Hollywood Tough

Chapter 25

They left a new note for Chooch taped to the refrigerator, then got in the car and drove to the Valley.

Chief Filosiani's house in Studio City was a modest duplex on La Maida. Shane and Alexa pulled her Crown Vic into the driveway, exited, and found Filosiani waiting for them in the living room. He wore a red bathrobe over pajamas, and had fleece-lined slippers on his feet. He whispered that his wife, Mary, was asleep in the bedroom as he led them into the den.

The chief's den was wall-to-ceiling clutter and way too small to accommodate his vast police reference library. The Day-Glo Dago had run out of space and overflow volumes were stacked everywhere. Big, blue LAPD binders, filled with procedural manuals from other departments, were piled on the floor waiting for his determination as to whether they contained anything worth implementing in L. A. He had one bookshelf packed with ten fat volumes of the Psychological Pathology of Homicide, another with volumes on ballistics and ESD. One entire wall was devoted to the emerging field of DNA and forensic investigations.

The chief cleared some space on the small four-foot-long sofa, and Shane and Alexa squeezed onto it together, as Filosiani lowered himself into a creaking Early American rocker. "You said on the phone it was important," he probed.

Shane and Alexa filled him in. When they got to the part about the foiled La Eme drive-by on Dennis Valentine, he furrowed his brow.

"I don't like," he said. "Means Valente's already got more traction here than we realized." He slowly leaned forward. "Do you realize how lucky we are you stumbled onto him when you did? You're on the inside now, with a real shot at busting his operation."

"That's why we came over," Alexa said. "This film scam of Shane's is good. Valentine told him tonight that he wants me to be his department mole. We've got to keep the sting operation going, but we're out of money."

"I just gave you a hundred thousand, then I get an e-mail from you this afternoon that said you put in another ten and needed forty more. I authorized it and had it transferred. What happened to all that?"

"Gone," Shane said.

"Gone?" He was furrowing his brow. "A hundred and fifty thousand in one day?"

"Well, actually, it's more like two days, but yeah. Beyond that, I've just made a verbal deal with Mike Fallon's agent. It ain't cheap, but the good news there is I don't have to pay him if the film doesn't go past the second week of preproduction. We went into preproduction today, so we've got thirteen days left. I also cut a deal with a director named Paul Lubick. Nicky and I did it over the phone with his agent this afternoon. Lubick's not cheap, either. The guy has more assistants than a NATO commander."

"Shane, need I remind you that we're not gonna ever make this movie?" Filosiani said.

"You can remind me all you want, Chief, but as long as these guys don't know it, they're gonna set up to do things the way they always do."

"How much?"

"Well, at least a hundred more to start with. I'll go back to Lubick's agent and try to cut a more front-end-friendly step-deal on a shorter clock with a trigger clause."

"What the fuck is that?" Filosiani growled, losing his impish smile.

"It's movie talk. Means we pay less now but he has a trigger date that obligates us to the whole amount in a few weeks. Normally he wouldn't get the full amount until completion of the principal photography. I'm planning to set up the meeting between Alexa and Valentine tomorrow. He's talking about giving her a hundred thousand in earnest money. We might as well let Valentine finance some of this sting himself; let it go toward our overhead and expenses. That gets us up to three hundred and fifty thousand. I'll try and move this along as fast as I can, get the RICO case made before this movie breaks us. But these guys and their agents are tough. The minute I stop paying, they stop playing, and once that happens, Dennis is gonna spot this for what it is. Then everything we've spent to date gets flushed with no case getting filed."

"Okay… okay, I gotcha. I'll keep the money coming. But Christ on crutches, Shane, wrap it up quick, will ya?" "I'll try."

They left Filosiani and drove back to North Chalon Road. When they arrived, it was after midnight. Chooch's Jeep was still not there. The note was still on the fridge. Shane called the boy's cell phone again, but got the same out-of-area recording.

"Maybe he left a message for us on the Venice machine," Alexa suggested.

Shane called the house and hit their retrieval code. There were two messages from Nora Bishop to Alexa, asking her to call about the bridal shower Alexa was throwing tomorrow. Alexa had changed the address to North Chalon Road, and Nora wanted her to fax a map to all the out-of-town friends. Then, they heard Chooch's voice…

"Hi, Mom and Dad. Look, I won't be coming home tonight… maybe not for a few more days. I know you're g onna be worried and upset with me, but I gotta take care of something. I promise you I'm safe. I'll check in and leave messages every day so you'll know I'm okay. This is very important to me. Talk to ya later. I love you guys… Bye."

After they hung up, Shane and Alexa stood in the kitchen by the phone, staring at the floor. Both of them were flooded with emotions.

"He'll be okay," Alexa finally said. But Shane was too upset to even answer.