Desperate Measures

8

Stone looked out across the Mississippi River, toward downtown Los Angeles, and listened to a Dixieland band while saloon girls served the board and stockholders drinks and lunch, and a riverboat gambler and a man in a black suit fought a gunfight on the stern of the riverboat.

When everyone was suitably oiled, and the agenda had been ticked off, Ben Bacchetti rose. “What do you think of Old Man River?” he asked, getting a rousing round of applause. He had some sheets of paper passed out to those present and took them through the income and the production savings made from the rental and use of the back lot, and while the iron was hot, he got a vote that saved the property.

As the sun began to wane, the riverboat docked at Natchez and dumped the happy group onto the dock and into horse-drawn carriages that took them back to the parking lot. Stone took his party — which included Ed Eagle and Dino, as well as Viv and Faith, who were there as guests — up to the top deck, where they had a bottle of champagne and watched the sun go down on a fairly smog-free city.

“A good day’s work,” Stone said to Ben.

“I’m proud of you,” Dino said to his son.

“We’ll have to fight them again next year, but I have plans to make it harder for them. It always amazes me that a group of stockholders would want to fuck up a well-oiled company so they can make a few extra bucks. It’s not as though they need the money: the studio police counted a dozen Bentleys, two dozen Mercedes, and a large assortment of Ferraris, Aston Martins, and Lamborghinis in the guest parking lot. Oh, there was one Prius, for the green-minded, I guess.”

They were quiet for a moment, then Viv shaded her eyes from the setting sun and pointed aft, where a pink blob floated in the river. “What’s that?” she asked.

Everybody gazed lazily aft, then Dino got to his feet and shaded his eyes. “Get me some binoculars,” he said to a crewman. The man vanished and came back with the instrument. Dino focused. “It’s one of two things,” he said. “It’s either a life-size doll or a dead body. I think we should find out which.”

Two crew members ran down to the dock, got an outboard motor started, and puttered out to where the pink lump floated. The commander of the studio police came out onto the deck and joined them, radio in hand. The instrument squawked, and there was an exchange of information. “It’s the body of a woman,” he said.

Dino spoke up. “Then you’d better call somebody you know on the LAPD and ask for homicide detectives, the ME, a crime scene team, and an ambulance.”

The man made the call, and the two crewmen began ferrying the body back to the dock.

“I think we’d better have a look at this,” Dino said.

Stone followed him ashore and down to the dock. “Leave her in the boat,” Dino said to them. He and Stone got in and had a close look at the body.

“Was she serving drinks?” Dino asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” Stone said. He turned to the captain, who had followed them down. “Do you know her?”

“No,” the man said.

“I think you’d better conduct a roll call and see who’s missing,” Stone said. “That’ll give the police a head start when they get here.”

The captain left and returned with a clipboard. “I’ve checked the whole list,” he said, “and nobody’s missing.”

Ben stepped up. “I’ve given instructions for every department to count heads and report anyone who’s missing from their offices.”

The LAPD arrived and were greeted by the commander of the studio police, who brought them to the dock.

An older detective said, “My God, is that Dino Bacchetti?”

The two pumped hands and Dino introduced everybody. “This is Lieutenant Molder Carson, known to one and all as ‘Moldy.’”

“What’ve we got here?” Carson asked, walking over to the boat.

“What you specialize in?” Dino said.

“Has anybody fucked with the body?”

“Only to get her out of the water and into the boat,” Dino said. “I watched them, and they did it well.”

The medical examiner arrived with the ambulance and made a quick examination of the body. “She’s badly bruised pretty much all over, but I can’t find a fatal wound. I need to get her back to the morgue, and on a table, before I can tell you more.”

The corpse was placed in a body bag and driven away.

Stone and Dino walked slowly to their waiting carriage, followed by the others.

“Notice anything familiar about her?” Dino asked.

“No, I don’t know her.”

“Well, she’s not much more than five feet tall, a hundred pounds, and blond.”

Faith, who was walking beside Stone, stopped, then turned aside and vomited.