Killer Ambition

45

We learn the maxim at an early age that we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover-and then we proceed to ignore it every single day. I took in Declan’s three-hundred-dollar haircut and his five-thousand-dollar suit and immediately sized him up as a rich, spoiled Hollywood brat who had only to point and his doting daddy would spare no expense or power play to get it. Unfair as hell, no question. But there it is. I’d decided that since he was brought on to be Vanderhorn’s spy/bun boy, I’d use it to my advantage and assign him the duty of making the daily reports. The knowledge that I’d already found a way to avoid the noxious chore brought a genuine smile to my face.

“Nice to meet you, Declan.” We shook hands, and I introduced him to Bailey, whose expression told me she’d had the same reaction to our new teammate that I had.

“It’s good you’re here. I do have something for you to do.” I explained that he’d be reporting to Vanderhorn for me and that he could start by telling the district attorney that I was filing two counts of murder.

“That’s it?”

“For now. Meet me back here in half an hour and I’ll give you the rundown on the case.” By that time, with charges filed, the story was going to start hitting the news anyway.

Declan flashed me another perfect smile with an “Okay, great!” and left to perform his first assignment.

“So who is that kid?” Bailey asked.

I gave her the scoop.

Bailey gave a short laugh. “Well, nice move making Vanderhorn’s spy do the duty.”

It was a minor victory, but I take them where I can get them.

Bailey and I went down to do the filing and get an arrest warrant, and when we got back, she put in the call to Ian’s lawyer, Don Wagmeister. She told him what I’d filed and offered to let him surrender Ian at the Men’s Central Jail, but only if he promised to produce his client within the hour. She ended the call saying, “At an hour and one minute, I’m going to assume you’ve declined this offer and I’ll arrest him wherever I find him.”

She gathered her papers into the file and stood up. “I’d better get over there.”

I was very glad to let her handle the booking herself. I hated the jail on Bauchet Street. Truthfully, I hate them all. But that one in particular is the very embodiment of institutionalized despair. “We should probably notify Antonovich and Raynie,” I said.

“You might want to wait for me and do it together. I think it’s gonna be a bitch.”

I figured Russell and Ian were buddies, but I didn’t know how tight. “You have some new info?”

“A little. I called that head of security guy, Ned, to find out if Averly ever worked at Warner’s. Just trying to see how far back Averly and Powers might go.”

“And this told you about Russell and Ian…how?”

“Ned said he’d have to check the records, but we got to talking about the fight between Tommy and Russell over the script again, and he said it was kind of unusual that Russell had even had a manager. He was just a co-producer at the time, and that’s too low on the totem pole to justify a manager as hot as Ian was-even back then.”

“So Ian was already on the rise as a manager?” I asked. “For some reason I’d thought Ian Powers was kind of a nobody back then. You know, ‘has-been’ child star struggling to make a comeback on the money side of things.”

“Apparently not-”

“Then Tommy’s screenplay was what got Russell through Ian’s door?”

“All Ned knew was that after the screenplay sold, Ian sprang for a group vacation with the wives in Tortola.”

I looked at her quizzically. How could Ned know that?

“Russell kept a photograph of the four of them all sunburned and drunk hanging in his office.”

“Classy,” I said. And after Russell’s screenplay made them both rich and huge, they had all the necessary ingredients for a long-lasting friendship.

Bailey nodded. “Russell’s likely to take this harder than you’d expect.”

“All the more reason why we’ve got to move. We can’t let him hear about it on the five o’clock news.”

Bailey tapped her file folder against her thigh. “If you decide you want me to come, just call me, okay?”

After Bailey’d left, I looked at the clock on the Times Building. Declan had been gone for over an hour. An inauspicious beginning, I thought. Just because daddy got you into the office doesn’t mean you can fiddly-fart around. I started working on my “to do” list, while I mulled over the problem of whether to wait for Bailey or not. I heard fast, light steps coming down the hallway toward my office and looked up just as Declan arrived at my door.

“I’m sorry, Rachel. He made me wait, and then he wanted to talk.”

“About the case?”

“A little. But more about how he wanted everyone to know that we’d be taking it one step at a time and that if it was starting to look like we had the wrong guy, we’d dismiss on Ian immediately.”

Who did the idiot think he was going to appease by that? If it were me, I’d just be wondering why he let a case he was so ready to dismiss get filed to begin with. I’d have to find a way to let Vanderhorn know this kind of talk wouldn’t save his reputation in Hollywood; it would only undermine the prosecution. Perfect: I was up against a superstar manager and the DA.

“And who is this ‘everyone’ he wants you to notify?”

Declan’s face flushed and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “My dad.”

Surprised to see that, far from smug, he seemed to be embarrassed, I felt a flash of sympathy. And then the flash was gone. Screw this kid. How many other aspiring prosecutors, struggling to pay off their student loans, had gotten stuck on a waiting list because Declan had a daddy who could push him to the head of the line? But that thought gave me an idea.

“I’ve got to notify Russell and his wife that we’ve filed on Ian.” Plus, I needed to ask Russell about the phone call he made to Ian after he got the first kidnapping message. Make sure he did in fact tell Ian about the kidnapping. “Why don’t you come with me?” I’d see if having a showbiz kid around did me any good.

Declan looked at me with serious eyes. “Do you know how close Russell and Ian are?”

“Tell me while we walk.”

But when we got down to the street and I started to head for the Biltmore, Declan stopped me. “Wait, where are we going?”

“To my car.”

“And that’s parked…?”

“Where I live. At the Biltmore.”

Declan tilted his head, his expression puzzled, but didn’t ask me the usual questions about how or why I lived in a hotel. “Why don’t you let me drive? My car’s closer.” He pointed to the parking lot across Temple Street.

It was indeed closer, and it cost a fortune. “Okay, thanks.”

He drove a fairly new-looking silver BMW, of course. And though it wasn’t custom and it wasn’t a luxury model, I’d venture to say no other Grade Two deputy could afford the payments on this puppy. Declan backed out very slowly and carefully maneuvered around the island leading up to the pay window.

“This a new acquisition?” I asked.

“Yeah. I got a great deal on it because it was what they call ‘slightly used.’ But I’ll be paying it off for the next four years, and if I don’t get my Grade Three promotion, I’ll need to unload it. So I’ve got to keep it sharp for the resale. Make sure I can get what I paid for it.”

The kid wearing the five-thousand-dollar suit worried about this? I couldn’t help myself, I had to ask. “Wouldn’t your dad help you out if you got behind?”

Declan’s expression hardened. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t ask.”

Interesting. A rift? Or just an admirable assertion of independence? Maybe time would tell. Right now, I needed to get ready for what was coming, and it seemed Declan was the man who could help me do it. “Russell lives in Bel Air, but his wife told Melia that he’d be at the studio. It’s on-”

“I know where the studio is.” Declan turned right and headed for the on-ramp to the 101 freeway. “I was going to tell you about Russell and Ian. They’ve been super-tight for a lot of years.”

“How close?”

“Close enough to travel together, party together. They always do the awards scene together.”

Awards, as in Oscars, Directors Guild, and Golden Globes.

“Were the families close too?”

“Well, the wives have changed. Ian’s been through two divorces-”

“And the current girlfriend, how long’s she been around?”

“A year? Maybe two. Ian’s girlfriend, Sacha…she’s your typical Hollywood trophy, actress-wannabe material. You know the type.”

“Not personally, but I get the drift.” I smiled inwardly, finding Declan much more fun and interesting than I’d expected. “What about the early days, before their divorces? Did Ian and either of his wives socialize with Russell and Raynie?”

“Yeah. Definitely. And when Russell was shooting on location, Ian would always take Raynie and Hayley out to dinner, do stuff with them to keep them company. I’d see them at my dad’s house sometimes when he threw parties.”

“Is it possible that Ian and Raynie…?”

Declan shook his head firmly. “Uh-uh. Raynie was true blue. And she was never out alone with Ian. It was always Ian and his wife number one…I forget her name at the moment, and Raynie and Hayley. No, it was all on the up-and-up.”

Not so much anymore. But who’d want to believe that Ian, the substitute daddy, would kill little Hayley? Yet another obstacle in a case that already had more than its fair share. I braced myself as Declan pulled up to the studio guardhouse.