Dream Town

Chapter 61

Bart Green sat at his large desk with a fat cigar crammed into his small mouth and a glass of what might be water next to him, but it also might be something stronger, too. He was dressed in a white shirt and a pinstripe vest with a red tie and gold collar bar. In the background Archer could hear the soft purring of phones, and the harsher clacks of typewriters spinning tales to make money for Tinseltown and this man right here.

“You look a lot spiffier than in Vegas,” said Archer as he sat down across from the man.

“I like to dress up for the office. Vegas is to play.”

“Speaking of Vegas, I had a nice chat with Darren Paley.”

“I don’t believe he’s capable of nice chats,” replied Green snidely.

“So you’ve had those chats with him?”

“I go to Vegas a lot, and he’s there sometimes.”

“Did you ever talk to him about your gambling debts?” asked Archer.

“Why would I?”

“Before he moved here to run the Jade Lion in Chinatown, Paley ran the enforcement squad for the mob in Vegas. It’s what your Little Tony used to do, and maybe still does.”

“So?”

“So Tony isn’t your guardian. He’s your executioner if your debts pile up again.”

Green drank from his glass and patted his mouth dry with the back of his hand. “Let’s get something straight right now. You know nothing about nothing.”

“On the contrary, I can count to two million.”

Green gave a little belch and Archer thought he could smell vermouth across the span of the desk. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“It’s what you’ve lost in the casinos.”

“I pay what I owe. End of story. And I don’t always lose.”

“Yes, you do. And I know you pay your debts because you’re still living. I almost wasn’t. It nearly ended for me in the desert right after I left you at the Copa Room.”

“Then let that be a warning to you to keep your nose out of places it doesn’t belong.”

“I’d have to change professions.”

“Then do.”

“Is that a threat?”

Green leaned forward and started speaking in a low voice. “Look, Archer, as hard as it may be for you to believe, I actually like you. I don’t know why, but I do. No, I do know why — you’re brash and willing to take risks and you don’t take no for an answer. In other words, you remind me of me when I was your age.” He paused and drained his glass. “Darren Paley and his kind are not to be messed with. I know you’re looking for Ellie Lamb and all, and trying to find who killed that other PI. But is it worth your life?”

“Again, sort of goes with the territory. Speaking of Cedric Bender, you sure you never heard of him before?”

“No. Why would I have?”

Archer thought the man was actually speaking the truth, and that was troubling. “You said you know the Bonhams?”

“I know them like I know most people. I’ve been to a party at their house. They’re acquaintances. I don’t really know them.”

“So you’ve never done business with him?”

“Archer, I don’t even know what business the man is in. But I’d like to.”

“Why’s that?”

“No one I’ve ever talked to seems to know where all his dough comes from.”

“Lamb moved out to Malibu because she and Bernadette Bonham went to school together back in Washington, D.C.”

“I recall Ellie mentioning that her father worked in the government back east.”

“She paid over seventy-two thousand dollars in cash for her home and renovations.”

“Bullshit. Where would she have gotten that kind of money?”

“Not from you?”

“Hell, I could hire a half dozen writers for that.”

Archer rubbed his jaw while Green said, “Look, maybe her family had money. Why don’t you check with them?”

“You know, that’s a great idea.”

“Now, are we done here?”

“Sure. Is your wife out of town?”

“Yes. She’s at our place in Lake Tahoe.”

“I hear it’s fabulous.”

“It should be, for what she spends on the place,” he groused.

“You never go there?”

“What is there to do at Lake Tahoe except stare at the water, or the snow in winter? And most of the lake is in California. But could she pick a spot closer on it to LA? No, she has to go way up on the Nevada side. Bitch to get to in the winter. It gets snowy up there this time of year. Whole place can shut down.”

“Would you have a number for Lamb’s parents?”

“Audrey, the receptionist, has information like that for the people who work here, next of kin in case of emergencies, that sort of thing. And I suppose someone should tell Lamb’s family that she’s missing.”

“Thanks. And Audrey and I have met.”

Archer stopped at Audrey’s desk and asked for that information. As the woman searched her files, Archer leaned over the counter and glanced at the switchboard located there. Above each number and switching port were initials. He saw CRR over one of them.

“Is that for Cecily Ransome?” he asked.

Audrey glanced where he was pointing. “Yes. Her middle name is Rachel. We have enough people working here with similar initials that we had to start using their middle initials to distinguish them so I don’t make an error transferring calls.”

Archer looked at another number. “And EDL?”

Audrey smiled. “Eleanor Dorothy Lamb. I know them by heart now, you see.”

“I do see.” Archer glanced at another set of initials — BMG — that he recognized from the aviation fuel invoice for the Beechcraft. He had thought BMG, Inc., the company that owned the plane, originated from a combination of Bart and Mallory Green’s initials. But this phone line label threw a wrench in that theory.

“And BMG is Bart Green. Right? What’s his middle name then, Michael or something?”

“No, that’s Mrs. Green’s private line, not her husband’s.”

This took Archer by surprise. “But those aren’t her initials. She’s Mallory Green. Why is there a B then?”

“Because her full name is Belinda Mallory Green. She goes by Mallory because she prefers that to Belinda.” She pulled a piece of paper from the file, wrote something down on a blank sheet, and handed it to Archer. “This is the name and number that Ellie left us.”

Archer glanced down at the information. Margaret Lamb. There was a D.C. area code and phone number.

But Archer was still reeling from the initials. “Does Mrs. Green own the Beechcraft?”

“I don’t know anything about that. I’ve never even seen it. Why, does it matter if she does?”

It sure as hell might, thought Archer.