lori, please accept my apology.
I'm afraid I ha been less than ah gentleman this mornin."
She handed him a steaming cup of tea. "Apology accepted. This has been a strain on all of us."
"Thank ye." He took a sip of the brew. "Ahh. Tis just what I needed."
He glanced at H.M. from over the rim of the cup.
"Take yur time, Thud. Drink up. When everythin has settled down, we can proceed."
No one spoke while they drank their tea. It was a quiet interlude. None of them rushed the ritual. Thud finally drained his cup and leaned forward to place it on the saucer.
"That's better. Tha bleedin bastard, Vince is almost more trouble dead than alive. The fast food thing was his bloomin bright idea. He approached me, got me tae invest every quid I had an then he decides tha venture is 'too risky'. I coulda killed him then. Right that moment I coulda bashed him tae ah bloody pulp. I thought about it. Almost went for him. I wanted tae fight him, feel his bones crack under my fist. Thought better of it. I got feckin drunk for, what? Three days, five per'aps?"
"Four." H.M. nodded. "I understood how ye felt. But, tha tour was comin up. We all stood tae make ah tidy sum from it."
"Nae enough tae bail me out, mate. Almost, but I was ah few thousand short. 'Twas tha reason I was in tha hall after tha last Seattle show. I realized when I was being questioned tha first time by tha copper, tha murderer had to have fixed tha amp that night. 'Tis tha only opportunity tha killer really had. Like an ass, I was in tha orchestra pit that night. I snuck in through tha loading dock during tha crew party."
H.M. shook his head. "Start from tha top. What in tha name of God were ye up tae?"
Thud lowered his head and clasped his shaking hands together. "Ye're goin tae hate me. All tha band is goin tae hate me." Thud thrust both hands into his long sandy blond hair and pushed it back behind his ears.
H.M. hit the table so hard the teapot nearly jumped off onto the floor. "If ye dinna open yer mouth an tell, I am going tae bash ye until you cannae open yur mouth!"
"I bought ah DAT recorder, damn ye! I bought ah DAT recorder an set it up in tha orchestra pit!" Thud screamed at H.M.
"Ye made ah bootleg tape!" H.M. stared at Thud. "But yer stealing from yourself as well as tha rest of us."
"Aye, but, I get all the coin from tha sale of tha recordin. I recorded both tha sound check an tha live performance. I've already sent it home."
"Has tha buyer picked it up yet?" H.M. asked.
"Nay. I have tae deliver it personally. I'm no goin to turn it over, I swear it, H.M."
"Ye'd bloody better not! 'Tis tha last live performance by Bushmaster. Do you have any idea what tha bloody tape is worth? It will bail you out an probably provide ah tidy sum for us all. The money ye need will be there. You could have come to me. We could have worked something out." H.M. reached out and gripped Thud's shoulder.
"I have ta take responsibility for meself sometime. You aren't gontae be there for me for tha rest of me life. It's time I left school. I want you to be my friend, not my Da." Thud's face broke into a tentative smile.
H.M. dropped his hand and began to relax. "I have never heard ah drummer with a better rhythm an you're quick. But, so slow in other ways. What in bloody hell am I tae do with ye? I'm yur mate. I willnae say anythin tae anyone else about tha tape. You tell them. Tell them ye did it for ah lark. Then we will have Warren cut ah deal for it. Ye will be ah franchise magnate yet. Vince's death should buy ye time with yer backers. It will take ah while tae settle Bushmaster's immediate affairs. If they want to deal with ye, they will just have tae wait."
Thud nodded. "I hadn't thought of that. It will do."
"Now." H.M. changed the subject. "Tell me what ye saw that night. Did ye see anything unusual? Someone who shouldnae have been there per'aps. Think about it Thud."
"Tha lad, tha roadie, tha one hangs about ye, he was bangin a groupie over in ah corner of tha stage. He was tha only one near tha stage, or on it. Probably showing off for tha bit of fluff...how important he was, or some such. I didn't see anyone else. I got in, picked up tha DAT machine an got out."
H.M. drummed his fingers on the couch cushions, lost in thought. He sat forward suddenly. "Are you sure you didna tell any of this to the polis?"
Thud shook his head. "Never! I dinna trust coppers any more than ye. I just stuck tae my story. I got pissed early on an have no idea what went on or why. Tha old drunken sot Irishman routine. As ye pointed out, we don't understand them, they dinnae know enough about us tae know when we are playin at bein what they expect us tae be. They think I'm a dunce who knows how tae do one thing, play tha drums."
He grinned at H.M. "I may nay be an Oxford don, but I'm no daft either."
"Right. Stick to yur story. That is unless tha lad saw ye. Do you think he might have?" H.M. jangled the room key in his pocket.
"Nae possible." Thud grinned. "He an tha groupie were quite busy. They were also smokin some good stuff. It smelled quite strong in tha orchestra pit."
H.M. nodded as he played with the key again, rubbing it against the change in his pocket. "Make sure ye dinnae put them wise tae ye. I have other things tae look into. I will keep ye abreast of developments. Stay ah bit more sober than usual will ye? I need time tae find out what happened."
"Yes, sir. I will obey tha headmaster's orders without question." Thud chuckled at the look H.M. turned on him. "Just having ye on ah bit Heavy Metal. But, you must admit it does fit. H.M., Heavy Metal, headmaster."
"Cheeky, Thud. Too cheeky if ye ask me." H.M. growled.
Thud started to laugh, Lori giggled. Then H.M. joined in. They were friends, the band against the world.
"Are ye tryin tae find out who tha culprit is?" Thud was suddenly serious.
"Aye. I wish it had never happened. Frankly, I find it appallin that someone murdered Vince. Knowing him, I can also understand he could push people tae tha limit of endurance. Someone snapped. I want tae discover who tha individual was because I dinna wish to stay here any longer than necessary. As well I dinna want tae be blamed for murdering him. Once we find out who did tha deed, I have no intention of throwing him tae tha lions. The rest of us have agreed to help with legal expenses. If ye cannae do so, we will all understand. Ye have enough financial problems as it is."
"I'll help if I can. It could just as easily hav been me as another. See that ye go about this carefully. Remember this person has already killed an could find it easier if given another opportunity."
H.M. and Lori rose from the couch. Thud reached out to H.M. The two men shook hands before H.M. opened the door and ushered Lori out before him.
As they walked down the hallway, Lori took his hand. "Thud's right you know. This is a murderer we are trying to catch. Caution would be advised. There are times when you tend to rush in without thinking of the consequences."
Hamish frowned. "I always think about tha consequences, sometimes I choose to ignore them." He pushed the button to summon the elevator.
"I want you to be careful as Thud advised. You could get hurt. I do not want that to happen."
Lori gave his hand a squeeze. He merely grunted in reply. When the elevator arrived, they entered, and he pushed the button to take them to the lobby. Once outside, Hamish found a taxi.
"Where to man?" Asked the taxi driver.
H.M. looked at his watch. It was just going on three in the afternoon, too early for their appointment with Ed. The urge he had to go to the hall and look around, was quickly suppressed. That was not possible. If anyone saw them, the game would be up.
He looked over at Lori. "Would ye care for lunch?"
"No it's too early. There's an imitation pub near Ed's place, or at least there used to be, we can eat there."
The driver glanced at them in his mirror. "What's it gonna be?"
Lori leaned forward. "Take us to the closest mission. It's been a long time since I toured one. I would like to refresh my memory. Does that meet with your approval?" His wife asked.
"It will do."
He was quiet d
uring the ride. Thud's news took him by surprise. He supposed he should have expected something of the sort as desperate as Thud was when Vincent backed out of their deal. The Irishman's financial options were limited. His family was poor and probably counting on him to pull all their fortunes together.
H.M. had been on his own for so long, he found it difficult to think about his effect on the lives of others in a financial sense. He took care of himself and expected others to do the same.
That attitude would have to be modified in the future. Had he given it any real thought, he would have realized the difficulty of the position Thud found himself in.
Perhaps there were other possibilities he had not explored. Other reasons for Vince's death. Revenge was one reason, money another, certainly there could be others. Sex perhaps? Could someone have taken exception to who Vincent was humpin?
Drugs? Could someone have killed him in a drug induced frenzy? Nae, that would have probably been an immediate thing, not premeditated. This had been well thought out. The murderer had probably been quite sober. Could drugs been involved in another fashion perhaps? How much had Vince been spending on drugs lately? Good question. An even better one might be what had he been on?
Where had his latest groupie gotten off to? "Damn!" Hamish muttered.
Did any one of them know where to find her other than the coppers? He should have spoken with her before this. She might be able to give him further insight into the problem. Why hadn't he thought about her sooner? He would have to get in touch with Warren when they reached their destination.
When the taxi stopped H.M. waited impatiently for Lori to pay the fare. "We need tae find ah telephone. I have tae contact Warren."
Lori glanced at him for a moment before looking around them. "There. Over by the gift shop."
The phone was already in use. H.M. waited impatiently for the teenager to finish her call. He pushed Lori toward the phone. "I need ye tae get Warren on tha line for me. I need tae talk with him immediately."
Lori realized asking questions would only agitate him further. She took the required amount of coins from her purse and dialed the number. The hotel rang Warren's room without success. Lori had him paged. H.M.'s patience was wearing thin when Warren finally answered the page.
Wired For Sound Page 10
