To Funk and Die in LA

by Nelson George

  Walli was fixated on a tanned bottle-blonde in a red bikini and high heels sipping a mojito when D asked him, "You see that woman hugging Night right now?"

  "Uhh, yeah?"

  "She look familiar?"

  "Ahhh."

  "Please focus, Walli. You have all afternoon to eyeball the blonde."

  Walli squinted. He pondered. No women who oozed so much money had ever been in his vicinity before. But then he said, "She does seem familiar."

  "Maybe she came to speak to Big Danny at the grocery store?"

  "Grocery store? I didn't see her there. What kind of car does she drive?"

  "Car? I dunno, why?"

  "Maybe she came to talk to Granddad at the house. I remember a woman driving a slick car who came to the house one night. A white Maserati. I watched it from my window. Could have been her. I only saw them in the hallway for like a second—I had a lot of homework. But her car I remember. You didn't see many cars like that in our neighborhood."

  This was inconclusive to D. A woman like R'Kaydia probably had three or four different rides. "Okay then, let's go say hello."

  R'Kaydia and her two friends were fussing over Night like he was an expensive pet. D and Walli joined them briefly but ended up sitting down with Gibbs, and now the three women sat laughing at the singer's stories and terrible jokes. D looked for signs that R'Kaydia was uncomfortable in Walli's presence, but her eyes only strayed from Night to the well-muscled man across the pool.

  While everyone around him chilled, drank, and recklessly eyeballed tanned flesh, D did calculations. His Hail Mary pass that Walli would link R'Kaydia to Big Danny hadn't connected. Now he had to see if she drove the same car that Walli had spotted outside the house. Even then, it wouldn't necessarily prove that she had anything to do with Big Danny's murder. But it would at least establish contact between R'Kaydia and Big Danny in her search for Dr. Funk.

  His grandfather would have stonewalled her, and she would have quickly grown frustrated. Could that anger have triggered her to have Big Danny killed? Or maybe she intended to scare him and things went wrong? And what about Serene Powers—could she have been the killer? She was definitely capable of taking a man out. But what if she thought his grandfather was somehow protecting Dr. Funk? Was she a cold-blooded murderer as well as an avenging angel? D wished he had a way to contact her. He presumed she was watching him—but how could he make her come out of the shadows?

  These questions occupied D's mind while Night engaged in conversation with R'Kaydia and her girlfriends. Soon the women got up and walked toward the hotel. D turned his gaze toward the muscleman across the way, who took a sip of his mimosa and then headed inside too. D waited a beat before excusing himself, reminding Walli not to drink any alcohol, and then entered the hotel.

  He sat on a lobby sofa and pulled out his cell phone, pretending to check Facebook. One of R'Kaydia's friends emerged from the women's restroom. He let her pass and then strolled in that direction. Trying not to look conspicuous, D cracked open the door to the ladies' room. Lucky for him it was empty. In the men's room a couple of dudes were taking leaks.

  He was going to head back to the pool when he noticed the door to a stairwell. He cracked it and heard two voices. He opened the door wider and, on the level below, he spotted two people pressed together, swimming trunks down and muscles flexed as they furiously fucked against the wall. R'Kaydia certainly seemed to be enjoying herself. Good for her. But maybe this guy with the wide back, the bright tats, and the tight butt wasn't just a boy toy.

  D left R'Kaydia and her friend to their business and walked back out to the pool. His little cousin, now shirtless, was about to join a game of pool volleyball. D caught his eye, smiled, and nodded. Walli went in and was quickly surrounded by a beguiling swirl of girls in bikinis.

  "Your cousin there has a boner that could break concrete," Gibbs observed.

  "As he should," D said.

  "So," Gibbs asked, "how's the investigation going, holmes?"

  "Picking up bits and pieces. Did you see that guy who followed R'Kaydia into the hotel?"

  "I saw the guy you followed who was following her. They probably booked a suite."

  "They went a lot more basic than that. You know him?"

  "Jake G.—he's a stuntman. Doubles for the Rock and Vin Diesel, and sometimes for Mexicans, Latinos, the odd Mongolian, and various mixed-race bad guys. I used him in a couple of videos."

  "A man of action," D said.

  "Yeah, I guess. He designs stunts too."

  D was taking this all in when R'Kaydia, looking refreshed, appeared poolside and sauntered over to them. "When do you think Night is going to perform that song? I may have to go meet my husband soon."

  "No problem," D said with a smile, "I'll make it happen."

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later Night held a microphone and was standing next to DJ Rashida's booth as she clicked on an iPod Mini that played an instrumental of Dr. Funk's "California Sun." As Night started singing, the girls swooned. So did the gays boys. The straight guys crossed their arms in the hopes that excited women would, later on, literally fall into their laps. The odds of that improved when Night flowed into "Black Sex."

  "He's definitely still got his audience," R'Kaydia commented. "When is the album coming?"

  "He's got a ton of songs, but we're still figuring out what goes on and what doesn't."

  "Will that Dr. Funk cover be on it?"

  D looked around. "Judging by the reaction, it should be."

  "You think he could perform that song with a band in about a month or so?"

  "No."

  "No?"

  "Like I said, R'Kaydia, we're in the middle of trying to finish a long-overdue album. The label wants it for Christmas. That's gotta be the priority."

  "The performance would be worth a lot of money. Six figures for a couple of songs."

  "Who for?"

  "A Facebook executive who's a good friend of mine."

  "Is he an investor in your hologram company?"

  R'Kaydia didn't seem to appreciate this line of questioning. "He might be. But yes, it would be a great help to me and my business, especially if Dr. Funk hasn't been found by then."

  "So you want Night to be a living hologram, huh?"

  "I don't like your tone, D. I've tried to be helpful to you and to your client. But you haven't really been working with me. Why is that?"

  "Listen, R'Kaydia, come back to me—or Amos, if that makes you more comfortable—with a real offer and specific dates and I'm sure we'll seriously consider it."

  "Enjoy the rest of your Sunday, D," she muttered before walking off.

  After R'Kaydia and her pals paid their bill and moved into the lobby, D grabbed Walli, who had just downed a Jell-O shot with a slender college-age, chocolate-brown woman named Felicia. "Time for you to earn your keep, Walli."

  A few minutes later D and Walli stood by a window in the lobby where they could see the valet stand. R'Kaydia, Nikeva, and Daisha handed the valet their tickets. D said, "Tell me if you see that car again—the white Maserati."

  When one of the valets drove up with a pearl-colored Maserati, Walli said, "That's it."

  The three women kissed each other's cheeks and then Nikeva got in the car.

  "Damn," Walli said. "Sorry. Maybe she was the one at the house?"

  D watched R'Kaydia and Daisha chat as they waited on their cars. A valet dropped another pearl-colored Maserati in front of the hotel, and this time R'Kaydia got in quickly and sped off.

  "Wow," Walli said.

  "Let's see what the other woman drives."

  To their surprise, Daisha also had a pearl-colored Maserati.

  * * *

  "So," Gibbs said to D when they were back by the pool, "have you learned anything new?"

  "I believe there was a relationship between R'Kaydia and my grandfather that she's been hiding from us."

  "You calling R'Kaydia a murderer?"

  "People have been kille
d for much less than thirty million bucks."

  "But what could your grandfather have done that would get his cap pulled?"

  "I have no idea," D admitted.

  Like a lonely puppy, Walli had now rejoined them since Felicia was sitting in the lap of a hairy, middle-aged Persian man who was pouring her champagne. Night had also joined them, along with Sy Sarraf, the herbalist.

  D glanced at his downhearted cousin and said, "You look ready to go."

  "Yeah."

  "You got a good lesson today, Walli." It was Gibbs. "Girls you meet at pool parties tend to float around."

  The party had already hit one peak but the sun was still shining and the pool area was being refreshed with another wave of party people. Jake G., R'Kaydia's lover, was chatting up a pale, slender, surgically enhanced brunette over by the DJ booth. D pulled out his phone and Googled him. Turned out the man's real name was actually Jake Gee and, yes, he did some personal training along with his stunt work. D scanned his credits for something he recognized, and it turned out Jake had been a heavy on Banshee, a Cinemax action joint in which he'd played an ethnically ambiguous terrorist.

  "I'll be right back," D said, then strolled over to where Jake and his companion were sitting. On closer inspection he recognized the brunette as Ashley Mae, a contestant on The Bachelorette (D always checked the lineup of women at the start of each season).

  "Excuse me," D said, "Are you Jake Gee, the stuntman?"

  "Yeah."

  "Well, my name is D Hunter. I'm a manager for Night, the R&B singer who performed a bit earlier."

  "Loved him," Ashley Mae said. "What a sexy voice."

  "Well, we're starting to develop ideas for his next video. Thinking of doing something involving action. I saw you kick ass in Banshee. I know your rep. Thought maybe we could toss ideas at you and you might help choreograph them."

  "Oh, Jake is so good at stuff like that," Ashley Mae said. "He's even helped us with stuff on The Bachelorette. He's so gifted." She gently rubbed his arm like a proud friend.

  Jake blushed and D half expected him to say, Aw shucks. He seemed bashful. Very different vibe from what he'd seen in the hotel staircase.

  "Thanks for the compliment, Ashley," Jake said. "Sure, my man, I'm definitely interested. Hit me up on Facebook and we'll meet up."

  "Thanks, Jake. Talk to you soon."

  Before heading out, D stopped by where Night was cavorting with Gibbs and Sarraf. "You cutting tonight?"

  "Most def. I should be over there by nine or so. Think I've finally figured out the sound. Watching people react to the Dr. Funk song today was cool. Thanks for suggesting it."

  D surveyed Night's companions. "You sure you don't want a ride home now?"

  Night smiled. "I'm a big boy, D. I know what not to do. I'm not getting in the way of my money."

  "Okay, no problem. See you tonight."

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  AFTER HOURS AT HEAVEN'S GATE

  On the freeway riding out toward Lancaster, D turned on the radio and found some jazz, happy to be listening to Charles Mingus's "Goodbye Pork Pie Hat" after an afternoon of trap music and electrobeats. Walli was quiet as the film noir sound of Mingus's arrangements filled the car. D figured he was still thinking about the women at the pool, but his young cousin had weightier things on his mind.

  "Hey, D," he said more to the window than the driver, "I'm really glad you took me with you today."

  "Glad you enjoyed it, Walli. I think it's an LA rite of passage to be at a pool party filled with beautiful women. First of many parties like it for you, my man."

  Walli now gave D his full attention, turning toward him with sad eyes. "You know, you are not what I expected."

  "What did you expect?" D asked. "You've known me your whole life."

  "But, you know, you always came in and out. When you were here you were busy and mostly you hung with Grandpop. So I didn't really know you."

  "I'm sorry if you feel I neglected you, Walli. But that will never happen again. We're family, and we need each other more than ever."

  "Yeah, I see that . . . And I need to tell you some things."

  "Yeah?" D smiled, thinking they were going to have a man-to-man about women.

  "Red Dawg told me not to. He told me you weren't really interested in Grandpop or Ma or me. That you were just hanging around to get paid off Grandpop's will."

  "Fuck that fool," D said. "What is it that you want to say?"

  "When Grandma died, Red Dawg tried to get Grandpop to retire and let him run the grocery store and all that loaning business."

  "It's called loan-sharking."

  "Yeah," Walli said, "so Grandpop got angry. He was real stubborn and they had an argument. Before Grandpop got shot, Red Dawg and him hadn't really been speaking."

  D quickly cut through traffic and pulled over to the side of the road, causing much honking and some cursing, but this was a conversation he needed to have stationary. "You understand your grandfather's code?"

  "A little bit."

  "But you didn't tell me that because Red Dawg warned you not to? Is that right?"

  "I'm sorry. I know I should have let you know that. But, you know, Red Dawg has been like a brother to me, so—"

  "Okay, I got it. Anything else I should know, Walli?"

  "Well, this isn't about Michelle. This is about another woman."

  "Just tell me."

  "This woman came to the grocery store about a three months ago asking about Dr. Funk. She got real nasty with Grandpop, accusing him of being immoral or something crazy like that. She was yelling so loud that Red Dawg came over from the sneaker store and stepped to her, but she punched him in the face! Almost broke his jaw."

  No doubt that was Serene Powers.

  "Did she touch Granddad?"

  "No," Walli said, "but he was definitely shook."

  "Did he file a police report?"

  "I don't know."

  "That detective would have mentioned it. I assume neither Red Dawg or your mother told the police."

  "I'm not sure if she even knew about it."

  "What about the K-Pak connection? You tell the detective about that?"

  "No. Red Dawg said he'd handle everything."

  "And not one of you thought I should know about that woman who threatened Granddad, or this shit about the grocery store?"

  "Sorry, D."

  "Y'all are sorry all right," D said. "I can't wait to talk to your mother."

  * * *

  Forty minutes later D was sitting in a chair in his Aunt Sheryl's new living room as she stood over him, holding a TV remote in her hand, her voice raised. "I'm your elder. Don't be questioning me, D. You have a lot of nerve. You may scare them fools out on the street but I will slap the black off you!"

  Asking his aunt pointed questions hadn't gone well. First she became angry with Walli for spilling the beans to D. Then she got defensive with D and subsequently downright irritated. D lowered his voice, hoping his aunt would take the hint.

  "I'm just trying to find out what truly happened to Granddad—that's all. But the truth is that you all decided I wasn't trustworthy or not even a real part of this family. You treat Red Dawg like he's your blood. What about me?" The calming-tone thing wasn't working either, cause D was really hurt and couldn't hide it. "I'm the last one of your brother's sons. You should be embracing me."

  This hit Aunt Sheryl. She took a step back, eyes downcast like she was finally going to be honest and it hurt a bit inside. "Look, D, to tell you the truth—"

  "Please do."

  "You're like a ghost to me. Yeah, all your brothers are dead. Your mother's sick. My brother done flipped out and left the damn country. Mommy's dead. Daddy's dead. Then you come to town like a fucking undertaker. I'm trying to get away from death, and you all wrapped up in it. You could at least wear a white shirt or white sneakers."

  This made D laugh. A sad laugh, but a bit of mirth nonetheless. Walli, who'd been feeling as tight as a well-tuned snare drum
, smiled. Even Aunt Sheryl loosened up a bit. The disagreement wasn't gone but at least the arguing was.

  Over leftover roast beef, steamed veggies, and home fries, Sheryl finally filled in some of the gaps in the Big Danny/Dr. Funk relationship.

  At Heaven's Gate, Big Danny hosted late-night jam sessions that transitioned into early-morning coke snorting and freebasing. Wisely, Big Danny didn't indulge past the sniffing stage, but he didn't judge when people started to smoke rocks. These coke-fueled sessions had the unintended consequence of getting him deeper into loan-sharking, since he'd often end up lending musicians money for blow. His pitch: Owe me, or owe the Bloods or Crips. He'd often take his cut out of musicians' salaries when they played Heaven's Gate or get them to gig just to be able to pay him back, arrangements that kept the club solvent for years.

  One night Dr. Funk had a young woman with him who, excited by the scene and the coke, got out of pocket and started flirting with Rick James, who was hanging out. Earlier in his career, when Dr. Funk was rolling, he might have laughed it off. But at this particular moment Rick's brand of punk-funk was ruling LA radio and the good doctor was feeling a touch insecure.

  So Dr. Funk and Rick James got into a shouting match because the girl was standing too close to Rick. Whether Dr. Funk meant to hit her or not, no one knows, but when he swung at Rick he ended up connecting with the young woman—and if that wasn't bad enough, her head then hit the edge of a table. She was down and she was out.

  Aunt Sheryl said she was murky on what happened next (D wasn't sure if that was true but kept quiet about it). All she knew for sure was that Rick James, Dr. Funk, and everyone else cleared out, and that the girl, whose name his aunt did not know, was taken to the hospital by Big Danny. Dr. Funk's name never ended up in a police report. After that, Big Danny and Dr. Funk stayed close, even as the musician's career began to ebb downward and his sanity seemed to fade.

  Did his grandfather, covering for Dr. Funk back then, instigate a murder now? Could it even be, to some degree, justified? For the first time since R'Kaydia and Night and Serene Powers and half of LA had asked him to find Dr. Funk, D felt some hostility toward this woman-abusing funk-and-roll legend.